Chapter Twenty-Five: The Young Man of the Sacred Bamboo (Part One)

Fang Guohuan, heedless of the deadly danger surrounding him, continued to question Yu Mantang, “Divine Physician Yu, although the demonic chess technique can disturb one’s mind and disorient the spirit, why does it sometimes result in death at the end of a game?”

Yu Mantang was taken aback. “Are you saying that the eunuch’s ghostly chess not only harms but can also kill?”

Fang Guohuan replied, “Exactly. A chess master has already died at the hands of the Grandmaster Eunuch’s game.”

Yu Mantang marveled, “So, the eunuch’s chess can kill invisibly—truly formidable! But how can such a murderous magic be manifested within the game itself?”

He nodded, then continued, “The root of death must be in the heart. The heart governs the blood and pulse. If the chess player cannot withstand the killing aura of the ghostly chess, their spirit scatters, their blood flow falters, and the heart’s pathways become blocked. Death may indeed follow. If the art of chess turns into such a murderous craft, there would be no elegance left in the world’s refined arts!”

At this, Fang Guohuan understood the cause of Qu Liangyi’s madness and the monk Zhishan’s death beside the chessboard; they had truly fallen victim to the deadly aura of the ghostly chess. He felt a deep respect for Yu Mantang, but some doubts lingered, so he pressed on, “Although Divine Physician Yu possesses the technique of spirit and brain transference, I still cannot believe it. If a person's brain is replaced, how could the recipient retain the memory and ingenuity of the original owner?”

Yu Mantang smiled smugly. “My medical skills verge on the supernatural. Very well, I shall show you living proof today, so you may truly believe in my abilities and die without regrets.” With that, he pointed to a dull-looking young man by his side. “This is my son. A few months ago, I replaced his brain with that of a man renowned for his mathematical genius. I shall have him demonstrate.”

Fang Guohuan and Bu Yuan were both astounded, immediately recalling the tavern conversation about the “Divine Arithmetician” He Yuyan—the very brain now residing in this young man.

Yu Mantang addressed the young man, “Kuer, let your father ask you: what is seven plus eight plus nine plus six plus three?”

Before the words had faded, the young man replied vacantly, “Thirty-three.”

Fang Guohuan and Bu Yuan were both stunned.

Yu Mantang smiled. “Let’s try something harder: what is thirty-seven times one hundred and sixty-eight?”

Without a change of expression, the young man muttered, “Six thousand two hundred and sixteen.”

“Ah!” Bu Yuan was so startled he almost fell from his horse.

Fang Guohuan was amazed. “I never imagined such a mathematical prodigy existed, or that such a brain-replacement technique was possible!” Yet he asked, “Divine Physician Yu, since your son now possesses the brain of a mathematical genius, why does he still appear so dull?”

Yu Mantang chuckled. “After all, this brain is not his by birth, but transplanted. His heart’s spirit does not harmonize with the mathematical genius’s brain, so the mind and brain are at odds, resulting in this simple-minded appearance. Still, he has the genius’s abilities, is obedient, and suffers no inconvenience in eating or drinking.” He was clearly proud of his handiwork.

Bu Yuan, shaking his head in disbelief, asked, “Is this really your own son? To turn your own flesh and blood into a dullard—old man, you are even more vicious than that eunuch!”

Yu Mantang laughed. “I have many wives and concubines precisely so they may bear me sons. I once had twenty-six sons, though a few died during the brain-transfer procedure. No matter; my wives can bear more. I want each son to possess a unique talent. Training them from scratch is too much trouble, so I took a shortcut: I sought out the world’s most gifted and accomplished men, kidnapped them in secret, and transplanted their brains into my sons. In this way, all the world’s talents and superior skills will be concentrated within my House of Yu, making us the foremost family under heaven. As the father of these extraordinary individuals, am I not then the greatest father of all?” With that, he and the bandits laughed heartily.

Fang Guohuan, infuriated, cried, “A physician’s duty is to heal. You not only refuse to save others despite your skill, you harm the innocent and even reduce your own children to fools! You are a madman—a monstrous physician unfit for this world!”

