Chapter Thirteen: Controlling the Venomous Ants

In the days that followed, Tong Jin settled comfortably in the old man’s home. Every morning at dawn, he would climb the mountain to gather medicinal herbs. Along the way, if he came across prey that was easy to catch, he would use a simple bow and arrow he had made to capture it for food. The herbal ointment the old man instructed him to apply to his foot was remarkably effective; within three days, the wounds on Tong Jin’s soles began to scab over and new flesh started to grow.

Learning that these medical remedies were gradually developed by the villagers themselves, Tong Jin felt a newfound respect and immediately regretted not having learned some basic medical skills from the ghost doctor earlier—skills that could have been tremendously useful now.

Although the herbs Tong Jin collected for the old man were more than sufficient, he considered that he would soon depart and did not want the old man to interrupt his treatment. So, he made it a point to gather herbs daily, drying them out in the sun before the house each day and storing them carefully. Taking advantage of this routine, Tong Jin also familiarized himself with many kinds of medicinal plants and learned how to use them.

In his spare moments, Tong Jin took out the basic ancient texts the ghost doctor had given him to study. Within one of these books, he discovered secret methods for cultivating and controlling the corpse-poison ants.

Knowing this secret method, Tong Jin immediately set about preparing. What he needed most now was a life-saving treasure, and the corpse-poison ants were undoubtedly the most powerful tool at his disposal.

According to the secret instructions, the first step was to feed the ants with blood. This process was quite particular: the ants needed to have fasted for seven days before feeding, and the feeding had to continue for seven consecutive days. This step was meant to instill in the ants a subconscious fondness for their master. However, the blood used for feeding had to be mixed with the essence of a rare spiritual herb called the Red Dragon Golden Branch. Only then could the ants suppress their natural ferocity toward their owner, preventing them from biting him. Thereafter, every few months, the owner would need to repeat this blood-feeding ritual to keep the ants attuned to his scent.

Tong Jin was somewhat disheartened. He had never heard of the Red Dragon Golden Branch, let alone where to find it. The mightiest weapon he possessed was thus bound to remain unused, idly kept in his pocket. As his frustration grew, a bold idea suddenly flashed through his mind.

Tong Jin was not one to hesitate; once an idea struck, he acted. Counting back, he realized it had been seven days since he fled the Medicine Valley. Taking out a delicate stone box, he bit his finger and carefully allowed his fresh blood to drip through several narrow ventilation holes into the box. Immediately, he heard the crackling sound of a dozen or so poisonous ants scrambling for the blood.

“Eat, eat, fill yourselves up and then obey me,” Tong Jin muttered. After feeding them three times in this way, when the box fell silent, he carefully put it away.

For the next few days, Tong Jin continued the blood-feeding ritual daily. On the seventh day, he rose early and headed to a relatively flat area near the cliff where he usually gathered herbs.

He fed the ants until the box was quiet, then cautiously opened a crack. Suddenly, a black shadow darted out of the box. Tong Jin’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly snapped the copper lid shut.

“Just one escaped?” he breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t entirely confident in his bold experiment—if it failed, he wouldn’t lose his life, but suffering hardship or losing the ants was a prospect he wanted to avoid.

Seven days earlier, Tong Jin had dared to experiment because he was not afraid of the ants’ poison. He had thought to skip using the Red Dragon Golden Branch essence and rely solely on his own blood to forge the connection with the ants. After ingesting the Earth Spirit Immortal Fruit, he knew the ants had developed an unusual fondness for his blood. If he fed them regularly, perhaps they wouldn’t harm him but instead become a great ally.

It was a gamble.

As Tong Jin’s nerves fluttered, a buzzing insect flew swiftly from a distance and landed on the finger he had just bitten, greedily drinking the still-fresh blood.

Tong Jin remained perfectly still, allowing the juvenile insect to feed. Soon, satisfied, it crawled around his hand before buzzing and circling in front of him.

Confused, Tong Jin took a moment to realize that the ant seemed to want to return to the stone box. He took it out and lifted the lid fully. With a joyful buzz, a dozen ants finally got air and burst out, flying excitedly into the sky.

“Hahaha, it worked!” Tong Jin almost leapt for joy. The ants did not attack him but followed the largest one as it flew swiftly before gently settling back into the box in his hand.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Tong Jin smiled, carefully sealing the copper lid and putting the box back into his pocket.

In the days that followed, Tong Jin immersed himself in several books. These texts covered not only the cultivation and taming of various exotic insects but also detailed descriptions of many rare medicinal herbs and treasures, greatly expanding his horizons.

He also learned that the adult corpse-poison ant he possessed was not the ants’ ultimate form. The author of the ancient text had not revealed what their final form would be, but Tong Jin understood that with each hibernation and awakening, the ants grew closer to maturity. Most excitingly, feeding them the Earth Spirit Immortal Fruit was the key to their evolution. This explained why the ghost doctor had patiently waited years for the fruit to mature and why the adult ants favored it so much.

Tong Jin’s heart surged with joy. Since the medicinal effects of the Earth Spirit Immortal Fruit were already infused in his blood, feeding the ants with his blood should enable them to evolve continuously.

“Hehehe,” Tong Jin chuckled to himself.

“Child, what has you so happy?” The old man stepped out of the house, catching Tong Jin’s silly grin and smiling warmly.

“Grandma, you look much better!” Tong Jin greeted her.

The old man beamed with joy. “It’s all thanks to you. This old body can live a little longer now.”

“Nonsense, grandma. I’ve dried and stored enough herbs for you to last three years. Your illness will surely heal gradually,” Tong Jin reassured her.

“You’re so thoughtful, child,” the old man’s expression softened, sounding somewhat absentminded. “I suppose you will be leaving here soon.”

Though reluctant to sadden the old man, Tong Jin answered honestly, “Yes, grandma. I have important matters to attend to. But don’t worry, once I’ve finished, I will return to bring you to live with me.”

At these words, his face darkened slightly as he thought, *Where is my home now?*

The old man, unaware of Tong Jin’s inner turmoil, took the words as a child’s comforting promise and smiled broadly.

***

The next morning, before dawn, Tong Jin rose quietly. After tidying his belongings, he slipped out without waking the old man.

He did not want to bid farewell, knowing it would only deepen the sorrow. So he chose to leave silently.

The moment Tong Jin stepped outside, the old man inside slowly opened her eyes. She did not get up but closed them again gently. Moments later, two streaks of cloudy tears slid down her wrinkled cheeks...