Radiant Blade of the Wilderness

Chapter 123: Making Full Use of the Person

Yan Peng burned his primordial essence, drove back the young man in the scholar’s headscarf with a single saber strike, forced his way through, and fled into the forest.

He didn’t stop until his body gave out beneath him. He looked around and confirmed he had shaken off that insufferable pair.

Yan Peng quickly found shelter from the wind and rain, then spent the rest of the night regulating his breathing and recovering in dread, terrified of stumbling into mountain spirits or savage beasts. That would truly be escaping one death only to tumble into another.

The moment the sky began to lighten, Yan Peng fled south. When Qisong Prefecture’s city came into view, he quickly took out a mixture of lead powder and pearl powder and applied it evenly to his face and exposed skin.

Before reaching the perfected Great Proliferation Realm, the most noticeable physical anomaly from his art was his bluish skin. He had learned to conceal this well enough to move freely through various cities.

Once inside the city, winding through countless turns, Yan Peng slipped into a courtyard he had purchased under a false identity, slipped past the deaf-mute servants, and opened the door to his hidden chamber.

He activated a hidden mechanism, and the chamber wall split open to reveal two chests forged from tempered steel.

Yan Peng bit his fingertip and smeared the blood across the surface of the chests. Strange, misshapen gu worms crawled out from somewhere and began competing to devour the fresh blood.

This was a trap he had set in advance. Anyone who came without knowing the secret and tried to open or even move the chests would fall victim to the gu worms.

While the gu worms were occupied with the blood, Yan Peng opened the two chests. One was packed with gleaming gold and silver ingots along with a thick stack of banknotes. The other held two books and several cultivation resources. The topmost book bore three seal-script characters: Miasma Cultivation Manual.

Yan Peng found a traveling case and a saddlebag, loaded up the valuables, and prepared to flee to the far ends of the world.

The Miasma Cultivation Manual and the Gu Rearing Scripture he had obtained were both incomplete. The former could still be cultivated, though without the viscera installation method it was difficult to reach the perfected Great Proliferation Realm. The latter could only let him raise a few gu worms as guardians.

Ten years ago, Yan Peng had still hoped to complete the Miasma Cultivation Manual and find a chance to enter the Dharma Realm. In recent years he had let that dream die, his mind filled instead with plans to save enough money, marry, have children, and settle down as a wealthy man in Qisong Prefecture. He never imagined a mysterious figure would track him down, expose his identity, and order him to intercept the Chen Merchant Caravan and seize the Fuyu Mountain Cinnabar Grass.

To protect the 23,000 taels he had saved, Yan Peng had taken the gamble and gone to Sunset Ridge. Now that the mission had failed, he didn’t dare report back to the mysterious figure. He planned to move his wealth while the other party was still unaware and slip out of Qisong Prefecture.

With that much silver, he could go anywhere in the world and set himself up as a wealthy man. There was no reason to be confined in Qisong Prefecture.

After packing away the gold, silver, and banknotes, Yan Peng picked up the Miasma Cultivation Manual.

It recorded five types of miasma in total, but the art was incomplete, and he had only been able to cultivate three of them.

One was called Marrow-Withering Miasma. It was invisible and colorless, but easily dispersed by the wind. It left those who breathed it dizzy, weak, and drained. Even without an antidote, they would slowly recover once the miasma cleared. The other was Fog Poison Miasma, which could be hidden within mist to conceal its own faintly fishy odor. Those who inhaled it first felt nauseous and sick to their stomachs, and without the proper antidote, couldn’t hold on for more than a quarter of an hour.

Earlier, Yan Peng had used Marrow-Withering Miasma and Fog Poison Miasma in combination—first sapping his targets of strength with the former, then poisoning everyone with the latter. By the time the enemy noticed the Fog Poison Miasma, it was already too late.

Yan Peng had done this to hold Escort Leader Yu, who was immune to the miasma, in check through the others’ lives. It was also why he had promised an antidote. If Escort Leader Yu had truly thrown caution to the wind, Yan Peng wouldn’t have stood a chance against him.

The third miasma he had cultivated was Black Blood Miasma. Those who inhaled it felt their blood boil, and the faster they circulated their true qi, the faster the poison took hold. It was well suited for combat. Yet against the young man in the scholar’s headscarf, it had had absolutely no effect, as if the darkness of the night had simply swallowed it whole.

Phew... Yan Peng let out a breath, stuffed the books and cultivation resources into a saddlebag, and turned to make for the chamber door.

Then his gaze froze.

The young man in the scholar’s headscarf was leaning against the doorframe of the chamber entrance, sword sheathed and cradled in his arms, watching him with an expression somewhere between a smile and none.

”Y-you...” Yan Peng began to stammer.

Then he saw the sword leave its scabbard again, cold light rippling across the blade as the tip came to rest at his throat.

He was like an insect trapped in amber—frozen in place by the void, unable to move.

Frostshade pierced his throat. Searing pain and the terror of death flooded Yan Peng’s sea of consciousness at once.

At the forest’s edge, in the thin winter rain, Zheng Zhuxi watched Yan Peng—lying on the ground—convulse suddenly.

Soon the lone bandit stopped moving and stopped breathing. The stench of incontinence spread quickly.

Yan Peng was dead. He had died of sheer terror.

His dream self had died, and his person in reality followed.

”You tested killing in a dream?” Zheng Zhuxi saw that Ding Songyan had already opened his eyes, and asked as if confirming what she suspected.

Ding Songyan gave a small nod.

”Without testing it, I’d never be sure and be unable to fully grasp the essence of the Great Dream of Three Thousand Years.”

As he spoke, his face returned to normal. A brief shadow of darkness flickered and vanished, and the blue-black scales on his skin disappeared along with it.

