Starting with the flesh-based stimulant

The next day, Zhou He did not go out with Shuanzi.

Tomorrow I'll be going to carry meat; this is a deal I made with the peddler beforehand.

Zhou He had many ideas about this trip.

After Old Han finished sweeping the inner courtyard and returned to the outer courtyard to do something, Zhou He opened the leather box that Old Han had handed him.

The box was exquisite, and the leather was made of a material I couldn't recognize; it was dark and seemed to absorb light.

It feels warm and smooth to the touch, just like touching the hand of an 18-year-old girl.

When Zhou thought of this description, he and his companion were both stunned and shuddered.

The box was lined with velvet, and on the velvet lay a piece of metal of indistinguishable material.

It looked no different from the meat vendors' road signs I'd seen before, except the words on them were a little different.

The front features two large characters, "Qiu Shen," and the smaller characters below read "Jincheng Road, Zuolong County, Tuozi Township," along with a symbol of an oil lamp. It doesn't look very refined, but it's strangely vivid.

The back was covered with dense text. Zhou He took a deep breath, slowly put on a smile, and gently read aloud:

"First, invite the household shrine to sit on the table, then place the corpse on the altar."

Holding a small oil lamp in my hand, standing on lakes, seas, streams, springs, and rivers.

"Kill with your eyes open to avoid disaster, but kill ghosts without hesitation when your eyes are closed."

"Three sticks of incense attract cranes; my god descends to earth to distinguish good from evil."

"The travel permit serves as proof."

As soon as the words fell, Zhou He felt a buzzing in his head, as if all his strength had been drained away.

A gaze, seemingly from a very distant place, swept over him with a vicious look, as if searching his very soul.

Then it instantly detached.

Hunger, that familiar hunger, surged up again.

Tears welled up in Zhou He's eyes and dripped uncontrollably down his cheeks. He closed his eyes, groped to close the door, and climbed onto the kang (a heated brick bed).

Hugging the quilt that Lao Han had washed and dried, she curled up into a ball.

Cold sweat poured out from every pore of his body, quickly soaking the blanket. Zhou He felt as if he had fallen into a deep, dark quagmire.

Zhou He didn't know if she had cried.

He only vaguely heard screams.

It sounded like it was coming from my own mouth, but then again, it didn't.

He couldn't tell the difference, nor did he have the extra thought to do so.

"call--"

A wild wind blew through the porch and blew against the door.

Suddenly, the chickens in the yard crowed again.

In an instant, all sensations vanished without a trace.

Zhou He sat on the ground, his hands supporting his forehead, his head buried between his legs.

After a long while, he finally gradually recovered.

He imagined he must be deathly pale. He reached up and touched his face; tears and sweat mingled together, and his medium-length hair was wet and tangled in clumps.

Zhou He looked up, a smile on his face, a smile that came from the bottom of his heart.

He made the right bet.

He read the words on the road sign aloud, which attracted attention.

This means that, just as he had guessed, each of the so-called travel permits is connected to an incomprehensible entity.

The system of this world seems to have rules, and it's not so chaotic.

Since there are rules, they can be deconstructed, understood, and... exploited!

The smile slowly faded, Zhou He stood up, changed his clothes, and sat back down at his desk.

Looking at the apricot tree in the yard through the window propped open by wooden sticks, Zhou He's eyes grew colder and colder.

The sun sets and the moon rises, the moon sets and the sun rises again. When the sun sets again, Zhou He walks out of the room.

The time I arranged with the peddler today.

He was wearing the same suit that Lao Han had made for him: a clean, tattered navy blue outfit, and a patched-up fisherman's hat on his head, with most of his face hidden under the brim.

The clothes fit perfectly, and I could move freely, jumping and running.

The iron box left behind by the old hunchback was hidden in his inner chest pocket, and the box containing the Qiu God's guide was also stuffed into it by Zhou He.

As you walk, you can faintly hear the knife handle striking the box, making a slight sound.

As usual, Lao Han brought over dinner: handmade mutton dumplings.

"Young master, dumplings before boarding and noodles upon arrival. You should eat more, as people don't get to eat much hot food on the road."

At this moment, Old Han looked like a loyal butler who cared about his young master, rambling on and on.

Zhou He did not refuse, but smiled and nodded, and began to eat the dumplings one by one.

He's been smiling more and more lately.

After finishing the dumplings and washing their hands, Lao Han accompanied Zhou He out of the courtyard. The door gods pasted on the gate seemed to have been blown by the wind for too long, and one of them was about to fall off.

Zhou He was a little curious. Why didn't Lao Han, such a meticulous person, just tear it off or re-glu it?

He didn't ask.

"Young master, you don't have much experience with the trade of coachmen. When you go out later, listen to what your fellow travelers have to say."

Zhou He agreed, turned around and walked onto the dirt road without looking back.

It was almost nightfall, and the sky and earth were a dim yellow tinged with gray, with the shadows of the poplar trees looming indistinctly.

When they reached the fork in the road, Zhou He took a sniff. There was no strange, sweet, meaty aroma in the Li family's courtyard.

He found that his current stamina seemed pretty good, and although the distance to the dilapidated temple wasn't short, he walked with unusual ease.

Soon they saw the dilapidated temple, and outside the temple were two figures, one squatting and one standing.

Upon closer inspection, it was indeed Chen Erlv squatting there, muttering to himself:

"I'm not bragging, but my pipes come from the capital, not Jincheng."

"Look at these leaves, smell this fragrance, it's absolutely top-quality!"

Standing next to him was a tall, thin, bony old man with a white towel tied around his head and a long-handled pipe in his mouth.

The old man was probably the driver; he squinted slightly, looking lost in thought, as if pondering something.

They didn't listen to the peddler at all.

The peddler, however, didn't feel he was making a fool of himself; his words flew as he spoke:

"Master Qi, here's what I'll do: I'll add two more ounces, making it two and a half pounds. Two and a half pounds of dry tobacco will cover the fare for this trip."

"Hmph... Ugh." The driver spat a mouthful of phlegm onto the ground, and Chen Erlu jumped back a step.

Just then, Zhou He came over and waved from afar.

Zhou took two steps at a time and walked up to the two men, looking at the coachman.

The driver nodded to him, bent down, tapped his pipe on the top of his cloth shoes, and looked up to speak:

"Everyone's here, so let's get ready to go... Hey you coward, Mr. Li and the others already paid for my ride, what are you arguing about?"

His voice was a little hoarse.

The peddler rubbed his hands together and chuckled awkwardly:

"You didn't understand what I meant, it's my fault for not explaining clearly. I was thinking that if you take the money, you'll just buy tobacco anyway, so I might as well use the tobacco to pay for the fare, and the Li family's money can be given to me directly."

The driver ignored him, waved to Zhou He, pointed to a two-wheeled motorcycle parked nearby, and said:

"Student, come here, sit in the middle."

By the moonlight, Zhou He could see that it was an old-fashioned, ordinary motorcycle.

It looked quite old; one of the rearview mirrors was missing, and the other was rickety, haphazardly tied together with wire.

The car body is entirely red, with many damaged and peeling paint areas. A steel frame is welded to the rear of the car, with two elastic ropes of different colors tied to the frame.

The motorcycle was parked at the temple entrance, its headlights on, but perhaps because it was too old, they weren't as bright as the moonlight.