“A thumb-sized lingzhi… he actually brought it back?!”
At the patrol camp, Jiang Heng set the lingzhi on the table, sparking gasps from the mountain folk.
“Well done, kid!”
Sly Zhao pushed through the crowd, his hulking frame making the ground tremble faintly. His strength was staggering, a force of nature.
Jiang Heng sized him up. Even with [Barbarian Strength] at full burst, he’d match maybe half of Zhao’s power.
But I’ve only been at this a few days.
This progress is insane!
Rumor had it Zhao had trained for over a decade, gorging on medicinal meals to build his might. His dream was to become a martial cultivator—a realm beyond hunters.
As a lowly mountain dweller, Jiang Heng had only heard scraps of such tales before.
“Reward him twenty coppers and a jug of fine wine,” Zhao said, toying with the lingzhi, his face alight with glee. He barely spared Jiang Heng a gnce.
What a cheapskate.
That’s his idea of a “rich reward”?
In normal times, a thumb-sized lingzhi fetched a hundred coppers, with the Mountain Patrol Division paying ten.
Twenty coppers plus wine—worth about thirty total—wasn’t bad.
But now, with demand for that lifespan-extending recipe, the lingzhi’s price had soared. Why else would a hunter like Zhao care so much?
This debt’s on my ledger, Zhao.
Jiang Heng seethed, but the other mountain folk buzzed with envy. Thirty coppers was three to five days’ earnings for them.
“Coin’s one thing, but catching Zhao’s eye? That’s the real prize! If he makes you a patrol guard, your future’s set!”
“Damn it, why’s my luck such garbage?!”
The mountain folk whispered and griped.
Jiang Heng shook his head. Sparrows can’t fathom the ambitions of a swan.
Their grandest dream was becoming a guard—a second-css citizen in Great Qing, bowing to hunters and groveling before nobles or martial cultivators.
Jiang Heng aimed far higher.
Transmigrated with a treasure like the golden cauldron, I won’t fade into the crowd!
“Jiang, watch your back…”
A familiar voice murmured at his ear.
Turning, he saw Tian, the young guard who’d once shared a bun with him.
“Rat Li was screaming to see the hunter today. Don’t know what he said, but Zhao actually met him. Guy was carried into the tent half-dead but walked out bouncing…”
Rat Li had been beaten to a pulp yesterday, barely able to move, and hadn’t entered the mountains today.
Now he was spry?
That meant Zhao had used a medicinal recipe to heal him.
Why would he bother with a nobody like Rat Li?
As Jiang Heng puzzled, he caught sight of Rat Li in the distance, fshing a sinister grin and dragging a finger across his throat, eyes mocking.
Interesting…
From what Jiang Heng knew, Rat Li hadn’t always been a mountain dweller. He’d once been a patrol guard, eating medicinal meals and learning some martial skills, making him stronger than most mountain folk.
But his gambling debts had forced him to sell himself into mountain dweller status, nding him here.
Looks like Rat Li’s itching for trouble. Fine—let’s settle this.
Jiang Heng had already pnned to flee as a fugitive.
If not for Zhao’s sudden interest in the lingzhi, he’d have left today.
This worked out. Before he vanished, he’d deal with Rat Li for good.
Escape the camp, hit the bck market down the mountain, sell his treasures, buy a medicinal recipe, strengthen his body, and boost his power…
The future’s wide open!
That night, Jiang Heng slept lightly.
In the dead of night, a scream shattered the silence.
“The soul-guiding ntern! It’s out!”
A watchman’s hoarse, panicked cry echoed, ced with fear that chilled the bones.
The soul-guiding ntern… extinguished?
Jiang Heng’s face tightened.
The Mountain Patrol Division’s camps relied on soul-guiding nterns, mystical devices that drew in tainted spirits—souls infused with witchcraft.
In the Hundred Thousand Mountains, Witch Cns lurked, masters of dark arts who forged humans into tools, especially souls. Legends said each cn’s great shaman wielded a Thousand Soul Banner, holding the spirits of at least a thousand victims, fueled by resentment to sughter foes with brutal power.
Where did those souls come from?
Some were cn criminals, but most were Great Qing’s people, butchered for their rituals.
Even lesser Witch Cn members carried the blood of several Qing lives.
A soul-guiding ntern reacting to witchcraft meant a Witch Cn member was nearby.
The entire camp stirred.
Sly Zhao emerged, but he seemed unfazed. After eyeing the ntern’s ghostly flicker, he spoke coolly. “The witchcraft in this soul is weak, barely tainted. The witch is far off and no threat. No need to panic.”
His words eased the crowd, and many sighed in relief.
“Scatter. Back to bed,” Zhao barked.
The commotion died down.
But lying on the communal ptform, Jiang Heng felt a nagging unease.
The nearest Witch Cn settlement is a thousand miles away at Buffalo Mountain’s ridge, past Great Qing’s fortified passes and treacherous miasma zones. To reach here, a witch would need serious power—at least Zhao’s level.
Is Zhao lying?
Why would he?
The situation reeked of something sinister, but with his escape imminent, Jiang Heng pushed it aside. He slept with one eye open, staying alert.
The night passed without incident.
Come morning, he joined the group heading into the mountains.
“Brother Jiang, don’t vanish on me today—your pal got business with you!”
Before they left, Rat Li sauntered over, spat on the ground, and grinned, his yellowed teeth gleaming in the morning mist, the sores on his scalp vivid and grotesque.
Jiang Heng shot him a cold gnce, silent.
Hide? I’m hoping you come looking, so I don’t have to hunt you down.