Then Zheng Zhuxi saw her junior brother open his yin eyes and turn to address Yan Peng’s ghost.

”What did the mysterious figure who sent you to seize the Fuyu Mountain Cinnabar Grass look like? What were their distinguishing features?”

In his dreams, Yan Peng had been haunted by his failure and had spent them perpetually fleeing that mysterious figure.

Dream manipulation first, then spirit channeling. Junior Brother has squeezed every last drop out of Yan Peng twice over... In the eyes of the heretics, this probably counts as heretical too... Thank goodness Junior Brother joined our Brightnight Sect... Zheng Zhuxi thought to herself, equal parts moved and relieved.

She felt the weight of responsibility on her shoulders grow just a little heavier. She had to set a good example for her junior brother.

”I never saw his face. He wore a Meng Po mask and kept his voice deliberately raspy. He always came at night.” Yan Peng’s ghost trembled as it answered. ”He was about 1.7 meters tall, neither fat nor thin. He threatened to expose my identity and made me do his bidding.”

This world had developed its own legend of Meng Po. According to Zheng Zhuxi, the original form behind Meng Po was the Chi Bird, corresponding to the trait of ”erasing the past.”

Ding Songyan pressed for several more details, until Yan Peng’s ghost dissipated into nothingness.

He turned to Zheng Zhuxi.

”Senior Sister, Yan Peng had roughly 23,000 taels, along with a courtyard, cultivation resources, and other valuables.”

”I wonder how many innocent people died for all that...” Zheng Zhuxi said with a sigh.

Ding Songyan thought it over and said, ”Senior Sister, for an elderly person or a child with no parents, which do you think would make the people around them treat them better? Receiving a large sum all at once, or receiving a modest fixed amount every month?”

Zheng Zhuxi had little experience with such matters, but she put herself in their position and thought it through.

After a moment, the young woman said with a grave expression, ”A sudden windfall might bring disaster down on them. Even if those around them aren’t so ruthless, they would deliberately squeeze every coin out of them until nothing was left, unless they happened to be surrounded by only the best of people.

”As for giving it as a monthly stipend, those around them would look forward to next month’s payment and unconsciously treat them better, hoping they lived longer—unless their whole circle is entirely heartless and foolish. And even if there’s still skimming and exploitation, they would have enough time to wise up or grow, and wouldn’t lose everything.”

”Exactly.” Ding Songyan had seen many cases like this in his past life. He paused, then added, ”For people in the prime of their lives, a sudden windfall isn’t good either. Those who come into wealth overnight rarely hold onto it—only the ones with exceptional self-discipline manage.”

He glanced back at the ruined temple in the drizzle and said offhandedly, ”When the time comes, we can first give the victims’ families thirty percent of the silver to pay off debts or quickly improve their circumstances. The rest goes out monthly. Seventy percent of 23,000 taels is a substantial sum. Just letting it sit would be wasteful. We should find a reliable bank and ask what interest rate they can offer. If the interest can cover most of the monthly payments, that would be ideal. We can talk it over with Fifth Brother Xie and work out a proper arrangement.

”And, Senior Sister, you’ll need to find two trustworthy people from the sect’s trading enterprises to handle the day-to-day management and oversight. Pay them out of the interest. We can’t let this get in the way of our own cultivation.”

Zheng Zhuxi listened in a daze, and after a long moment murmured, ”Junior Brother, how do you know so much about all this?”

Junior Brother Ding was only twenty, a few months older than herself.

”I have past-life wisdom,” Ding Songyan said with a smile.

Brushing me off again... Fine, if he doesn’t want to say, I won’t ask... Zheng Zhuxi wrinkled her nose and watched her junior brother crouch down to search Yan Peng’s body.

Ding Songyan turned out banknotes and loose silver totaling 110 taels and tossed them all to his senior sister. He also found three vials of antidote—one each for Marrow-Withering Miasma, Fog Poison Miasma, and Black Blood Miasma.

He pocketed everything casually. Ding Songyan had just used Yan Peng’s notch-scarred hundred-forged saber to sever the head from the corpse when Xing Chang—armored but with a hollow carved into his breastplate—emerged from the forest alongside the cyan-robed Xie Fengchao, with Pan Yunzhou close behind.

”How did it go?” Ding Songyan asked with a smile.

Ever since hearing that the Three Fiends of Xiao City had been eliminated from Sunset Ridge only for the bandit problem to worsen, Xie Fengchao had done his utmost to persuade Xing Chang to bring troops here to train and suppress the bandits.

Anyone else would have considered it none of their business, but Fifth Young Lord Xie’s disposition was plain: what he’d started, he’d see through to the end.

”Two bandit strongholds cleared!” Xie Fengchao glanced at the body on the ground. ”Want me to head back to the city and collect the bounty for you?”

”No need, we’ll collect it on the way.” Ding Songyan cut away a strip of Yan Peng’s clothing to wrap the head, then grinned at Xie Fengchao. ”I’ll come find you later to discuss something.”

”That smile is too polite. You’re up to something.” Xie Fengchao grumbled and quickly left with Xing Chang and Pan Yunzhou to rejoin the soldiers.

Xing Chang’s next step was to petition the imperial court, in the hope of establishing a military outpost at Sunset Ridge.

It was a slim hope, but worth attempting.

Watching the three friends disappear into the cold winter rain, Zheng Zhuxi turned to her junior brother with a smile.

”Haven’t we been struggling to find anyone named on the wanted warrants along the way? Let’s stay with the Chen Merchant Caravan for a while. There may be others who come after the Fuyu Mountain Cinnabar Grass.”

”Great minds think alike.” Ding Songyan picked up the cloth bundle wrapped around Yan Peng’s head, turned, and walked smiling toward the ruined temple.

This might even lead to contact with a Huangliang Sect grandmaster.