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墨書 Inktalez
Purple Thunder fell to the ground, flames soaring into the sky.
The golden light of the formation flickered chaotically, and what he saw last was the astonished faces of the people from Righteous Path...
Every inch of his body was in agony.
It felt as if countless ants were burrowing into his flesh, gnawing at him, causing him to wish that these ants would simply hollow him out, leaving behind just an empty shell and skeleton, so at least he would no longer feel pain.
Suddenly awakened from the deepest darkness, Shen Jinglan found himself drenched in sweat. He heard his own heavy breathing.
He opened his eyes; there was a hazy light before him, but he couldn't discern anything clearly—there was still a thick blood color staining his vision.
"Finally awake?" Someone was wiping him with a cloth soaked in hot water, speaking in a cheerful voice, "You’ve sweated a lot!"
As the blood color in his eyes faded somewhat, he saw that the speaker was a Middle-Aged Man, sturdy and robust, dressed like a Mountain Hunter.
The place he was in was a low earthen house, with cobwebs on the beams and an old wooden bed beneath him that creaked with every movement.
Recalling what had happened before was still a blur.
It seemed he had broken through the encirclement of the people from Righteous Path, escaped, used Spatial Technique, and finally appeared deep in the mountains hundreds of miles away... then the poison took effect, and he lost consciousness.
He must have been discovered by this hunter and carried back.
He muttered a low thank you and closed his eyes again. He truly lacked even the strength to move slightly.
After checking for toxins within his body, he found that the purple-black poison had accumulated deeply; according to what he knew, it was an incurable strange poison, and he didn't know how to resolve it. But being incurable didn't mean it would necessarily kill him.
He could circulate his internal energy to expel the poison from his body.
"Have you relapsed and collapsed in the wild? Do you know you almost became wolf food?" the hunter asked with concern. "Send a message home so they can come pick you up."
"Yes. I had already arranged for them to come pick me up nearby," Shen Jinglan replied.
He connected through the void and contacted the Evil Sect, informing them of his situation and location.
Then he retracted all his aura, blending in with the mortals. As long as he did not actively reveal himself, it would be extremely difficult for the Righteous Path to find him, no matter what methods they used.
In a half-dreaming state, Shen Jinglan coughed lightly. He had been here for two days, planning to wait until he felt better before leaving.
Suddenly, he noticed someone peeking at him from beside the bed and slowly opened his eyes.
The mischievous son of the hunter, A Bao, was curiously observing him. When he saw Shen Jinglan open his eyes, he was clearly startled.
Shen Jinglan remained lying down, his eyelids drooping again, his eyes half-opened and half-closed. He said lightly, "You have a turtle drawn on your face."
"Huh?" A Bao quickly reached up to rub his face vigorously, smudging the ink drawing of a turtle into a grayish mess. His face scrunched up like a bun. "It must have been that bastard Wang Hao who secretly drew this while I was napping! Oh dear, why is my mother laughing at me?"
After wiping his face, he seemed to remember something important: "By the way, Mother has been coughing; she must have poor lungs. She made you pear soup. Let me bring it over."
Shen Jinglan had indeed been smelling the fragrance of rock candy pear soup since earlier.
He was sleeping in a room behind the hunter's house that had been left idle; it was likely used for storing miscellaneous items in the past. Aside from an old bed, there was a large pile of clutter in one corner.
"Thank her for me." A bowl of rock candy pear soup, of course, could not help with his pain and the severe poison he had suffered. Shen Jinglan still expressed his gratitude, propping himself up slightly to drink the steaming sweet soup.
He could sense that the somewhat shy yet kind-hearted hostess was peeking into the room from the threshold, and she looked pleased when she saw him finish drinking. Her husband sometimes went hunting in the mountains for two or three days, and A Bao often sneaked out to play with the village children. When it was just him, bedridden, and this hostess at home, she would quietly come in every couple of hours without waking him, placing a bowl of hot water by his bedside.
"A Bao, take this to your parents," Shen Jinglan said as he reached into his clothing, feeling around for a moment before placing what he found into the child's hands. "Consider it a token of thanks for disturbing them; I have no use for it."
