Starting Cultivation During a Trip-Chapter 47: The Eerie Slimming Oil and Old Zhang from the Construction Site
Bai Buran came to Yujing City seven years ago, and ever since then, he’s established himself here.
The incident Wang Tiantian mentioned happened four years ago—at that time, Night is not bright hadn’t even opened yet.
"He’s a Daoist from Zhenwu Mountain?!" Zhang Fan mused, then asked offhandedly, "Did he see anything out of the ordinary?"
"That Daoist said Building A1 is built on a special spot. East University sits right atop a Dragon Vein, but the mouth of this vein is marred by a poisonous sore."
"A1 teaching building was built right over that sore—an evil act, a capital crime." Wang Tiantian’s voice was grave.
"Dragon Vein..."
Zhang Fan fell silent. To a cultivator, Dragon Veins weren’t just wind and water treasures created by heaven and earth—they determined life and death, foretold fortune and calamity, disrupted Yin and Yang, held secrets of fate.
He remembered seeing a record about Dragon Veins in the Dao Secret Record.
More than fifty years ago, there was a Feng Shui Master in Jiangbei Province. His life was destitute and obscure. On his deathbed, he called his son to him, begging him over and over to bury him the back mountain’s wasteland, naked, head-down, inverted in his grave.
After the Feng Shui Master died, his son couldn’t bear to see his father buried without even a shroud, so he wrapped the corpse in a straw mat.
Ten years later, the son became a famed and wealthy merchant. Around then, he recalled his father’s instructions: If the family ever prospered, the ancestral grave must be relocated.
So, the son followed the will and opened the Feng Shui Master’s grave. To everyone’s shock, in those ten years the master’s corpse had not decayed; instead, his body was covered in scales, his lower half transformed into a giant python’s tail.
The rumor spread like wildfire. Some said the Feng Shui Master had found a Dragon Vein, and that burying him head down would let him fully absorb earth energy, ascend into a dragon, bring blessings to his descendants. But his son, soft-hearted, had wrapped him—foreign material spoiled the transformation. Instead of a dragon, he turned into a wicked flood-drake. The family got blessings, but with hidden misfortune.
Sure enough, at age forty, fire struck—the entire family, thirteen lives, none survived.
"Dragon Veins... Yujing City is the Ancient Capital of the Six Dynasties. Though the kingly aura is waning, it’s spawned quite a few little dragons..." Zhang Fan muttered.
He’d read in Thousand-Year-Old Demon’s forum post that Taoyuan Square was also built atop a Dragon Vein. But not just any—it was a vicious one, seven fangs protruding, violent omen cutting through, and if livestock were sacrificed, supernatural unrest would surely follow.
"Zhang Fan..."
Just then, Wang Tiantian’s words pulled Zhang Fan from his thoughts.
"Yeah?"
"You know... Taoyuan Square isn’t clean either, right?" Wang Tiantian lowered her voice, speaking softly.
"I’ve heard," Zhang Fan nodded.
Of course he’d heard. Taoyuan Square was infamous in Yujing City. Locals even called it ’Taoyuan Corpse Lot.’
"Actually..." Wang Tiantian hesitated.
"Actually, what?"
"You know our company’s in the slimming and medical beauty business... Since I started, in just half a year, six people have died." Wang Tiantian’s words were shocking.
"How did they die?"
Zhang Fan’s face showed his surprise. Not a peep of any rumor had reached him.
"The official word is: medical accidents..." Wang Tiantian’s voice was low and tense.
The He Family held power—unmatched connections. Pay off the families, settle it under the table, cover things up so tight not even a whisper escapes.
"Six deaths, ’medical accidents’ in half a year?" Zhang Fan couldn’t buy it.
Everyone loves beauty. Especially now, girls will endure any pain, pay any price: whitening shots, hyaluronic acid, bone shaving, implants... anything to shed their old skin, become ever more beautiful, butterfly-like.
Suffering and cost aside, it shouldn’t be deadly—let alone six dead in half a year. Way too suspicious.
"There’s something wrong with our company..." Wang Tiantian glanced around warily, lowering her voice.
Skinny Pig’s flagship project was slimming. They had a kind of slimming oil—miraculous stuff. No surgery, no drugs, no exercise, no diet—just rub it all over your body, and you shed the pounds like magic.
