Cultivation Begins with Daily Intelligence Reports

51: camouflageTo ensure that everything went off without a hitch, Lin Jingyu familiarized himself with the route and ducked back into the shantytown to find the old rogue, Gong Changshou.

This old man—it was hard to say what other skills he had, but surviving for decades in the outskirts of the market where fish and Dragons mingle and living quite comfortably was a skill in itself.

”Brother Gong, help me out again...” Lin Jingyu approached and lowered his voice.

Gong Changshou’s sallow face immediately broke into a smile. ”Fellow Daoist Lin is back to support my business? This stuff is easy to get, just wait a moment.”

Before long, Gong Changshou returned carrying a large bag of items.

Upon opening it, there were colorful powders, poison needles as thin as ox hair, several bundles of barbed iron caltrops, and even a few small porcelain bottles with pungent odors.

There were also sleeve arrows, throwing knives, and various other items from the Jianghu repertoire.

”Hehe, don’t look down on these things from the Mortal Jianghu,” Gong Changshou winked. ”Used well, they can catch someone off guard! Two years ago, a reckless youth at the Qi Refining Third Layer from the next street was taken down by these very things!

All these things together cost two Spirit Stones, a real bargain!”

Lin Jingyu didn’t have the time to haggle over the fact that Old Man Gong was likely pocketing at least half the profit, so he readily produced two Spirit Stones.

After putting the items away, he knew full well: these things were fine for dealing with those in the early stages of Qi Refining, but against a true expert at the Qi Refining Mid-Stage, they would be little more than a noisy distraction.

However, a heavily injured Qi Refining Fourth Layer Cultivator could hardly be considered an expert!

He weighed his noticeably deflated Storage Pouch; the clinking Spirit Stones inside had decreased by a few more.

”This money is flowing out like water...” he muttered to himself. The pouch was stuffed full with his newly purchased ”trinkets,” making it uncomfortably tight around his waist.

The biting mountain wind swept through the withered treetops with a howling sound, carrying the chill of early winter.

Lin Jingyu stood on a high slope, overlooking the winding mountain path below.

His fingertips unconsciously rubbed the cold bronze square box beneath the coarse cloth at his waist. Inside the box, the bane bone soul-chasing nail lay quietly, like a dormant Vicious Beast, emitting a cold Evil Qi that made his skin tighten slightly even through the box.

He purposefully kept it close to his body so that the moment he spotted his target, he could deliver this fatal ”greeting” and kill with a single strike!

In his mind, his sister Lin Jingxia’s smile as she held back tears in the ancestral hall and the malicious old face of the Third Elder, Lin Chengyuan, hidden beneath a facade of virtue, instantly intertwined like a red-hot iron, searing his heart and lungs.

A cold killing intent congealed in his eyes. ”Lin Chengyuan, you old dog, your time is coming soon. Today, I’ll start by collecting some interest from your grandson!”

He unfurled a simple map he had just drawn. Beside the heavy ink dot in the southwest corner, the three words ”Little Stone Village” were exceptionally eye-catching. The map rustled in the wind like a silent battle flag.

Clang... Clang...

A crude ox cart moved slowly along the uneven, muddy road, each bump causing the floorboards to let out an overburdened groan.

The old yellow ox pulling the cart seemed particularly interested in the withered grass by the roadside, wanting to turn its head for a bite every now and then, but each time, it would be mercilessly whipped on the rump by the driver.

”Snap!” Amidst the crisp sound, the old ox merely flicked its tail in dissatisfaction, snorted, and continued its pace.

”Sir, please sit steady.” The middle-aged driver turned back, a flattering smile plastered on his face as he spoke to the only passenger on the cart.

After about half an hour, the ox cart finally stopped at a fork in the road that was almost swallowed by wild grass.

”Sir, we’ve arrived.” The man jumped off the cart and pointed to the small path that was barely recognizable as a road, his tone carrying confusion and a trace of subtle contempt.

”Follow this overgrown path inward for about two or three miles, and you’ll reach Little Stone Village. That place... is very poor, very dilapidated; you’ll rarely even see a decent roof tile. Why would a noble person like you go there?”

The youth on the cart was, of course, Lin Jingyu in disguise. He gave a long stretch, his joints letting out a faint popping sound.

He hopped off the cart nimbly, reached into his robe, and pulled out a silver nugget about the size of a fingertip, tossing it over without even looking.

”Thanks, keep the change.” His tone was as flat as if he had thrown a stone.

The man scrambled to catch it. The heavy silver nugget made his eyes widen instantly, followed by a surge of ecstasy. He bowed repeatedly toward Lin Jingyu’s retreating back.

”Oh! Thank you, Sir! Thank you for the tip, Sir! You’re a living Bodhisattva!”

Until the ox cart creaked into the distance, the man was still clutching the silver in his arms and grinning foolishly. This job was a stroke of incredible luck; forget the ride, even if the young master had kicked him twice just now, he would have felt it was worth it!

Lin Jingyu stood at the intersection, looking at the overgrown path, and let out a helpless sigh.

He hadn’t expected that the ”Little Stone Village” mentioned in the intelligence would be so remote and far away.

The intelligence only mentioned the name, not the specific location.

He had first flown nearly three hundred miles using the flowing cloud kite. As a result, the five Spirit Stones embedded in the kite’s wings had dimmed to the point of almost going out; he would have to recharge them to fly any further.

Even more troublesome was that the Spiritual Qi in this area was pitifully thin. Forget about Cultivating, even breathing felt labored. It was clearly far from the territories where Cultivators gathered, belonging to the backwaters of the Mortal world.

After a lot of effort asking around in several nearby Mortal towns, he finally confirmed the location of Little Stone Village.

After several transfers, switching between ox carts and mule carts, and finally having to rely on his own two legs, he had finally reached the edge of the village.

This feeling was just like going back to his remote rural hometown during his university days in his previous life—requiring a train to a bus, a bus to a tricycle, and finally a walk to get there.

He took out a breath-concealing talisman and lightly tapped it against his chest. The Talisman flashed with a faint light, and the slight trace of a Cultivator’s aura on him vanished instantly. He became no different from a hardworking farmer by the roadside.

Even if a Qi Refining Mid-Stage Cultivator passed by now, without careful investigation, they would never be able to see through his background.

He tugged at the coarse hemp short-coat he had specifically changed into, then rubbed some dirt and ash onto his face and neck. He carried a half-worn bamboo basket on his back, inside of which were randomly stuffed some unknown wild grasses and vegetables he had just pulled up, still clinging to fresh soil.

He walked along the overgrown path, and before long, a few clusters of low, dilapidated adobe thatched houses appeared before his eyes.

A few thin wisps of cooking smoke drifted out from the gaps in the thatched roofs, twisting and rising into the gray sky, only to be quickly dispersed by the mountain wind.

The air was filled with the unique scent of burning firewood, the smell of earth, and a faint, lingering odor of animal manure, all mixing together to form the slightly bitter scent characteristic of a poor village.

Lin Jingyu carried the bamboo basket, slowing his pace, his face intentionally adopting a look of fatigue and bewilderment.

”Old Sir!” He took a few quick steps and stopped an elderly man who was carrying a small bundle of dry firewood, his back hunched and his steps faltering.