What was puzzling was that his Cosmic Bag had disappeared at some point. It was certainly not hidden away by this hunter's family; otherwise, he would have sensed it. With his high cultivation level, he did not rely on magical treasures, and there were not many items in the Cosmic Bag. However, losing it would still bring inconvenience.
He didn't even have anything to give as a thank-you gift.
He also never carried many accessories or jewels with him. He only had a few pearls sewn onto his undergarments and an ancient jade buckle, which were relatively valuable. He took these off and handed them to A Bao.
"For my parents?" A Bao asked, holding them in both hands and bouncing away happily.
Another morning came.
Shen Jinglan listened quietly to the noise outside; he had been awakened by it.
The hunter was killing a chicken in the yard, likely an old hen that was clucking loudly.
He still could not get up. The toxins were slowly being expelled from his body, but the original ailments of this body were worsening. It seemed he would have to stay a little longer... He had already ordered the Evil Sect to remain in Central Plains and not come to fetch him. Any unusual movements within the sect might attract the Righteous Path that was searching for him.
"Not good, Brother Zhang!" A neighbor rushed into the yard. "Old Wang has a wild boar that has wandered into the east side of the village; you need to hurry—"
The hunter quickly dropped the half-killed chicken and followed him out, leaving his wife and son to watch over the hen.
“A Bao, come back! Help your mother with the chicken…” The mistress called out to her son who had slipped outside, seemingly wanting to finish off the chicken quickly.
“Ah—”
“Ah—”
Both mother and son screamed as the hen, with its neck nearly severed and its head drooping to one side, suddenly struggled to its feet and bolted away, leaving a trail of bright red blood behind.
Shen Jinglan lay in bed, unable to help but smile wryly.
The frantic chicken burst into his room through the slightly ajar door.
Shen Jinglan didn’t even open his eyes.
A flash of golden light suddenly appeared between the chicken's legs, as if an invisible rope had tripped it. The chicken fell headfirst to the ground and finally died.
The mother and son who followed in to catch the chicken felt a bit embarrassed. Seeing Shen Jinglan with his eyes closed and breathing heavily, seemingly still asleep, they both sighed in relief.
That evening, Shen Jinglan indeed received a bowl of old hen soup that had been simmering for a long time, filled with plenty of meat. It was unclear if it was specially made for him as a patient.
It was still A Bao who brought the soup in.
While Shen Jinglan drank the soup, A Bao sat by the bed, chattering away. Suddenly, he stood up and waddled over to a pile of clutter, picking up a broken hoe. He tried to swing it a couple of times before tossing it aside and then picked up a wooden leg that had come off a stool.
“No good…” A Bao looked at the wooden leg, shook his head again, and set it down. “Just teaching him a lesson is enough; if I accidentally break his head, Dad will scold me.”
Shen Jinglan could see clearly that A Bao had gone out to play in the afternoon, and when he returned, there was a bump on his forehead, indicating he had suffered a loss. He put down his bowl and said, "You can't beat him?"
A Bao had been coming to check on him occasionally and chatting with him, so they had become somewhat familiar.
"I, I," A Bao blushed, "Tiger is two years older than me and much taller! He bullies Yuyu, and I won't let him bully her. This time I'm going to take him down!"
Since he couldn't win on his own, he wanted to find a "weapon." His father, Zhang the Hunter, was tall and strong, but he had never thought of asking an adult for help.
Shen Jinglan said lightly, "You don't need a weapon; it's not hard to take him down."
"You can?" A Bao was a bit surprised and somewhat skeptical.
Shen Jinglan smiled and lay back down, slowly saying, "Just remember these few points. Strike first, move around to his back. If he grabs you, you just..."
These were the simplest close combat techniques. Although simple, they were very effective.
He hadn't needed them for a long time; as soon as he focused his mind, he could draw upon vast spiritual power. Yet he surprisingly hadn't forgotten these basic things.
A Bao nodded repeatedly as he listened, occasionally mimicking the movements.
"So you're really that amazing! You must have fought a lot of battles, right?" he said with curiosity.
Until his parents sent him off to bed, A Bao still looked excited.
