Li Huowang raised the pestle in his hand, absentmindedly pounding it against the mortar, over and over, grinding the mud-streaked greenstone inside into fine powder.
The cave was cold and damp, and Huowang wore only a coarse linen garment, but his face remained indifferent, as though the discomfort didn't bother him at all.
He wasn't alone in the cave. Boys and girls of similar age worked alongside him, their hair tied back with coarse hemp ropes, all dressed in similar rough-spun clothes. However, unlike Huowang, they bore physical deformities—some had albinism, others showed signs of polio or other congenital or acquired abnormalities.
The small storeroom cave, filled with misshapen bodies and grotesque workstations, resembled a macabre museum of human suffering.
Like Huowang, their task was to grind materials, though what they worked on varied—some pounded minerals, others herbs. However, not everyone worked diligently.
A piercing scream cut through the air, breaking the monotony. Everyone turned toward the source of the sound.
In one corner of the cave, a cleft-lipped, overweight boy wore a lecherous grin as he tried to pull an albino girl into his arms.
"Just once! I swear, just once!" he said, laughing crudely.
Huowang ignored the commotion, keeping his eyes closed and continuing his mechanical task.
But as the girl's sobs grew louder and more desperate, frustration flared in him. Muttering a curse under his breath, he grabbed the stone mortar with one hand and stood up.
Thunk!
The heavy stone connected with the boy's head, producing a dull thud.
Blood oozed from the cleft-lipped boy's forehead as he sat stunned on the ground. After a brief moment of silence, he clutched his wound and howled in pain.
The albino girl, trembling and clutching her clothes, hid behind Huowang, her face pale with fear.
"You're done for!" the boy screamed, his expression twisted with fury. "Do you even know who I am to the Master? He'll kill you!"
"He's nothing. Less than nothing!" Huowang spat, his voice cold and unwavering.
The cave fell silent. No one could believe that Huowang had dared to utter such words.
Taking a deep breath, Huowang suppressed his rising anger. Why am I even angry? This isn't me. Stay calm. Don't let these people influence who I am.
Before he could reflect further, a voice called out from the cave entrance.
"Junior Brother Li, Junior Sister Wang, the Master summons you."
The speaker was a tall youth wearing a worn blue Daoist robe, far better than Huowang's tattered linen. He carried a horsetail whisk and wore an expression of arrogance.
The cleft-lipped boy grinned maliciously. "Hah! You're done for now!"
Huowang ignored him, turning to follow a pale, crooked-mouthed woman toward the cave entrance. However, after a few steps, someone tugged at his sleeve.
Turning, he found the albino girl staring at him with tear-filled eyes, shaking her head in silent pleading.
With cold detachment, Huowang shook her hand off and strode forward.
The passage opened into a larger cave, its uneven walls lined with other hollowed-out chambers, each serving a specific purpose. The network of tunnels resembled an enlarged ant nest, complete with rotting peachwood plaques marking the names of each room: Ling Palace Hall, Old Precepts Chamber, Qingzu Hall, Four Emperors Hall.
The natural cave system had been crudely transformed into something resembling a Daoist temple.
As they walked, the crooked-mouthed woman pulled out a lump of blackened candy from her pocket and offered it to Huowang.
"Want...sugar?" she asked, her voice slow and slurred.
Frowning, Huowang snatched it and stuffed it into his sleeve without a word. The woman, seemingly satisfied, took another piece for herself and continued, "The Master...is kind. With him, there's sugar..."
Ignoring her, Huowang continued walking until they arrived at a massive, blackened alchemical furnace that dominated the cave. Towering like a metallic mountain, its shadow loomed oppressively over them.
By the furnace sat a figure in a blue robe, hair streaked with white, appearing from behind as dignified and otherworldly.
However, when the man turned, Huowang's eyes narrowed in disgust.
The Master's face was grotesque—a head covered in warts, a mouthful of yellowed teeth protruding from his overbite.
"You're here, my good disciples. Took you long enough," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery.
With a wave of his dirty sleeve, he grabbed the crooked-mouthed woman and tossed her into a stone vat.
Before she could even scream, he lifted a massive pestle and brought it crashing down on her skull.
Her cries were cut short as the sickening squelch of flesh and bone filled the air.
Huowang stood frozen, his face twitching involuntarily with each strike. Blood and gore splattered the Master's face, but he remained unfazed, chanting a rhythmic incantation as he worked.
When the pulverized remains were dumped into the furnace, the Master raised his arms triumphantly.
"Rise, furnace! Refine the elixir!"
The scene burned itself into Huowang's memory as the Master turned his bloodstained face toward him.
"I hear you called me...a fart?"
The suffocating tension made the air feel heavy.
Closing his eyes, Huowang forced himself to breathe steadily, repeating to himself: This isn't real. None of this is real.
"Answer me! Are you mute?!"
The Master's foul breath washed over Huowang as his voice thundered.
Clenching his fists, Huowang mustered all his strength and snapped his eyes open.
The oppressive cave vanished.
In its place was a bright, sterile hospital room. Huowang lay strapped to a bed, the cold reality of the psychiatric ward grounding him once more.