Chapter 8 – Li Qiuchen Escapes with His Life

Meanwhile, Li Qiuchen had also arrived at the altar outside the village.

A Sanskrit chant, as if descending from the heavens, echoed in his mind; the mournful, entreating hymn nearly warped his thoughts, twisting him into a devout Medicine Masters Believer.

“No matter what happens in a moment, just run with me—don’t look back!”

After warning Hong Yang, Li Qiuchen raised his hand toward Guan Damu, spread his fingers, then clenched them into a fist.

“Ten years.”

A simple, honest smile tugged at Boss Guan’s lips as he muttered to himself.

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“Back then I did come back begging for medicine, claiming it was to cure my kid—that part was fake. But you strung me along for ten whole years without giving me so much as a cent; that’s going too far.”

“A person should be a bit more generous—don’t be so selfish.”

He pulled out a fire starter, lit the fuse at his feet, then spun around and sprinted away.

A thunderous blast; a terrifying fireball erupted beneath the altar, swallowing the old peach tree in front of it whole.

The strange phenomena between heaven and earth froze in an instant.

Li Qiuchen pressed Hong Yang’s head down to dodge the shockwave; without waiting for the smoke to clear, he charged straight toward the center of the explosion.

Countless petals whirled through the rolling clouds of smoke; the old peach tree had been snapped in half, revealing snow-white heartwood.

Boss Guan, who’d been closest, somehow produced an axe and swung it into the heartwood, hacking off a tender, bamboo-shoot-like chunk in just a few blows.

A three-thousand-year-old tree that had never once borne fruit, storing every ounce of its essence in its core—its nutritional value speaks for itself.

The fresh, green fragrance alone felt intoxicating.

The Crayfish Spirit pounced eagerly, scooping up the broken core and devouring it ravenously. After guarding the spirit spring behind Songlin Village all these years, this was the moment it had waited for. The heartwood of a millennium peach tree was genuine Heaven And Earth Treasure.

Anywhere else, it wouldn’t even qualify to share such bounty; more likely it would end up served on the same plate.

“Move! Now! Quit while we’re ahead!”

Li Qiuchen snatched a chunk of heartwood, shoved it into his pocket, grabbed the Crayfish Spirit’s pincer, and yanked it backward. “Stop eating—if we don’t go now and it recovers, you’ll vomit up every bite!”

The core wasn’t real bamboo; the Crayfish Spirit’s eyes rolled from overstuffing. With one last reluctant glance, it kicked up a wave that swept Boss Guan and the two children away.

The gap in strength was real.

The Crayfish Spirit knew it had actually been the old peach tree’s prey.

Today’s stunning reversal was entirely thanks to Li Qiuchen’s scheme.

Even if Songlin Village was a pigpen, the farmer raising the pigs wasn’t human.

As the fattest pig in the pen, Great-Uncle had spent years snatching feed from the piglets, growing ever fatter. But no matter how much he ate, a pig remained a pig.

Though every pig is doomed for slaughter, before the final blade falls the owner must keep the pigs alive.

Through years of careful observation, Li Qiuchen had stumbled on a flaw in the pigpen’s operating rules.

Only one true Medicine Masters Believer existed in the village: the owner of the pen—the old peach tree.

A tree’s mind differs from a human’s; though conscious, it isn’t swayed by irrelevant emotions.

If villagers were injured, the old peach tree would, under the guise of a medicine master, prioritize healing them.

If many were hurt, it would allocate more power—just as when it had captured the Crayfish Spirit, diverting some of the strength used to monitor the village and control Puppets.

Great-Uncle had fallen into a slumber then; the tree could no longer spare attention for this Advanced Puppet and could only place it on standby.

In short, this was the Dao of a medicine master.

As the saying goes: be a monk for a day, ring the bell for a day; a Medicine Masters Believer must save lives.

Whom you save doesn’t matter—you can even save yourself—the point is to save.

The old peach tree’s cultivation meant standing rooted in the soil, quietly guarding its pigpen.

As a tree, it had no need to venture out for experience.

As long as the pen’s system ran smoothly and no alarms were triggered, it didn’t even need to manage actively; waiting at the village gate for Great-Uncle to deliver sacrifices straight to its mouth was enough.

All two thousand villagers of Songlin Village had lived here for centuries, never knowing the old peach tree at the gate was their true master.

But there were exceptions.

Guan Damu had left the village in his early years to seek his fortune, reportedly marrying and fathering children outside. But because his child was Innate weak and short-lived, he had to return to beg for medicine.

