With virtue

"Why are there so many people?" Zhao Yunshu looked around, then turned to Monk Yuanmeng. "Even you're here, Master?"

Monk Yuanmeng clasped his hands together and bowed slightly: "Amitabha. I heard that you, Daoist, are going to use the method of exorcising resentment to cure Master Zhou's illness. I am both respectful and ashamed. You are so young yet you have such skills. I have treated Master Zhou several times before but failed to find the root of the resentment. I came here today not only to observe and learn, but also just in case. If anything goes wrong during your ritual, I will be here to lend a hand."

"I see, Master, you are very kind." Zhao Yunshu nodded, then turned to the crowd and raised his voice, saying, "Then please step back a little. The resentment is malevolent, and getting too close may harm you."

After he finished speaking, no one moved immediately.

The two burly men exchanged a glance, then looked at Sun Shouxin, their feet firmly planted, their brows clearly conveying their distrust.

Sun Shouxin coughed lightly and gave a wink, and the two reluctantly backed away.

The kiln workers watching also stepped back twenty paces, loosely forming a semicircle, craning their necks to look inside, their faces full of doubt—some frowned, some crossed their arms, and some whispered among themselves.

Only Zhao Yunshu and Zhou Chengan remained in the arena.

The surrounding pine forest was silent, and the occasional mountain breeze only added to the solemnity.

Zhao Yunshu helped Zhou Chengan sit down, picked up the medicine bowl and held it to his lips, saying in a low voice, "Master Zhou, drink it down, don't rush, take it one sip at a time."

Zhou Chengan nodded, took the bowl shakily, tilted his head back and gulped down two mouthfuls. He choked and coughed twice. Zhao Yunshu gently patted his back, her palm landing on the Feishu acupoint, which made him feel better.

Master Yuanmeng stood at the front of the crowd, his hands hidden in the sleeves of his robe. His gaze fell on Zhao Yunshu's hand, which was resting on Zhou Chengan's back, and his eyes darkened slightly.

But he quickly regained his detached and aloof demeanor, only occasionally fiddling with the prayer beads hidden in his sleeves while muttering incantations.

He suddenly turned his head and whispered something to Sun Shouxin beside him. Sun Shouxin nodded almost imperceptibly, but his gaze never left the two people in the room.

The medicine bowl was empty, and a thin layer of sweat appeared on Zhou Cheng'an's pale face.

Zhao Yunshu helped him lie down on the bamboo couch, but instead of moving, she took out a small coarse cloth bag from her sleeve, untied the rope, and found a pinch of grayish-black powder inside.

Someone in the crowd exclaimed in surprise; it was kiln ash that could be seen everywhere in the char-making area.

Zhao Yunshu poured out the kiln ash, dipped it in some water, mixed it into a thin, black paste, and applied it to several acupoints on Zhou Chengan's chest, lungs, cervical vertebra, and thoracic vertebra.

With each touch, Zhou Chengan trembled slightly.

"Kiln ash?" someone in the crowd muttered, their tone filled with doubt.

Sun Shouxin squinted for a moment, then sniffed and whispered to the monk Yuanmeng beside him, "It is indeed kiln ash."

Master Yuanmeng didn't speak, he just nodded.

Master Zhou's resentment is already very deep. If it is not extracted soon, it will turn into a viper in a few days, and then even a god cannot save him.

But removing resentment is not as simple as just drinking a bowl of herbal soup. This stuff is cold and piercing, and the pain of it traveling against the flow in the meridians is similar to having someone scrape your bones with a knife. The usual methods of exorcising evil spirits are either to forcefully expel it with righteous energy or to suppress it with talismans. But Master Zhou's body is already so weak that forcibly expelling it would only damage his vital energy.

So Zhao Yunshu came up with a plan.

The kiln has been burning for over a thousand years. Coal, firewood, and kiln ash—people only know that kiln ash is dirty, but they don't know that it contains an extremely strong yang energy. The reason he went to see Wang Haiting burn the ash this morning was actually for this.

