Chapter Fifty-Nine: Spitweed and Wild Senna

Brother Rooster was ferociously pecking, his sharp talons desperately clawing at the writhing creature beneath him. Nearby, two hens flapped and clucked in panic, piling atop one another, while the chicks had already huddled in the far corner of the coop, trembling before a predator that naturally occupied a higher rung on the food chain.

Cock-a-doodle-doo!

A hiss!

With a triumphant cry, Brother Rooster, bolstered by his recent gains in fat and strength, finally managed to drive his beak into the snake’s scales.

Blood splattered, and the serpent recoiled in pain, twisting to try and coil around its attacker and crush it to death.

This was the scene Chen Yu arrived to witness.

Atop the fray, the fiery red rooster launched himself again and again, claws and beak striking as dust scattered. His opponent—a regal banded snake, five or six feet in length.

Yellow and black interlaced, its scales fine and intricate.

The battle between rooster and snake was fierce.

Looking to the side, Chen Yu saw that the coop itself remained intact, but a large hole had been dug in the corner of the dirt. This must have been the point of entry for the snake.

Not far from the hole, a chick lay on the ground, wings drooping, feathers in disarray, lifeless.

He stepped closer, gripping a wooden stick, weighing it in his hand, and silently approached, intent on punishing this chicken thief.

But perhaps Brother Rooster was too formidable; he managed to drive the snake back on his own, forcing it to retreat from the coop and slither away before Chen Yu could intervene.

Relying on his own abilities, Chen Yu gave chase for a short distance, but with dusk settling and the grass thick, he soon lost sight of the snake and returned.

Such misfortune—everything fine, and then a snake attack.

Chen Yu stooped to pick up the chick’s body.

Beside him, Brother Rooster stood with his head held high, feathers glossy and puffed, like a victorious general. Upon seeing the two-legged creature, he immediately rushed forward without hesitation.

Who knows what grudge this fellow bears against Chen Yu!

But this time, the rooster had performed valiantly, so Chen Yu didn’t mind; he gently pushed the bird aside and left the coop.

He dug a modest grave far from the temple, buried the chick, and covered it.

“There are many wild beasts on the mountain. I should have thought of that sooner.”

Returning to the courtyard, he gathered some tiles and laid them at the base of the chicken coop, tamping down the gaps between the fence and the ground.

He searched the area, and indeed found several more holes, large and small—clearly the handiwork of the hens and chicks, still lingering in fright, scratching for food.

“Troublesome creatures, every one.”

---

Chen Yu rubbed his chin thoughtfully, vaguely recalling that the temple had some realgar. He searched thoroughly, but found nothing.

Resigned, he considered other options. He’d driven off one snake today, but who’s to say there wouldn’t be more tomorrow or the next day?

He needed a permanent solution.

His thoughts turned to insect-repelling herbs; he resolved to search for some at dawn.

“Spitgrass... if memory serves, there’s some by the cliffs. And this one—I’ve seen it by the mountain stream.”

Fragments of his predecessor’s memories helped him recall several folk remedies reputed to repel insects and snakes; he planned to collect them all, grind them into powder or transplant them, and arrange them around the temple.

After this ordeal, he lost the mood for martial practice, so he settled in the courtyard, contemplating the spiritual technique he’d barely begun to grasp.

He sorted through his thoughts, corrected two errors, closed his eyes, and circulated his spirit. Though the focus soon faded, it lasted a few breaths longer than before.

Chen Yu’s expression remained calm, undismayed.

“Bit by bit, step by step, that’s how progress is made.”

By contrast, his progress with the Spirit-Strengthening Technique was much swifter. As early as April, he’d combined it with external training methods, greatly accelerating his physical conditioning. Though the spiritual liquid’s effects were limited now, he had begun to make real headway in exploiting the technique’s potential.

---

The next day, dawn was just breaking.

He offered incense to the Daoist patriarch, practiced the Qi-gathering technique beneath the morning glow, then set off toward the cliffs with his bamboo basket.

It was the same spot where he’d first gathered mushrooms.

On the way, he recalled the descriptions and information about snake-repelling herbs.

Two were key: Spitgrass and Wild Cassia.

The latter had a common name—Snakebane.

Snakebane was clearly more effective, but far harder to find. It mainly grew in the northern parts of Guangyong, with only scattered patches around Shiya, so finding any would depend on luck.

He climbed the slope, crossed the steep cliff, and returned to the sunken pit where a dead tree still stood, now draped in lush ferns. Mushrooms speckled yellow and red clung to the trunk, a spider’s web suspended in the air, waiting for prey.

Chen Yu searched for a while; Spitgrass eluded him, but he found a heap of Groundfruit. Stripping away the grass and dirt, he peeled one and ate it, savoring its sweet juice.

Deeper in, the meadow was carpeted with fruit, flowers blooming in profusion, butterflies fluttering in pairs before his eyes.

“Here’s a bunch.”

His keen eyesight quickly spotted something beneath a tree’s shade.

He picked it, tossed it into his basket, and moved on.

---

Spitgrass was low and slender, topped with a few knobby fruits, unremarkable in appearance but highly effective.

He didn’t venture too deep—the overly damp areas were poor habitat for Snakebane. He planned to try his luck on the periphery.

He searched the meadow, and after nearly an hour found the first Snakebane plant.

Its upright stalk was six feet tall, leaves clustered like eggs above and below, a bright yellow bud at the tip, not yet opened but releasing a faint fresh scent.

He examined it closely, confirmed it was Snakebane, and pinched off a leafstem. The purple-red glands inside emitted a scent that could repel most snakes.

In fact, Wild Cassia did more than drive away snakes—it neutralized poison, reduced swelling, and treated dysentery. Its uses were manifold.

“Keep going.”

On the mountain, the young man bounded from a stone platform onto a block of black rock, bent to pick another tall grass rooted in the soil, then leapt up again, climbing in a few steps to another spot.

Luck seemed to be with him; after finding the first Snakebane, he continued to discover more.

In less than two hours, Chen Yu had gathered over twenty plants, many uprooted to try transplanting back home.

If transplanting failed, it mattered little—stem and leaves could still repel snakes, and also worked against ants and insects.

He wandered through the forest for a while longer. Judging the basketful of herbs to be sufficient, he prepared to return, but unexpectedly discovered a pair of footprints in a woodland clearing.

Large, pressed deep into the grass.

“Bear? Tiger?”

Judging by their size, only such creatures could fit the bill.

This thought brought a sigh to Chen Yu’s lips—the mountain truly had everything.

Last time, he’d encountered a greedy deer here, which had ruined one of his herbs. Now, it seemed a tiger or bear had appeared.

Still, precautions were necessary.

Though the cliff was some distance from the temple, and a detour through the rear woods would be long, there was no guarantee these beasts wouldn’t blunder in, just as that foolish deer had.

“Time to reinforce the chicken coop and add another layer to the herb garden, lest they be destroyed.”

As for himself, Chen Yu wasn’t too worried.

Subduing tigers and bears would be tough, but with his agility, he could certainly escape if needed.