Chereads / High School of Demon Hunting / Chapter 6 - Chapter 6 Mr. Wu_1

Chapter 6 - Chapter 6 Mr. Wu_1

Professor Zheng jumped up in a hurry and called for the doctor at the health station next to the residential area.

When he returned with the doctor, he was surprised to find his grandson brightly awake, sitting obediently in front of Mr. Wu. Meanwhile, Mr. Wu was seriously kneading and tapping his head and body.

"Does Sir know what's wrong with my grandson?" Professor Zheng perceptively sensed something, looking anxious.

Mr. Wu fell into silence for a long time before he slowly explained.

According to him, Zheng Qing was born with deficient vital energy, but he had strong mental capacity. This led to an imbalance of Yin and Yang, with Yin energy upward rushing, causing headaches. The daily recitation and calligraphy practice drained Zheng Qing's spirit, but the reading and writing drained him even more. Hence, Zheng Qing's condition continually worsened.

"Is there a remedy?"

"The deficiency of vital energy cannot be supplemented by acquired medicine or stones."

"So there is another solution?"

Mr. Wu remained silent.

"Please, sir, help me," Professor Zheng stood up, knelt down with Zheng Qing, and deeply bowed.

Mr. Wu gave a long sigh: "The tree wishes to stand still, but the wind does not stop."

Helping Professor Zheng up, Mr. Wu made three stipulations.

The first one, no talking; the second, secrets must not be passed on; the third, for souls, not eyes.

The first rule prohibiting talking meant that Professor Zheng could not discuss his treatment. In all seriousness, Mr. Wu explained that some things, once spoken, lose their charm.

The second rule about secrets not being passed on referred to the fact that Zheng's family shouldn't dare to enquire into the confidential treatment methods. According to Mr. Wu's cryptic remark, his lineage was of the Taoist Gate. If Zheng Qing wanted to compensate for his innate insufficiency, he needed to join his lineage and follow certain commandments.

The third rule, for souls and not eyes, Mr. Wu expressed that he treated Zheng Qing simply because he encountered him, and he only wished for peace of mind, not to be disturbed by other patients. It was for the heart, not for fame. If the treatment has some effects and attracts other patients to bother him, he would have no choice but to leave early.

After stating the three requests, Mr. Wu fell silent.

While Professor Zheng was still pondering, Zheng Qing had already knocked his head on the ground seven or eight times, incessantly calling out "teacher."

Professor Zheng, bemused, pulled him up and asked, only to find out that Mr. Wu's massage earlier was very effective. It seemed to be the first time in a long time that Zheng Qing felt so refreshed. Hence, upon hearing that Mr. Wu had a way to treat his headache, he immediately knocked his head in respect.

Thus, the old man had no choice but to smile bitterly and nod in agreement.

That's how, during midsummer of his eighth year, Zheng Qing acknowledged Mr. Wu as his master.

Mr. Wu's knowledge was broad, covering astronomy, geography, and history. Whenever patrons of the bookstore started a topic, he could always follow along and talk endlessly. If the customer was a coy lady, Mr. Wu would even generously show a smiling face, flatter and tease those girls until they blushed.

Mr. Wu's hobbies were also wide-ranging. He enjoyed wind and string instruments, chess, calligraphy, painting, a variety of ball sports, and he even engaged in the tedious chores of the bookstore. It seemed like all aspects of people's life could stimulate his keen interest. So much so that Professor Zheng once sighed, claiming that Mr. Wu was a true connoisseur.

Most importantly, Mr. Wu's methods of treatment were indeed superb.

Since the time Zheng Qing acknowledged him as his master, his headaches had never recurred.

This left Professor Zheng and Zheng Qing's parents immensely grateful. But as Mr. Wu insisted on not getting involved, the Zheng family could only send some gifts during festivities to show their gratitude.

Mr. Wu's treatment method was peculiar. He didn't give Zheng Qing daily acupuncture or massage. He didn't prepare Gold-Stone Soup Medicine for Zheng Qing either. Instead, he continued with Professor Zheng's usual practice: calligraphy!

However, what Zheng Qing was practicing were not the common Han characters found in the textbooks. Instead, it was an old and worn-out talisman scroll.

The Talisman Scroll had a total of 324 pages, with four symbols on each page, totaling 1,296 Symbols. The structure of each Symbol was extremely complicated, and there were often minuscule changes between the strokes, which made Zheng Qing's practice even more challenging.

Mr. Wu still seemed unsatisfied. He specially found Zheng Qing a slender and soft brush and insisted that Zheng Qing learn a symbol every day. All calligraphers know that hard pen writing is easy, but brush writing is challenging. New soft brushes alleviated Zheng Qing's physical fatigue, but his mental drain was multiplied.

These symbols were not just for daily study. Under Mr. Wu's requirements, they had to be recited every day, tested every five days and every ten days. If you couldn't recite you would get a beating, if you failed the test, you would still get a beating.

Mr. Wu said, if you fail the big test every ten days, there's no need to come anymore.

Thinking back to the torment of his headaches, Zheng Qing felt terrified and naturally studied more seriously.

Time flew by, and over three years passed. At the age of twelve, Zheng Qing had already memorized the thousand odd symbols from the talisman scroll. And over the past three years, his headaches had not recurred.

During those three and more years, the longer Zheng Qing spent with Mr. Wu, the more abnormalities he noticed.

For example, Mr. Wu never seemed to eat.

Mr. Wu would cook delicious meals that were a feast for the senses, but most often he would leave it for Zheng Qing and the yellow flowered cat in the bookstore. Zheng Qing had never seen Mr. Wu eat.

Then, there was that strange yellow flowered cat in the store. This yellow flowered cat showed up when Zheng Qing was ten. It burrowed into the bookstore and refused to leave. Mr. Wu allowed it to stay, and over time, Zheng Qing came to suspect that it was some kind of spirit. More than once, he had seen the cat rummage a key from the drawer, stand straight up, and unlock the attic to get fish strips. The cat never seemed to mind, but often waved its paw at him in greeting.

Most importantly, once, Zheng Qing saw Mr. Wu gesturing towards his teapot, and the teapot, which was a good ten meters away from him, gracefully floated into his hand.

The more he found out, the more he revered, and so Zheng Qing's treatment of Mr. Wu became more and more respectful.

The mind of a young boy often has all sorts of wild fantasies. Over time, these peculiarities settled in his heart, becoming familiar to the point of being considered normal.

It was not until his twelfth birthday that Mr. Wu announced his intention to give Zheng Qing a gift.

It was a foggy morning. Mr. Wu held Zheng Qing's hand, reminding him to hold on tight. Zheng Qing held Mr. Wu's hand nervously. They left the bookstore, walked a few steps, and entered the garden in the residential area.

The sides of the garden path were flanked by holly trees over a meter high, neatly trimmed by the gardeners. They went left and right along the path, walked through a round archway, and the mist around them seemed to dissipate instantly.

He was still thinking that the archway had never appeared in the garden before. Unexpectedly, Mr. Wu let go of his hand, raised his fists in greeting to a gaunt old man coming towards them.

Zheng Qing looked around and found himself in a quiet, ancient small street.

At the entrance of the small street stood an archway held up by two bare stone pillars. Inscribed on it in powerful strokes were three large characters - "Hui Zi Ji".