"Half a month ago, number six died... And that was a client I received myself..." Wang Tiantian recalled.
The girl was called Xiaomei—after her boyfriend broke off their engagement, she gave up on herself, binged incessantly until her weight soared, nearly hitting 200 lbs.
Because of that, Xiaomei became reclusive and overeating, refusing to go out or socialize. Life stagnated and fell apart, until her girlfriends couldn’t stand it and dragged her to Skinny Pig.
"At first, she bought a package—a course, three jars of slimming oil, our star product. Slightly white, kind of fishy smell..." Wang Tiantian said.
Xiaomei used it for two days—her waist shrank visibly, her appetite fell off.
Seeing results, she kept at it religiously. A week later, she’d lost twenty pounds, looked ruddy—not pale—but the oil ran out.
When Xiaomei came to buy more, it was the manager who met her. Management said she’d had great results with one course, but if she wanted to maintain them, she’d need the upgraded slimming oil.
"The manager took her into the Refinement Room—it’s the company’s core department, access restricted. That’s where they say the oil is developed and made..."
"So that’s your company’s cash cow." Zhang Fan understood. "What high-tech’s inside?"
"Once, I peeked through the door—there’s nothing there... doesn’t look like any research lab..." Wang Tiantian’s brows knitted slightly.
There was just a shrine, an altar with a painting—some kind of exotic beast, shaped like a pig but skeletal, skin taut over bones, pools of oily liquid oozing off its body, and all around, piles of cold, white bones.
"The incense there burns heavy—rest, I couldn’t see." Wang Tiantian shook her head.
After that, she never saw Xiaomei again. Not until last week, when Xiaomei’s family came raising hell, did she know—the girl was dead.
"This... Senior, maybe you should quit." Zhang Fan’s tone was grave.
The He Family already has a ’making horse spirits’ background. By Wang Tiantian’s account, He Fei’s company is definitely off.
"I already resigned—today’s my last day..." A sense of relief washed over Wang Tiantian’s face.
"Zhang Fan, I won’t be here tomorrow. Tonight, Senior treats you to dinner."
"Alright." Zhang Fan felt a tinge of loss, but still nodded.
"Pick me up after work, okay?" Wang Tiantian flashed a sweet smile.
"No problem."
...
Evening.
13th Floor, deepest office of Skinny Pig.
A faint candle flame flickered, illuminating He Fei’s face. Between his brows, a wisp of crimson seemed to dance—what they called ’rosy glow in the face.’
"Just one left—when all seven lives are gathered, the Dragon’s Tooth will carry the corpses, and the Dragon Saliva will be born..."
A deep, magnetic voice drifted from the corner.
"Over twenty years ago, my He Family soared sky-high thanks to a sage’s guidance... He said the He Family would enjoy twenty years of fortune, but after that, we’d face a choice, our fate hanging by a thread." He Fei glanced into the shadows, his voice heavy.
"You’ve already made the best choice. Once you refine Dragon Saliva, the He Family will be yours. Another twenty years of luck awaits." The deep voice sneered coldly.
"Then, I’ll help you... Not a single one of Night is not bright will walk away." He Fei said flatly.
...
Guangling City, a construction site.
Under the scorching heat, a lean, tough man sat alone among the rebar and concrete, staring at the sky, lost in thought.
"Old Zhang... not sleeping again?"
Just then, an old man reeking of alcohol staggered over.
"Can’t sleep," Zhang Lingzong replied offhandedly.
"You’re something else... never sleep, night after night. Missing home?" The old man grinned.
"My son’s graduating this year..."
"Tsk, so he’s about to get his first taste of society’s beatdown, huh? I get it—you’re just worried he’ll get bullied out there." The old man chuckled.
"Relax. Young men, a little hardship does them good."
"He’s suffered enough already..." Zhang Lingzong gazed toward Yujing City, murmuring softly.
"Who knows when this endless night will finally give way to dawn."
"Dawn!?" The old man glanced at the darkening sky and was momentarily confused.
"If anyone really bullies him..."
His words trailed off, a cold glint flashed in Zhang Lingzong’s eyes. He turned and walked back to the shed.
"Bullies what!?"
The old man paused, but in the end, he only caught two words.