Zhao Yunshu took the object and used his magic to force out the resentment within it.

This skill is called "gathering qi" by Taoists.

The so-called "qi gathering" refers to collecting the "qi" one needs from all things in the world. All things have qi; it's just a matter of how to gather it and how to utilize it.

Things like true qi and internal energy don't actually exist in this world with magic, so you can't turn yourself into a universal battery.

But there are other ways.

For example, Zhao Yun practiced courage training. After his gallbladder was strengthened, he could observe himself through internal landscape and begin to "gather qi," which means collecting things like yang thunder qi for his own use.

Demons absorb the moon's essence, and ghosts hide on the ground to absorb yin energy. Mortals obtain some energy from food and medicine, which can be considered as absorbing energy in a broad sense, but none of them are as profound as the refined 'energy absorption'.

What kind of energy to collect, when to collect it, and how to collect it—these are extremely important aspects of cultivation methods and are also part of the "true transmission." For example, methods like the Gallbladder Thunder Cultivation Method require collecting specific energy at specific times to be mastered. Without instruction, if you try to figure it out on your own, it would take an unknown amount of time.

Similar magical artifacts and talismans also need to be imbued with the corresponding energy of all things in order to be effective; otherwise, they are merely empty shells.

It's likely that the resentment in Master Zhou's body was captured and brought into his lungs by someone using the art of qi extraction.

Zhao Yunshu ignored the whispers behind her.

He closed his eyes and immersed himself in the inner vision once more. This time, he was not observing his own internal organs, but rather the long-standing resentment within Zhou Cheng'an's body.

The internal landscape reached deep into the lungs—the black aura was even denser than yesterday, churning and writhing, almost completely sealing off the lung meridians.

The acupoints he pressed were like wedges driven into water, firmly sealing the resentment within a small area.

Kiln ash is originally formed from coal and pine wood during the burning and charcoal making process. Over the years, it has absorbed the earth's fire and the blood and sweat of the kiln workers, and it contains extremely strong yang energy.

This thing is so common in the kiln that no one would give it a second glance.

However, this inconspicuous black ash, now sealed by his Qi-gathering technique, allowed Yang Qi to penetrate into the meridians through the acupoints, like a furnace being filled with wind, causing the cold, resentful Qi to surge violently, no longer able to remain peacefully deep within the lungs.

Zhou Cheng'an's breathing suddenly became rapid, his chest heaved violently, and a gurgling sound came from his throat, as if something was blocking his trachea and trying to rush out but could not.

His face first turned bright red, then turned pale, large beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, and his whole body began to tremble uncontrollably. His calloused hands gripped the edge of the bed tightly, his knuckles cracking.

He tried to cough but couldn't, and the wheezing sound coming from his throat was extremely unpleasant to listen to.

His appearance caused many of the onlookers, including masters and apprentices, to involuntarily take a half-step forward, filled with worry.

Master Zhou was well-liked at the kiln, and everyone had received some form of help from him. Seeing him like this, they all frowned.

But then, Sun Shouxin raised his hand and pushed them back, preventing them from getting too close.

Zhao Yunshu kept his eyes closed, focusing his attention on what was in front of him.

At this moment, his fingertips pressed steadily on Zhou Cheng'an's chest, pressing down while simultaneously guiding him.

He used the traditional Chinese medicine technique of "pushing the uterus and circulating blood" with his palms, combined with his own qi and blood, to force the churning resentment upwards inch by inch.

After this process, he noticed something moving upwards from his lungs, almost reaching his throat.

The thing moved forward from Zhou Cheng'an's lungs to his back, from his throat to his larynx. With each movement, Zhou Cheng'an felt as if an ice pop was stabbing him from his stomach into his chest, causing him extreme discomfort.

This made his eyes widen, veins bulging on his forehead, but his trachea was blocked. He wanted to shout but couldn't, only tears and sweat streaming down his face.

Zhao Yunshu himself felt the chilling energy seeping into his body through his fingers, like many ice needles piercing his fingertips at the same time, both cold and numb.