I Can Devour Spirits

Duan Rong followed old man Qin into the cave.

The cave entrance was narrow, but upon entering, it opened up into a rather large stone chamber.

As soon as they stepped in, a strange mixture of various medicinal herbs filled Duan Rong’s nostrils.

In the large space before them, the stone walls at the far end were piled high with bulging sacks, while the rest of the area was filled with about ten old wooden shelves, each cluttered with countless bottles and jars...

On the eastern stone wall, between two shelves, there was a narrow Stone Gate, seemingly leading to another stone chamber.

Old man Qin intentionally coughed before passing through the shelves, heading toward the Stone Gate.

Duan Rong followed behind old man Qin, and the two of them entered another dim stone chamber.

The outer stone chamber was relatively bright due to the daylight streaming in through the cave entrance.

Suddenly transitioning from brightness to the dim chamber, Duan Rong felt engulfed by darkness, taking a moment to adjust.

The dim chamber was not entirely dark; there was a faint, yellowish candlelight.

The candlelight was quite weak, illuminating only a belly-sized patch of yellow light.

By the candlelight, there appeared to be a shadowy figure, their face obscured in darkness, with only a pair of hands illuminated by the glow.

Those were two wrinkled, aged hands!

In those hands was a Black Pottery Jar.

The lid of the Black Pottery Jar was open, and a triangular snake head, flicking its tongue, emerged.

As the snake’s head appeared, an aged hand swiftly grabbed it. The venomous snake writhed and twisted in the yellow glow, revealing its entirely crimson-scaled body.

The other aged hand reached into the darkness, seemingly fetching a toad with a back covered in pustules from another jar.

The aged hand grasped the toad’s hind legs, bringing it close to the twisting red snake.

The other hand loosened its grip slightly, and with a swift motion, the triangular snake head bit into the toad’s back.

The toad’s back quickly turned black at a visible speed, in a mere moment, the entire toad was as black as ink.

But at that moment, the red snake suddenly detached from the toad’s back and fell into the darkness.

The aged hand tossed the ink-black toad into a nearby stone pot, and with a soft splash, thick white mist began to rise from the pot.

Meanwhile, Duan Rong stood at the chamber door, catching a whiff of a foul and spicy stench.

Duan Rong immediately held his breath, fearing that just a bit more of the scent might make him vomit.

But the shadowy figure by the stone pot remained unfazed, seemingly turning to stone, despite the rising mist.

Old man Qin, unable to bear the stench, pinched his nose and pleaded, ”Pharmacist Shang, Pharmacist Shang...”

As old man Qin called out, the shadow trembled slightly, finally acknowledging their presence.

The shadow lifted the pot lid, covering the stone pot and suppressing the rising mist.

The shadow took a few steps back to the stone wall, pulling open a hide curtain with a swoosh.

Revealing a narrow stone window, beyond which lay a sheer cliff.

The daylight streaming through the window instantly brightened the dim chamber.

The chamber was small, about a third the size of the outer stone room.

Against one wall was a stone bed. The floor beside and atop it was cluttered with yellowing books and scattered bamboo scrolls.

On the other side, there was a crude desk made of bamboo, surrounded by bottles and jars on the ground.

On the desk sat a nearly extinguished candle lamp and a notably large stone pot, covered with a greasy, dusty wooden lid that did not fit.

Near one leg of the desk, the red venomous snake lay curled lifelessly, apparently dead...

Shang Xiangyu stood by the stone window, speaking in a hoarse voice. ”What’s this? Less than a month, and you’ve run out of the medicine I gave you last time?”

Shang Xiangyu’s voice was extremely unpleasant, sounding as if his throat was entirely ruined, more like a banshee’s wail from Hell than a human voice...

As the hide curtain was drawn, the damp air of the canyon swept in, dispersing most of the foul odor within the chamber.

Duan Rong adjusted his breathing, fixated on Shang Xiangyu by the stone window.

He wore a robe with broad sleeves and a high collar, his long hair a disheveled cascade down his back.

Strangely, the hands Duan Rong saw by the stone pot in the dim yellow light were gnarled and aged.

But Shang Xiangyu’s face was not old, with smooth, pale skin free of wrinkles, like that of a twenty-year-old youth.

If not for this jade-like face and the broad-sleeved, high-collar robe, one might mistakenly think a graceful young man stood before them. Yet, Shang Xiangyu’s hair, cascading freely, was as white as snow.

The combination of white hair, a youthful face, and that grating voice sent a chill down Duan Rong’s spine.

What kind of demon was this?! Could it be an old fox from the mountains turned spirit?

Old man Qin chuckled, ”There’s still some left, but since we’re here, I might as well take a bottle back. When that runs out, it’s also convenient to replenish.”