In the Land of Turmoil, corpses had to be dealt with as soon as possible, or else they would attract things unknown. 

A few dozen Turmoilers corpses were piled up and dissolved using corpse-dissolving liquid. Nearly all of them had been killed by the three “Exonerators” leading the way. 

The neither quite male nor quite female “Sixty” in the carriage hadn’t looked out all night. 

The Turmoilers who had raided them were short and skinny, with deformed limbs, but they moved extremely fast. Each had a bladed weapon in hand and stabbed anyone they saw, like mad dogs. All the new believers had come from Great Wan. Great Wan was prosperous and well-ordered, and the locals were generally delicate. Where would they have seen lunatics like this? They had been stunned silly at first sight. 

Last night, a few Exalteds had risked their lives to protect them. But there had been too many monsters, and it was unavoidable that the Exalteds would have too many things to attend to. They had let two monsters slip in. Before the new believers could get a clear look at what was happening, one of their companions was gutted. Though the terrified new believers were on average taller by a head and twice as strong as the Turmoilers, their first reaction had been to scatter. Someone had run out of the Exonerators’ protective ring in a panic and had been bitten to death by the Turmoilers. 

Those two Turmoilers, as if lured by something, had killed people on their way while heading straight for “Sixty”’s carriage. Some well-intentioned person was just about to call a warning when they saw that as soon as the Turmoilers approached the carriage, two rays of chilly light shot out of it, nailing the two ruthless monsters to the ground. 

Quick and tidy. Even the Turmoilers were shaken to a standstill. 

No wonder this “Sixty” had a carriage to ride in. What skills! Killing monsters more easily than killing chickens, all the while sleeping soundly in the carriage as people died. 

At first, seeing that she was young and shy, people had approached her to start conversations. Having gone through this battle, the Exonerators’ new believers all spontaneously kept away from her. 

There was only one fellow named Zhang Da-lang who still had no reservations. He went over and knocked on the carriage, saying, “The Exalteds want to take us to give our departed companions a send off. Are you coming?” 

Wei Chengxiang quietly opened her eyes. 

She remembered this Zhang Da-lang. He spoke with a Ling County accent, the county of her birth. He was loyal and warm-hearted. Even in this sorry state, he still spent all day fussing over people; the whole way, he had been trying to take care of practically everyone around him. He was a lot like her grandfather, who had always been sticking his nose into other people’s business. 

When she heard him speak, she dimly returned to her childhood, when her home hadn’t been broken up and her grandfather had still been alive. 

But she didn’t answer. Zhang Da-lang knocked a few times, got no response, and went off on his own. 

The Exonerators put the bodies of the new believers on some open land and held a simple funeral. 

For each one of their companions who had died for the cause, Wei Chengxiang heard an Exonerator say who they were, what their name was, where their place of birth was, what regrets they had in the world and what cares. Then he led all the believers in reciting the deceased’s regrets and cares with him two or three times. He knelt to adjust the posture of the body, spilled special perfumed water onto it, then said, “Go in peace. We will remember you.” 

The scent floated on the wind. Wei Chengxiang warily soaked her sleeve and covered her nose and mouth. 

She looked on with detachment. These new believers were at first panicked and dazed, on the point of collapse, but as they recited the gratitudes and resentments of others time after time, a resonance seemed to arise between the living and the dead. As if bewitched, accompanied by the perfume, they gradually entered some kind of inexpressible ambience of sorrow. 

Supposing she hadn’t known where the bottle of snow wine behind the big explosion in the southern outskirts factories had come from, she would nearly have been taken in as well. Which of these people who had never had a name could refuse the sense of belonging that came from having someone to recite your joys and sorrows? 

Of the three Exonerators, two were currently taking spiritual stone powder; they were probably cultivating like her. There was also another one who’d kept his hood up the whole way, covering his face, occasionally flying on some object. He was evidently an open-eyed half-immortal. 

She had seen the abilities of half-immortals with her own eyes. To a mortal, even if they weren’t all-powerful, they were close enough. However monstrous the Turmoilers looked, in the end they were still human. A half-immortal could exterminate them with a wave of the hand. If not in order to test her, how could those Turmoilers have been allowed to slip by? As long as you weren’t looking for a place to put your trust, you could have doubts in your heart. Another look at these people, and they were full of holes. 

Indeed, as long as you didn’t fool yourself, there was no need to be too smart. 

The Land of Turmoil had been desolate for hundreds of years. Only traces remained of the public roads, with no one to look after them. They had been broken up by wildly growing trees. According to the old custom of Great Wan, the new believers sang the Soul Calling Melody in chorus. 

