Chapter Eighty-One: The Red Mushroom

Xiaoding and Yue Yurou followed the brook upstream. Rounding a bend and making their way behind a craggy outcrop, they discovered a stone chamber.

Within the chamber lay a small pool shrouded in swirling mist. The brook itself flowed out from this very pool.

They approached the entrance. The doorway was so wide it nearly matched the breadth of the chamber itself. Standing at the threshold, they studied the place carefully, finding it to be a natural stone cave. Aside from the small pool, there was nothing else inside.

Though the serpent’s lair had been pitch black, this stone chamber was surprisingly bright.

Xiaoding, filled with curiosity, searched for the source of the light, while Yue Yurou kept her eyes on the cluster of plants atop the platform at the pool’s center, deep in thought.

Tracing the light, Xiaoding realized it came from within the pool. But the vapors above made it difficult to discern what exactly was glowing beneath the surface.

He then examined the island-like platform at the pool’s center. The platform was ringed by stone walls, its middle filled with soil—like a flower bed shaped by human hands. Could someone have visited this place before?

Growing on the platform were clusters of what appeared to be mushrooms, none very large. Some, slightly bigger, had turned red; the smaller ones were yellow, and most were white.

“There are actually red mushrooms here…” Yue Yurou murmured.

“They say brightly colored mushrooms are poisonous,” Xiaoding added.

“You speak only of ordinary things. Divine herbs, after hundreds of years, will change color,” Yue Yurou replied.

“Hundreds of years? Are these mushrooms truly such treasures?” Xiaoding exclaimed in amazement.

“Indeed. I haven’t yet identified the species, but once I return to the sect and consult our records, I should be able to find out,” Yue Yurou said, her voice brimming with joy.

“But how do you know they’re centuries old?” Xiaoding asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

Yue Yurou glanced at him, then explained in detail:

“According to our sect’s lore, divine herbs and plants change color with age. Most have five stages—white, blue, yellow, red, and purple—each indicating a different age, from young to ancient.

“Some kinds need only sixty years to shift to the next color, while others may require six centuries. The timeline varies greatly among species.

“Not all divine herbs pass through every color. Some may turn from white directly to yellow, then to red or purple. Others only progress through the first three or the last three colors. There’s no fixed pattern.

“The older the divine herb, the more wondrous its effects. Red and purple ones, at the very least, have matured over several centuries or even a thousand years. They are extremely rare.”

Listening to her, Xiaoding’s jaw dropped. “So these are the legendary treasures of Sunset Mountain? Are we about to strike it rich?”

“All you ever think about is money!” Yue Yurou chided, tapping his forehead with her finger. “If refined into elixirs, these divine herbs become several times more potent. Moreover, pills made from them are unlike ordinary ones. Common elixirs are usually black, but those made with divine herbs reflect the color of the main ingredient—white, blue, yellow, red, or purple.”

“So you mean these mushrooms can be used to make elixirs?” Xiaoding asked, his tone almost foolish with excitement.

“Of course,” Yue Yurou replied, still beaming with delight at the mushrooms.

“That’s wonderful! You can take these back and refine elixirs—just give me a few when you’re done, deal?” Xiaoding grinned slyly, already making plans.

“Not a problem! You saved my life, after all. Making a few pills for you is the least I can do,” Yue Yurou said earnestly.

“Thank you, Yue. But getting those mushrooms might be tricky…” Xiaoding observed.

Although the pool wasn’t large, the platform lay at its very center. No matter which way they approached, they’d have to wade a good ten feet or so.

Mist hung thick above the water, making it impossible to see the bottom or gauge its depth.

Xiaoding dipped his hand in to test the temperature. It was scalding, hotter than body temperature.

There was no other way—he’d have to swim. Stripping off his outer clothes and shoes, he kept only the knee-length shorts that Erniu had sewn for him from his own drawing.

Yue Yurou, watching him undress, blushed but did not turn away.

“I’ll swim over and pick the mushrooms,” Xiaoding told her.

“Be careful. Just collect the red ones,” Yue Yurou reminded him.

“No problem!” Xiaoding replied, then leapt into the pool, yelping at the unexpected heat.

After adjusting to the water for a moment, he began to move forward.

He quickly felt the bottom with his feet—apparently the pool was only as deep as a man’s height. A shorter person might be submerged, but Xiaoding, being tall, could walk with his chin raised and keep his face above water.

He’d barely gone half the distance when he suddenly felt something shift beneath his foot—hard and slippery. He nearly lost his balance, flailing his arms to stay upright.

The mist prevented him from seeing what he’d stepped on. Undaunted, he pressed on, but soon encountered the same sensation. At the same time, the light beneath the water seemed to dim.

To avoid slipping, Xiaoding began to paddle with his hands, letting his legs float.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his right ankle, as though something had gripped it tightly.

Startled, Xiaoding wondered what kind of creature could live in such scalding water.

He had no idea what had seized him, only that it was heavy and his ankle hurt terribly.

Wasting no time, he gritted his teeth and paddled toward the central platform.

As he drew closer, the underwater glow intensified. Just as he reached the edge, something seized his left ankle as well.

He kicked desperately, but couldn’t shake free, so he heaved himself onto the platform.

With great effort, he dragged his legs from the water and sat on the edge. There, he saw that each ankle was clamped by a giant black clam, each as large as a carriage wheel. From their shells emanated a faint light—pearls glowing in their depths.

Blood was already seeping from the wounds where the clams had broken his skin.

Xiaoding tried to pry their shells open with his hands, but failed, no matter how hard he strained. He pounded the shells with his fists, hoping to shatter them, but the harder he hit, the tighter they clamped, as though they might sever his feet altogether.

He looked around the platform. It was small, bordered by stone walls, the interior filled with soil mixed with wood chips—no rocks or hard objects he could use to smash the clams.

Xiaoding hadn’t expected such a predicament. What could he possibly do now?