Chapter Ninety-Six: It’s Not a Plague, It’s a Curse
Chapter Ninety-Six: It’s Not a Plague, It’s a Curse (Second Update)
Golden Wind Village
Above the broad wooden gate of the village hung a plaque bearing three bold, blood-red characters. The rugged, heroic brushstrokes seemed to proclaim the wild and fierce spirit of the people here.
This Golden Wind Village was nestled halfway up a mountain that was not too steep. Within a radius of several miles, more than a thousand households lived here.
Surrounded by towering peaks on all sides, with streams cascading nearby, the scenery was exquisite. The mountain paths in and out were arduous, making it difficult for outsiders to reach this place without significant detours. Of course, cultivators were an exception.
When Fang Junmei arrived here, it was already dusk, yet he could clearly see thin wisps of cooking smoke curling upward, painting a peaceful and serene picture. Yet, oddly, there was no sound of children laughing or playing, which gave an unsettling feeling.
After observing from a distance for a while, Fang Junmei did not enter the village immediately. Instead, he flew off to the distance to change his appearance before returning.
A young man, dressed neatly and cleanly, suddenly arriving at this mountain village would naturally arouse suspicion. Fang Junmei’s nature was upright and calm; he did not wish to cause panic among these villagers over his own affairs. Yet, he had no choice but to come here and see if he could uncover any unusual news.
…
After about half an hour, Fang Junmei slowly made his way along the mountain path toward Golden Wind Village.
His clothes were already tattered in places, as if scratched by thorny vines. On his back he carried a simple wooden basket woven from willow branches, filled with herbs, resembling a mountain herbalist.
“Stop! Who are you? Where are you from?”
At the entrance of Golden Wind Village, two mountain guards stood watch—one tall, one short, both with dark skin and relatively sturdy builds but somewhat lacking in vigor. From their tone, it was clear that even in this remote wilderness far from the Central Plains, it was not peaceful; there might be hostile villages nearby.
“I am Fang Junmei, from the north. I’ve come seeking some mountain herbs and passed through your treasured land. I hope to enter the village to rest for a few days. I ask you, brothers, to grant me this favor.”
Fang Junmei smiled and cupped his hands politely.
“…Are you a doctor?”
The two men scrutinized him carefully. The taller one asked, his eyes filled with concern.
Fang Junmei was certainly not a doctor, nor did he understand any profound medical arts. But in his past wanderings, he inevitably got injured and learned some basic medicine. After embarking on the path of cultivation, he understood the wonders of the spiritual energy of heaven and earth—his own internal power could cure many ailments.
He smiled and replied, “I know a little.”
“How do you treat dysentery?”
“How do you treat heatstroke?”
…
The two guards were not easily fooled; they questioned him one after another. Their questions, however, reflected the common illnesses of a hot and humid region, revealing their limited medical knowledge.
Fang Junmei answered each carefully, giving standard prescriptions with precision.
After hearing his responses, their expressions softened.
“You’re a guest from afar. We were rude just now. I’m Di Hu, and this is San Mu. Many people in Golden Wind Village have recently contracted a strange illness. Even our village doctor has fallen ill and cannot treat it. Could you please take a look?”
The tall youth bowed respectfully.
Fang Junmei nodded lightly.
“San Mu, stand guard here. I will lead this gentleman inside.”
The tall youth instructed the shorter man.
The shorter one nodded in compliance, and Fang Junmei followed them inside.
As the man moved, Fang Junmei noticed he walked weakly, as if he hadn’t eaten enough for days.
…
The village scene soon came into view.
The houses in this southern jungle village were built mainly from bamboo and wood—simple yet elegant—some lined up side by side, others standing alone. Most villagers seemed to stay indoors; few walked outside, and those who did moved slowly, their faces worn with worry, as if resigned to death.
Upon seeing Di Hu leading Fang Junmei in, the villagers only glanced briefly and then returned to their silence.
Watching this scene from afar, Fang Junmei’s curiosity deepened. He couldn’t help but ask, “Di Hu, what exactly has happened in Golden Wind Village?”
Di Hu frowned, hesitation flashing in his eyes, but he did not explain. “Sir, just follow me. When you meet the village chief, he will explain everything.”
Fang Junmei nodded slightly.
Being a thoughtful man, he suspected some kind of plague had broken out. Di Hu both wanted him to come and treat the sickness and feared he might flee if told too much, hence the secrecy.
Now a cultivator, Fang Junmei had no fear of mortal plagues. Unconcerned, he followed silently, his divine perception subtly scanning the surroundings.
After some twists and turns, they finally arrived at the village chief’s house.
The chief’s residence stood on an elevated area deep within the village, its prominence underscored by its larger, more elaborate construction, though it was not ostentatious.