Go to the West—go to the West—

Wei Chengxiang had another spiritual stone in her mouth. According to the methods her no-good shifu and the senior in the reincarnation wood had taught her, she entered meditation and frantically rammed spiritual energy into the mortal shell she had used for over a decade. 

Every day earlier that she opened her spiritual eyes was a day earlier she could stop getting trampled on. 

In the evening, Great Wan’s garrison relief squadron took on provisions at the boundary between Southern Shu and Chu. There was a small dock there to put in at, belonging to Western Chu. There was a government post at the dock where you could come on shore and rest for a night. The garrison relief troops notified each ship in turn, telling the passengers that they must not leave the dock and the post, or they would be responsible for their own life and death. 

Foreign posts didn’t accept Great Wan’s cash coins; it had to be gold or silver. A bowl of tasteless, rotten noodles you wouldn’t pay five copper coins for, and they wanted to sell it for two liang of silver. 

It was simply ridiculous. You wouldn’t spend that much to buy a feast at the Phoenix’s Perch Pavilion! 

“If you won’t eat it, there’s nothing else, unless you’ve brought it yourself.” An old trader who was traveling with them, being rather experienced, took out the dry provisions he had brought to soak them in water. “This is the Land of Turmoil.” 

Xi Ping asked, “Then what do the locals usually eat?” 

The table went quiet. Pang Jian kicked him under the table. “Eat. Don’t ask stupid questions.” 

Xi Ping: “…” 

He immediately understood something. He looked at the noodles floating like corpses in the soup and found them even more unappetizing. 

Just then, a sharp whistle suddenly came from a distance. 

Knots of Great Wan garrison relief troops stood up throughout the post. Next, a spiritual beast’s roar sounded. There was a loud rumbling, and all the gas lamps in the station began to shake along with it!

Great Wan’s garrison relief ships issued an order, telling all the relief troops and passengers to board the ships at once. 

All the inscriptions on the steamships lit up, the reflections making the copper relief flowers change color. Soldiers in full battle array stood ready beside the mouths of the beast-headed cannons. 

“They say it’s coming from the Shu encampment’s spiritual beast pool,” Xi Ping heard someone say quietly. “Spiritual animals are the base materials for all immortal tools. There are always evil cultivators trying to steal them.” 

“Such a major disturbance? How bold are the evil cultivators in the Land of Turmoil?” 

“I heard that a ‘silk dragon’ just arrived.” 

“Oh, no wonder…” 

A silk dragon! 

After encountering the gold-armored zheng in the morning, Xi Ping had borrowed a spiritual beast record from Pang Jian to read. Just before it got dark, he had read up to this type of spiritual beast. 

It was said that this was a water-dwelling spiritual beast. Its horns, if ground up, could be used to treat dim sight disease.

An adult dragon could grow to over three zhang long, but its heart was only the size of a walnut. An adult silk dragon’s heart had the texture of stone or metal. Like a powerful cultivator’s essence, it could constantly absorb and store the spiritual energy in its surroundings. It was one of the essential components of the established foundation elixir. Each one was worth over ten thousand gold. 

At the same time, it was a magical tool for “pilfering heaven’s order.” Using a silk dragon’s heart, you could pilfer heaven’s order and use it directly for powering downgraded immortal tools without expending a single spiritual stone. It was the beast of evil cultivators’ dreams. 

“Go back to the ship,” Pang Jian said quietly, giving Xi Ping a push. “I’ll go have a look.” 

Xi Ping didn’t catch on at first. “It’s another country’s encampment. What does it have to do with us?” 

Having witnessed the scene of the spiritual beast grazing first thing in the morning, his slight positive impression of Zhaoye had completely evaporated. He was pleased to hear that the Shu were having bad luck. 

Pang Jian glared and said sternly, “It is everyone’s duty to punish evildoers. Tsk, you’re so young. How can your views be so narrow?” 

Xi Ping: “…” 

For some reason, he sensed that under Pang-shixiong’s righteous expression, the look in his eyes was like that of a weasel that had caught a whiff of chicken. He didn’t look like he was going to uphold justice; he looked like he was going to profit off of others’ misfortunes.

A silk dragon’s horn could treat dim sight disease…

Xi Ping grabbed Pang Jian. “No, shixiong, haven’t you heard that you’ll get diarrhea if you hoard all the good food for yourself?” 

Pang Jian: “…” 

“Xi Yue, go back to the ship and don’t come out,” Xi Ping instructed excitedly. Eagerly, he said, “Take me with you, Pang-shixiong.” 

Pang Jian gave him a strange look. “A mighty son of the nobility like you, don’t you think it’s beneath your station to go do this kind of petty pilfering with a bumpkin like me?” 

