Chapter Twenty-Two: The Path of Cultivation

The crowd was abuzz with gossip about Feng Fugui, but Feng Yuan showed little interest. He turned away from the throng, leading Hu Xiao deeper into the village, until they reached the area behind the village. Feng Yuan’s home lay back there, but he didn’t head for his own house—instead, he made his way to a place not far away: the home of Feng Ergou. There, two cattle were kept, and Feng Yuan needed a drop of cow’s tears; this was, without doubt, the most suitable place.

Feng Ergou, however, was a solitary soul, his mind somewhat troubled and difficult to communicate with. He had been normal as a child, even a playmate of Feng Yuan’s, until one rainy night, when he inexplicably wandered into the mountains. When he emerged, he was like a man possessed—he screamed about ghosts whenever he saw people, and if anyone dared approach within two meters, he would lunge and bite. Medicine and treatments proved futile. The village elders whispered that he must have offended the mountain spirit.

As he grew older, he gradually regained some semblance of normality, though he remained simple-minded and unwilling to converse. His family, resigned, left him in a cowshed near Feng Yuan’s home, where he kept company with the cattle. It seemed harmless, and he lived peacefully enough.

Standing at the doorway, Feng Yuan caught sight of Feng Ergou at a glance—his hair was wild, face smeared with filth, his body grimy, bare-chested, clad only in trousers, sprawled atop the belly of the old cow, fast asleep. Nearby, a young calf grazed quietly.

As Feng Yuan and Hu Xiao approached, both cattle turned to watch them. Feng Ergou woke, fixing his gaze upon them, staring unblinkingly without a word.

Feng Yuan smiled at him. “Ergou, I’d like to ask for a drop of your cow’s tears. Would that be alright?”

Feng Ergou stared at Feng Yuan, motionless as before, eyes locked onto them.

Observing his demeanor, Feng Yuan turned to Hu Xiao. “Bring over the sesame cakes we bought earlier.”

Hu Xiao nodded, untied her bundle, and produced two large sesame cakes. Feng Yuan took them and walked over to Feng Ergou, offering the cakes.

Feng Ergou’s gaze shifted to the fragrant cakes. He swallowed, then swiftly snatched them, rising to retreat to a corner of the cowshed, where he crouched and devoured them in great bites.

His acceptance of the cakes signaled his agreement. Feng Yuan then approached the old cow, standing before its head, pondering how to obtain the tears—after all, a cow wouldn’t shed tears without cause.

To beat it until it cried? That was out of the question; more likely, Feng Yuan would end up in tears himself if he tried. The situation was awkward—he had found the cow, but had no idea how to coax a tear from it, standing there, sighing helplessly.

“Master, what are you planning to do?” Hu Xiao came over, curiosity in her eyes.

“I need a drop of cow’s tears, but I don’t know how. Do you have any ideas?” Feng Yuan asked.

“Let me try!” Hu Xiao nodded. She leaned close to the cow’s ear, gently stroking its face as she spoke, “Dear old cow, please grant our master a drop of your tears. We would be ever so grateful.”

Feng Yuan muttered, “I doubt cows understand human speech. Let me try instead.” But as he spoke, he saw the old cow blink, and in the next instant, a single tear rolled down its cheek.

Feng Yuan’s eyes widened in disbelief. Was it truly so miraculous? Could it be that this was an amorous cow, eager to please at the request of a beautiful woman?

He hurriedly reached out, catching the teardrop on his fingertip, then swiftly dabbed it onto his own eyes.

As the instructions on the mysterious diagram had indicated, applying cow’s tears to the eyes would allow one to see golden lights—those radiant threads said to exist everywhere. Feng Yuan, impatient to test the result, blinked and looked around—the cow, the grass pile, the wooden beams—but saw no trace of the promised golden glow.

Feng Yuan frowned deeply. “Could the diagram be a fake?”

He pondered. The diagram's claims were indeed fantastical, but he refused to give up. According to its teachings, everything should possess some golden radiance, though the amount would vary, and perhaps some things had none. He decided to test further.

“Let’s go home,” he said to Hu Xiao.

With that, Feng Yuan led her out of the village, heading home to try again—because, as the diagram had stated, books contained the most abundant golden light, and there were no books here. Only in his home within the city could he find them.

“Feng Yuan… beware the ghost maiden… she’s following you… you must be careful…!”

The voice came from behind—Feng Ergou. Feng Yuan halted, turning to see Ergou sitting on the ground, grinning foolishly at him.

For the first time in nearly ten years, Feng Yuan heard his old childhood friend speak. Looking upon Ergou, Feng Yuan’s heart stirred with emotion.

“Do we have any more sesame cakes?”

“Yes, master!”

“Give them all to him,” Feng Yuan instructed, gesturing toward Feng Ergou.

Hu Xiao nodded, turning to hand all the cakes to Ergou.

The two of them then departed…

…

By the time they returned to the city, it was midday. The journey of several dozen kilometers had left them exhausted. Feng Yuan, drenched in sweat and worn out, stomach rumbling, sent Hu Xiao to prepare a meal while he changed into clean clothes and headed to the study to test his eyes with a book.

He had not expected that, upon entering the study, his eyes would be nearly blinded by the dazzling golden light radiating from the novel he had written—twenty thousand words, all ablaze with golden brilliance. Countless golden tadpoles swam across the pages.

“Am I seeing things?” Feng Yuan could hardly believe it. He rubbed his eyes, but the brilliance remained, unmistakably real.

Elated, he sat down on the floor, heedless of the dirt, and took out the diagram from his pocket, spreading it flat on the ground for careful examination.

Following its instructions, Feng Yuan sat cross-legged and performed the hand gestures as depicted. To his astonishment, the golden lights immediately flew toward him, streaming into his body.

He felt a cool sensation envelop him, soothing and relaxing, as if he were lounging on a sunlit beach, basking in the sea breeze.

Yet, as soon as he paused his movements, the golden lights ceased entering his body. Only by continuously following the diagram’s gestures could he absorb them.

Moreover, as he performed the gestures, Feng Yuan suddenly realized he could see inside his own body, just as the diagram illustrated—the golden lights flowed along his meridians and pressure points, finally gathering in his dantian, forming tiny golden spheres, each no larger than a grain of rice, but far brighter and more dazzling than the golden lights themselves.

“How truly wondrous,” Feng Yuan thought to himself.