Su Muyu swung her long sword but was forced back by a medicine man’s palm strike. The impact sent shockwaves through her hand, nearly causing the sword to slip from her grip.
Great Strength Vajra Palm! Su Muyu’s heart skipped a beat as she focused her gaze, only to discover that all four gray-robed men were identically bald with nine ordination scars on their heads—they were Buddhist monks. As she processed this, the other three medicine men attacked, using Dragon Claw Hand [Long Zhao Shou], Buddha’s Finger [Nian Hua Zhi], and Thousand-Hand Buddha Palm [Qian Shou Ru Lai Zhang]. Their internal energy was profound, and their techniques refined—orthodox Buddhist martial arts. Su Muyu fought while retreating, shouting, “Venerable masters are Buddhist practitioners—why do you aid tyranny?”
The four remained eerily unresponsive, their attacks growing increasingly fierce.
Bai Hehuai shook his head with closed eyes. “It’s useless. Once turned into golden medicine men, they lose their consciousness and only obey Night Crow’s commands.”
“What if Night Crow dies?” Su Muyu asked.
“Then they would stop!” Bai Hehuai replied.
“Mm.” Su Muyu continued deflecting the four monks’ attacks with her sword while glancing toward Night Crow in the corner. But these monks’ assault was like a tempest, far superior to the previous medicine men. For the moment, she couldn’t break free while protecting Bai Hehuai.
Night Crow laughed coldly. “These four monks, now medicine men, know no fatigue. They could punch all night until their bones break and flesh splits without stopping. But young master, can you swing your sword all night?”
Su Muyu ignored him, speaking quietly to Bai Hehuai instead. “Buddhism has a technique that can clear the mind. Even if someone falls into hell, it can bring their consciousness back for a moment. I want to try it.”
“You know Buddhist techniques too?” Bai Hehuai asked, puzzled.
“This technique isn’t difficult, just demands more internal energy,” Su Muyu said gravely. “Cover your ears.”
“First closing eyes, now covering ears…” Bai Hehuai said with a wry smile but covered his ears anyway.
Su Muyu held her breath, channeling all her internal energy to her chest. Then she opened her mouth and roared: “HAA!” This pure Buddhist Lion’s Roar [Shi Zi Hong] shattered the already broken water urns on the ground into even smaller pieces, creating a gust of wind that forced Night Crow to stumble backward. The four monk medicine men suddenly halted their attacks, clarity briefly appearing in their eyes.
“Buddhist Lion’s Roar!” Night Crow exclaimed in shock.
Su Muyu, seeing the monks pause, felt a surge of joy—the technique had worked! She hurriedly began, “Venerable masters…”
Ding-ling-ling…
A bell’s chime rang out. Su Muyu looked up to see Night Crow had retreated to the corner, gently waving a bronze bell.
As the bell rang, two of the medicine men’s eyes clouded over again, while the remaining two exchanged a glance before crying out and striking each other with devastating punches that shattered each other’s chests. Even Su Muyu felt her heart clench at such a brutal sight, but there was no time to dwell on it as the other two attacked again. Su Muyu steeled herself, planning to end this by severing their limbs. But before they could close the distance, both medicine men exploded, spraying blood and flesh everywhere. Without her oil-paper umbrella, Su Muyu could only use her sword wind as a shield while retreating to the corner with Bai Hehuai, leaving the ground stained with gore.
When Su Muyu looked up again, Night Crow had vanished.
In the night-shrouded Nan’an City, Night Crow rushed toward the city gates, muttering, “Even monks with Buddhist external techniques can hardly withstand the medicine man formula… Perhaps the text was right—only those born with martial veins can truly become golden medicine men.”
“Su Muyu.” Bai Hehuai suddenly called out weakly in the courtyard.
“Mm?” Su Muyu lowered her head, then suddenly noticed a drop of black blood on Bai Hehuai’s neck. “How is this possible!” she exclaimed.
Bai Hehuai collapsed powerlessly into Su Muyu’s arms. “There’s a jade bottle at my waist. Help me take out the medicine inside.”
Su Muyu quickly retrieved the medicine bottle and placed a white pill in Bai Hehuai’s mouth. After struggling to swallow it, Bai Hehuai said, “Take me back to the medicine manor. In the back courtyard, there’s a carrier pigeon I raised. Release it—it will send a message to Medicine Valley. Xin Baicao will come here. Let him come save me.”
“Alright!” Su Muyu carried Bai Hehuai toward Heyu Medicine Manor.
At the manor, Su Changhe and Su Zhe had just finished cleaning up the corpses when they saw Su Muyu rush in carrying Bai Hehuai. Su Zhe hurried forward. “What happened? What’s wrong with Hehuai?”
Su Muyu carried Bai Hehuai into a room and laid her on the bed. “The Divine Physician is poisoned. I failed to protect her.”
Su Zhe was stunned. “Poisoned? How is that possible? She’s the daughter of the Wen Family’s Poison Maiden and the senior to Medicine King Xin Baicao. She’s immune to all poisons—what poison could affect her?”
Su Muyu sighed softly, walking out of the room. “Medicine man’s poison.”
“What? Medicine man’s poison?” Su Zhe drew in a sharp breath. “What should we do?”
Su Muyu went to the back courtyard and found Bai Hehuai’s carrier pigeon with a message tube already attached to its leg—clearly, Bai Hehuai had prepared for this. After releasing the bird, she rushed to the front courtyard to retrieve her oil-paper umbrella from the corner.
Bai Hehuai, lying in bed in a daze, grabbed Su Zhe’s clothes. “Father, don’t let her go out. Just wait here for Xin Baicao.”
Su Zhe glanced at Su Muyu outside, and Su Muyu looked back.
“Alright,” Su Zhe sighed. Though he agreed, he said nothing to Su Muyu, knowing that despite her usually gentle and courteous demeanor, once she made a decision, no one could change her mind.
Su Changhe raised an eyebrow. “Want me to go with you? That Night Crow seems difficult to deal with. I’ll send him to his grave. Don’t worry, I’ll get the antidote before killing him.”
Su Muyu shook her head. “No need.” She glanced once more into the room before leaping away in pursuit.
Su Changhe recalled Su Muyu’s expression and stroked his mustache with a smile. “Haven’t seen that look on her face in a long time. When that expression appears, she’s going to kill someone. The Ghost with Umbrella of the Dark River is even more terrifying than me, a funeral director, when she truly wants to kill.”