Inside, Fang Junmei saw a tall, lean, robust old man reclining in a bamboo chair, smoking water-dried tobacco, unattended.
This old man already looked frail and spiritless; the smoke only made him appear even older and weaker.
As the two entered, the chief’s eyes shifted but showed no surprise—he was a man who had weathered many storms.
“Chief, this gentleman is a doctor passing through our village. I invited him to look at our sickness.”
Di Hu stepped forward, bowing respectfully.
Fang Junmei cupped his hands politely toward the old man.
The chief’s eyes brightened at Di Hu’s words. After rolling his eyes twice, he suddenly grabbed the tobacco pipe in his hand and struck Di Hu’s head fiercely.
“You little brat! How many times have I told you? You knew there was a strange illness in the village and still invited this man in. Are you trying to get him killed?”
As he struck, he scolded harshly.
The old chief struck with great force, and Di Hu howled in pain but dared not dodge.
“Chief, this gentleman has traveled far and wide. His medical skills are excellent and can surely treat our illness… Ah… ah… don’t hit me anymore!”
Di Hu pleaded, then shifted tactics: “Besides, this gentleman looks kind-hearted. Even if we have a strange illness, he will surely stay and help us.”
“Whether he stays or not, you can’t be so reckless!”
The chief’s brows knotted fiercely, his goat beard trembling.
Fang Junmei smiled faintly as he watched.
Though the chief struck hard, Fang Junmei clearly saw the corner of his eye glance toward him, and he had subtly signaled Di Hu with a look.
It was obvious they were putting on a show for him—worried he might run away, they staged this self-inflicted punishment.
The mountain folk were clever.
Understanding this, Fang Junmei considered letting the chief hit Di Hu a few more times to “collect interest” for their deception, but seeing the weak, hopeless faces around the village, his pity grew strong. He dared not delay further and stepped forward.
Whoosh!
With lightning speed, he grabbed the old man’s tobacco pipe.
“Chief, please take me to see the patients first. Whether I can cure them is yet to be determined. But as a healer, a doctor’s heart is like a parent’s. Since I’m here, I won’t turn away without even looking at the sick.”
Fang Junmei smiled.
His swift and precise move startled the chief, but hearing his words, the old man remembered the matter at hand and nodded eagerly.
“No need to find others. The two of us are the patients!”
Di Hu, seeing Fang Junmei agree to examine them, grimaced as he spoke.
The chief nodded. “Indeed, the entire village has caught this strange illness. Please examine Di Hu first.”
“Of course, the chief should go first!”
Di Hu dared not claim precedence.
“Quiet! I decide.”
The chief barked fiercely, his expression stern as he granted the young man the first chance for treatment. This touched Fang Junmei somewhat, a stark contrast to his previous harshness.
Di Hu wanted to argue, but Fang Junmei had already grasped his wrist, taking his pulse.
Seeing this, the two fell silent, not daring to interrupt.
…
Though called “taking the pulse,” Fang Junmei actually used his divine perception to examine Di Hu’s internal condition. Though tall and strong, his vital energy was not as robust as it appeared.
“What did the village doctor say?”
As he probed deeper, Fang Junmei asked.
The chief frowned deeply but soon replied through clenched teeth, “Old Si says it’s a plague—a plague never seen before. Otherwise, how would everyone in the village be infected?”
Fang Junmei inquired, “What symptoms appear after infection? Has anyone died? What do they look like at death?”
The chief said, “No one has died yet, but everyone’s strength fades day by day, and they all appear older. In fact, I wasn’t this frail before.”
Vital energy is draining?
Fang Junmei’s heart stirred.
After a moment, a sharp gleam lit his eyes. He clearly saw, near Di Hu’s heart and lungs, a blood-red thread-like entity, about an inch long, thin as a filament, wavering between substance and shadow. This thing definitely did not belong inside a human body. Without careful observation, it would be missed.
On the thread’s surface flickered tiny green lights, as if absorbing something.
Fang Junmei’s expression grew grave.
Swish!
He quickly grabbed the chief’s hand and saw the same sinister creature nestled in his heart and lungs.
…
The chief, skilled at reading expressions, sensed something from Fang Junmei’s face. He hurriedly asked, “Sir, have you discovered anything?”
Fang Junmei withdrew his gaze, glanced at him, released their hands, and cautiously said, “Bring a few more patients. I want to examine them as well.”
“All right, all right, you all come in here!”
No need to search—at the entrance, the chief’s earlier rough treatment of Di Hu had already drawn his family members.
A group of five or six entered.
Fang Junmei examined each carefully, confirming the presence of the strange creature in all their bodies.
“Sir, have you found out what this is? What’s happening?”
The chief, now anxious, asked eagerly after Fang Junmei finished his last examination.
“It’s not a plague. It’s a curse.”
Fang Junmei said calmly.
These words struck like thunderclaps.