Xi Ping didn’t think so at all. He thought that Pang-shixiong’s lack of bother about trifles was very manly. 

“Fine. Did you bring any tools for disguising yourself?” 

Xi Ping did in fact have one. Apart from the heart-protecting lotus, the spirit-winding silk, and the hither seal, the fourth immortal tool he had brought was called the “thousand old skins”—it was a mask that, as its name implied, changed your appearance into that of an old man. What this open-eyed grade immortal tool covered wasn’t only your name; it could also change your aura and spiritual image. Established foundation cultivators and below couldn’t see through it. 

Under cover of night, two figures crossed the border between Chu and Shu, flying on swords in the direction of the spiritual beast pool in the Shu encampment. 

On the way to the Latent Cultivation Temple, Xi Ping had already discovered that Pang Jian, a rather steady person when walking on the ground, seemed to become possessed as soon as he stepped onto a sword. He turned into a white stripe on the waves¹. 

He swiftly rode the wind, fast as lightning, not waiting for his little shidi who had just left the cottage. 

In no time at all, Xi Ping, who had learned to fly a sword not long ago, had fallen behind. 

Xi Ping cursed silently. He was just struggling to discern direction when Pang Jian descended from the heavens and jeered, “Hey, listen, how come you fly a sword like a fine lady walks? Will your face powder come off if you mince too fast or something?” 

Then he once again deliberately shook him off, leaping up like a runaway horse. 

Xi Ping: “…” 

In fact, he felt that his skills were imperfect, and he was very ashamed, but he also felt too embarrassed to ask his shixiong to wait for him. So what could he do? 

He could only strive to follow. At the same time, he got out the spirit-winding silk and lightly tossed it. 

The spirit-winding silk was faster than a sword. It silently caught up to the sword at Pang Jian’s feet and abruptly twisted downwards! 

Most of the spiritual energy in the sword at Pang Jian’s feet was instantly twisted off. Before his self-satisfied smile could fade, he had gone plummeting along with his sword. 

Pang Jian quickly held a breath, bent almost double in midair, flipped over and grasped the sword hilt, threw off the spirit-winding silk, and when he had fallen nearly to a zhang above the ground, he was once again steady on the sword. 

Xi Ping said, “Beautiful! Nicely done!” 

Pang Jian: “…” 

Little bastard! 

Just then, as if sensing something, Xi Ping quickly turned his head and saw a faint bonfire in the thick forest. 

“Traveling traders.” Pang Jian caught up and looked in the same direction as him. “The ones with connections travel by ship, the ones without connections run a risk.” 

Xi Ping frowned—he had sensed Wei Chengxiang’s reincarnation wood. 

So those so-called “Exonerators” had come here. 

Strange. Not far ahead was the Chu encampment. Despite their price-gouging, at least they didn’t have man-eating spiritual beasts running around all over the place. Why did these people want to sleep in the open in a spiritual beast pasture? 

Weren’t they worried about becoming fodder? 

Meanwhile, Wei Chengxiang’s throat had gone dry. 

When the whistle had startled her, she’d had a bit of an ominous feeling. Then she heard someone knock on the outside of the carriage window a few times. The open-eyed Exonerator said softly, “Miss Sixty, your sect is paying a call on the Shu encampment tonight. Why didn’t you give us word ahead of time? How distant you’re being. If we hadn’t seen the mark of your Indignant Cicadas, we would have missed it. May I venture to inquire who has come tonight?” 

What was the mark of the Indignant Cicadas? 

Wei Chengxiang slowly reached for the reincarnation wood. Uncle, it’s over, I’ve run into real ghosts while playing at being a ghost! 

Xi Ping had just landed along with Pang Jian in the woods beside the spiritual beast pool. He let his mind wander and stepped on something soft. 

His spiritual sense felt danger at once. There was no time to react. Coming to a rapid decision, without even turning his head, he jumped towards Pang Jian. 

Pang Jian cut towards him backhanded. Xi Ping lowered his head and passed below the edge of the sword and only looked back when he had rushed over a zhang away. He saw that Pang Jian’s sword had pierced through an animal four or five chi long. 

“Lurking zheng,” Pang Jian said. “Excels in ambush and concealment, moves as fast as lightning, claws that can pluck out a person’s heart. Pretty quick reaction, kid.” 

Saying so, he pulled out a talisman gun and casually shot a stealth talisman at himself and Xi Ping. Their figures immediately blended with the surroundings. “Come on. Stay on your sword, and don’t touch anything in the woods.” 

Xi Ping split his attention, flying his sword after him as he glanced at the distant fire, narrowing his eyes. He told Wei Chengxiang, Wait. We’re going to take care of the real ghosts.