Starting Cultivation During a Trip

In the solitary night, the moon resembled the eyes of a fox, gazing indifferently at the mortal world.

At that time, the Central Plains were in distress, suffering under tribulation, war spreading across the land of Kyushu, human lives as insignificant as grass, living in constant fear.

Outside the abandoned temple in the desolate wilderness, a lone crow stood on a branch, its blood-red eyes seeking carrion in the darkness.

In these times, the thing most abundant was discarded corpses, white bones starkly visible by the roadside, with no one to claim them, feeding the crows.

Under the eerie moonlight, the dilapidated temple appeared even more desolate.

This was an era of dwindling faith, where lofty Gods and Buddhas seemed blind to the suffering and war of the mortal world, the cries of the masses unable to reach the heavens.

”Heh heh, this batch of captives is quite a fine catch…”

Deep within the temple, in a shabby meditation room, cold laughter echoed through the night.

Under dim candlelight, a group of shadowy figures huddled in a corner—men, women, and even children, their eyes like frightened beasts, filled with terror and helplessness.

”Not bad, not bad, these males are quite sturdy. Sold to the Southern Ocean, they’ll make excellent laborers, each one fetching ten coins…”

A burly man with a knife scar on his face flashed a satisfied smile, his cold gaze sweeping over the captives, inadvertently revealing the Mauser pistol tucked at his waist.

In these times, not even temples were spared from becoming bandit strongholds, hotbeds of sin.

”Pick out the best of these women, clean them up, let the brothers have a taste first, then send them to Mrs. Bao in the city.” The scarred man’s eyes gleamed lewdly.

”Don’t worry, boss, I’ll pick the young and tender ones to send to your room.” A monkey-like bandit grinned beside him.

Hearing this, the scarred man smiled in satisfaction and then said in a deep voice, ”Ensure that old procuress doesn’t haggle the price down. Fifteen coins each, if one coin is missing, bring the person back to me.”

”Understood.” The monkey-like bandit nodded knowingly.

”Boss, what about the old and frail ones?” asked a one-eyed thug, his hand on the gun at his waist, looking at the captives huddled in the corner.

”Send the males to the third chief’s eating house. He could use some meat there.” The scarred man said indifferently.

Human life was cheaper than grass these days, and food was sometimes more precious than gold. With human disasters compounding natural ones, the roads were littered with those fleeing famine and starving to death.

In some places, humans were collected, their flesh referred to as ’meat rice.’

”Those women who are old and have lost their looks… I guess Mrs. Bao wouldn’t want them either. Take them to town and let those poor devils stack like Arhats. One coin lets them be a man for once.” The scarred man laughed with a sneer.

In the town, there were plenty of old bachelors who couldn’t afford a wife. For a single coin, they could queue up and have their turn, exerting their strength on those women. Why not?

As for the women, when they were near death, they’d be dragged to the third chief’s eating house, making dual use of them.

This haul would bring in at least a few hundred coins.

”What is stacking Arhats?”

At that moment, an indifferent voice came from the corner, echoing in the cold, dilapidated room.

”Hmm!?” The scarred man raised an eyebrow and looked over.

No captive had ever dared to utter a word in front of him, each scared out of their wits.

Whoosh…

Almost simultaneously, the surrounding captives scattered, some looking fearfully in the same direction, apparently afraid of being implicated, drawing boundaries.

The next moment, under the dim light, a solitary youth appeared, seated cross-legged in the corner, in everyone’s view.

The youth was clothed in rough fabric, wearing a patchwork cap, barefoot, bearded and unkempt, yet his eyes were extraordinarily bright in the flickering firelight.

”Tsk tsk, of all the captives I’ve handled in the Green Forest, this is the first to dare speak out.” The scarred man sneered, subconsciously touching the Mauser pistol at his waist.

”You still haven’t answered me, what does stacking Arhats mean?”

At this, the group of bandits laughed, the monkey-like bandit couldn’t help but say, ”If you can afford it, you can queue behind us and stack Arhats…”

”Kid, what’s your name? Have you grown tired of living?” The one-eyed bandit’s remaining eye shone with ferocity as he spoke coldly.

As his words fell, the youth shook his head, remaining seated, moved his finger slightly.

”All things in the universe, return to dust!”

A low whisper fell, rippling outward like water.

Buzz…

In the broken room, a mysterious wind suddenly arose, extinguishing the flickering candle flame, swirling on the ground, swirling up dust…

The three bandits stood frozen in place, their facial expressions gradually solidifying, as if captured in a frame. Their skin desiccating and wrinkling at a rate visible to the naked eye, like wind-dried jerky, their blood seemingly evaporating in an instant…

Under the white moonlight, a series of terrified eyes trembled violently, emitting yelps of fear.

”I am the Three Corpses Daoist.” The youth whispered, as if answering the bandit’s earlier question.

Three Corpses Daoist, compared to the last time Zhang Fan glimpsed memories of the Three Corpses Primordial Pill, seemed to have left Dragon Tiger Mountain for years, with all trace of innocence gone, eyes reflecting the vicissitudes of time, movements possessing the aura of a master.

”Demon… demon…”

At that moment, in the corner, that mass of dark silhouettes could no longer endure the terror before them, letting out trembling cries.

Bang… Bang… Bang…

Meanwhile, several gunshots sounded, in another room, the firelight flared briefly, returning to silence in the dark night.

Following this, the door opened, a large black dog, carrying a human hand in its mouth, swaggering as it walked in.