A pitch-black darkness filled with chaos...
Dark Depths There are always indescribable noises, like human voices, mixed with the sound of flames burning, yet never clearly discernible.
He woke up again from the darkness. Each time he awakens, there is always a moment of confusion, as if he has forgotten many things and no longer remembers where he is.
After a while, his consciousness gradually returned.
He was still lying in the back room of a hunter's house in an unnamed mountain village, resting and recuperating.
Zhang the Hunter had not yet gone out; he was weeding the vegetable garden at the front of the house, while A Bao was causing mischief nearby, and the mistress was cooking breakfast on the stove. The sound of barking dogs faintly echoed from the village.
Shen Jinglan frowned slightly.
He sensed the presence of a cultivator—he had concealed his spiritual energy, so the other party could not perceive him, but he could sense them.
After a while, he heard a voice from outside: "Child, don't move; let me test your aptitude."
Then another slightly frivolous male voice said, "Oh, this one is good. Child, come with us; we'll take you to cultivate immortality."
One of them picked up A Bao like a chick.
Zhang the Hunter hurriedly stepped forward with a smile: "Gentlemen, I only have this one son; A Bao is still young and doesn't understand..."
Though he did not recognize them, Shen Jinglan inside had already figured it out. These two were not from any reputable sect but rather subordinates of a great demon, Su Jixian. They were certainly not here to recruit disciples but to select suitable candidates for Su Jixian's alchemical furnace.
Those chosen by them would inevitably meet a tragic fate.
Although both belong to the demonic path, Su Jixian and the Evil Sect have no connection, and the two sides have always kept their distance. Shen Jinglan cannot ask him for a favor.
The Righteous Path has already shown its intent to kill him in the Central Continent. Given the current situation, if he allows Su Jixian to discover his whereabouts, that person will surely turn around and sell this information to the Righteous Path.
His life could be exchanged for an extremely lucrative benefit.
Shen Jinglan did not think any further.
Outside the house, those two paid no attention to Zhang the Hunter and were about to leave with A Bao. A Bao struggled and cried out, but their expressions remained indifferent. A Bao's cries drew the mistress out of the kitchen.
At that moment, a cold voice suddenly said, "Put him down."
Shen Jinglan slowly walked out. It was his first time getting up after all this time; even the sunlight on his face felt somewhat blinding.
He wore a robe with a black base stained with remnants of blood that had not been washed out, and his hair fell messily over his shoulders. His steps were slightly unsteady as he walked. Even he admitted that he looked rather disheveled.
Spirit Sword Destiny might sigh upon seeing him like this. Over the years, Spirit Sword Destiny had always tried to ensure that he lived a life of comfort.
The two Daoists exchanged glances, their expressions serious, fearing they might encounter a hidden master.
Although this person looked as if a gust of wind could blow him down and showed no signs of spiritual energy fluctuations.
"This friend, which sect do you belong to? Why are you obstructing our sect from accepting disciples?" one of them forced a smile and asked.
"Hainan Sword Sect..."
To calmly compose a set of words and deceive the past is not difficult. Shen Jinglan suddenly noticed that the expressions of the two individuals changed, as if they had suddenly thought of something, and their killing intent surged.
Shen Jinglan's reaction was even faster. His body suddenly transformed into a shadow so swift it was almost impossible to see, flashing like a wisp in the wind, and he had already caused the deaths of these two formidable Daoists.
In the next moment, two corpses were engulfed by emerald flames. A gust of wind blew, and they vanished without a trace, leaving no remnants behind.
Shen Jinglan placed the stunned A Bao on the ground.
"Get out of here quickly." He turned his head and glanced at Zhang the Hunter. "Leave now, take the carriage to the town and hide for a while before coming back. Otherwise, your family will undoubtedly perish."
His eyes were as deep as a cold pool, and his voice was as decisive as that of a judge from the underworld.
Zhang the Hunter's family remained dazed and had not yet regained their senses.
He said no more and began to activate his Spatial Technique.
Intense pain surged through his entire body once again... He really should not use his spiritual power anymore, but he had sensed the impending danger.
This time, he had no choice but to leave.
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