Yet Great-Uncle was a tight-fisted miser, and the old peach tree wouldn’t part with a single leaf, only mouthing platitudes about the peach fruiting once every thirty years and how he’d simply missed this cycle.

Guan Damu waited in the village a full ten years before realizing the old man had duped him.

Since they wouldn’t give, he resolved to take by force.

Also biding its time was the Crayfish Spirit in the spiritual spring behind the mountain. It had coveted the old peach tree’s essence for ages, but its strength was lacking and it dared not approach too closely, lest it become fertilizer. All it could do was stay in the spring and chew at the peach roots that crept its way.

Li Qiuchen linked these two together and produced his plan.

The plan, in a word, was simple: while the village held its Grand Sacrifice, bury gunpowder and blast the old peach tree sky-high, then run.

The hard part was how to slip it past the old peach tree’s eyes and ears.

And how to split its attention so it never noticed the gunpowder.

For instance, have the Crayfish Spirit wound as many villagers as possible, then fake defeat and be captured.

A catch this big would force the village to hold the Grand Sacrifice; while the old peach tree was distracted, Guan Damu could use the altar-building as cover to plant the explosives right under its nose.

There had been one accident or another, but overall the plan had so far succeeded.

Even too well.

Bai Yuheng’s arrival had drawn almost every scrap of the old peach tree’s attention.

Now only one step remained—how to escape?

The mountain path out of the village looked like the only option, yet it was a dead end.

The old peach tree was only stunned by the blast, not dead. For the Medicine Masters Believers, the very concept of “death” is almost meaningless.

Its roots beneath the soil not only threaded through the whole village but reached into both the front and back mountains, extending as far as twenty li away.

Once it woke, Li Qiuchen’s group would have no chance of outrunning it.

Yet inside this net of heaven and earth there was still one overlooked lifeline.

The spiritual spring behind the mountain.

No roots grew in the spring; the Crayfish Spirit had gnawed them clean.

Beneath the spring ran an underground river to the outside world; with the Crayfish Spirit’s water-escape art, they could flee alive.

But here lay another difficulty.

How to be sure the Crayfish Spirit, an honest monster, would keep its word?

Luckily it was only a crayfish; had it been a fox-spirit, Li Qiuchen would never have dared risk it.

He could only gamble.

Having schemed this far, the rest was up to fate.

“Aaaargh—!”

The Crayfish Spirit erupted with shocking power; all ten legs beneath it blurred.

Not because its character was sterling, but because the old peach tree had awakened.

A terrifying pressure shot skyward, scaring the Crayfish Spirit witless.

The old peach tree, moments ago blown in half, had already mended; a wizened human face appeared on the thick trunk, turning to watch the fleeing group.

A tree’s mind is slower than a man’s; for a long moment the old peach tree stood blank before grasping what had happened.

My precious core—!!

The earth began to shake.

Black roots ripped from the ground and whipped toward the Crayfish Spirit like thunder.

The Crayfish Spirit, mouth still full of wood, used every ounce of strength to drive the current forward.

As the roots were about to strike, Boss Guan pulled out palm-thunder crackers, lit them with a tinder cord, and hurled them one after another.

Flames burst, smoke billowed, and wrist-thick roots snapped on the spot.

As the saying goes, every strength has its weakness: the old peach tree’s defense was poor, or a few barrels of powder would never have left it dazed.

It was like a priest who could heal so fast he needed no plate armor—as long as the health bar refilled quickly, defense was pointless.

Though the palm-thunder could not truly wound the old peach tree, they stalled its pursuit.

Buying the Crayfish Spirit a few more breaths.

Hidden by the smoke, the Crayfish Spirit dived into the spring; on its home ground its water-escape speed multiplied tenfold.

“Aha-ha-ha, you hairy old peach—payback time!”

Back in the water, confidence returned; no longer the panic-stricken fugitive, it spat out the wood and jeered.

“Hoard and hoard—save for a coffin and end up living in it! You—”

Before it could finish, a thunderous roar shook overhead.

The mountain collapsed.

Few can imagine how the loss of savings wounds a stingy old miser.

The old peach tree went berserk.

Its roots stabbed through the rock above; countless stones rained down.

The Crayfish Spirit’s joy turned to sorrow as a boulder smashed its head, shattering its water-escape spell.

Icy river water poured in from every side; the violent current tore the three people behind it apart.

“Xiao Chen—!”

Hong Yang reached for Li Qiuchen, but in the sunless, silt-choked underground river they could not see each other.

Li Qiuchen held his breath, drifting with the subterranean flow until, exhausted, his vision blacked out and he sank into unconsciousness.