Yu Mantang was not angered but laughed, “You are mistaken, boy! I have treated countless people in my life—true, I left them penniless, but that’s why I have my current power. How could I harm my own sons? I do this for their benefit: without effort, they possess remarkable skills, to the benefit of all mankind! What harm is there in preserving great talents? Unfortunately, no women of outstanding ability exist, and even those with some talent amount to little. So I use a secret method to ensure my wives bear only sons. Now, eighteen of my sons have acquired various skills through brain transference. To be born into my family is their fortune. If a son dies, another may be born. But the truly brilliant minds are rare and cannot be bought for any price. A grandmaster like this one is a prize beyond compare.”

Bu Yuan cursed, “You are worse than a beast, swapping people’s brains as you please! As long as I, Bu Yuan, live, you will never take Master Qu!”

Yu Mantang’s face darkened. “I tried to resolve this peacefully, to buy the madman quietly. But you refused, killed my men, and now know my secrets. You will not leave alive. Surrender now and I will grant you a whole corpse. Otherwise, at my command, my troops will charge and hack you all to pieces.”

Bu Yuan, enraged, shouted, “Old fiend, take a bullet!” As he spoke, he fired a pellet like a shooting star. The black-faced monk, seeing Bu Yuan raise his slingshot, quickly pulled Yu Mantang aside. The iron pellet whistled past Yu Mantang’s ear, grazing his cheek and drawing blood. Yu Mantang was shaken. The pellet missed him but struck a horse behind, sending horse and rider tumbling, knocking down several others, throwing the bandits into chaos.

The black-faced monk, alarmed, waved his hand. “Attack! Kill them all!” The bandits split into two groups, closing in from front and rear. Even with three heads and six arms, Bu Yuan and his bow could not fend them off or protect Fang Guohuan and the others; all were in dire peril.

At that critical moment, shouts and chaos erupted among the bandits behind them. Bu Yuan and Fang Guohuan turned to look and were overjoyed. A herd of thirty oxen charged in, scattering the twenty-some mounted bandits. On the back of a bull rode a youth wielding a bamboo pole over twenty feet long, sweeping all before him like autumn leaves. In a flash, he had knocked down more than a dozen men; the rest fled in terror. This youth was none other than Lu Zhufeng.

With the rear enemies routed, Lu Zhufeng gave a whistle, and the herd split into two, letting Bu Yuan and Fang Guohuan’s party pass, then charging ahead toward the foe. Lu Zhufeng rode past Bu Yuan, calling, “Don’t worry, brothers. Leave these ruffians to me!” Bu Yuan and Fang Guohuan could scarcely believe their eyes.

The herd charged at Yu Mantang’s group, terrifying the bandits. The black-faced monk, desperate, leaped forward and struck a leading bull dead with a palm blow, then kicked another over. The herd scattered into the woods. The bandits cheered and pressed the attack. A burly man on a yellow horse charged at Lu Zhufeng. With a flick of his bamboo pole, Lu Zhufeng struck down, cleaving the man and his horse in half. The bandits were petrified; the black-faced monk was visibly shaken; Bu Yuan and Fang Guohuan were dumbfounded.

But Bu Yuan, seasoned in peril, seized the moment and loosed several more shots from his bow, sending bandits flying and throwing their ranks into disarray.

The black-faced monk, seeing that Lu Zhufeng’s bamboo pole was a deadly weapon, steeled himself and charged, palms striking at Lu Zhufeng. Lu Zhufeng thrust the pole at his face. The monk blocked, shattering two joints from the tip. Lu Zhufeng felt a shock and cried, “Impressive!” He spun the pole and swept at the monk’s lower body. Remembering how the pole had just cleaved horse and rider, the monk dared not block, leaping aside. Lu Zhufeng’s pole missed, but he twisted his wrist and swept upward, blocking the monk’s landing. Caught in midair, the monk could not evade; in panic, he flipped backward, but not before the pole lopped off his right foot. Screaming in pain, he crashed to the ground. Furious, he launched himself at Lu Zhufeng, intent on a desperate, life-or-death struggle.