Volume One: The Dragon Rises from the Wild Chapter Thirty-Four: Dividing the Spoils

Page one

Gratitude is extended to Zhongxingqiu, Zhu Haodian, and the mysterious person from "The Ode of the Abyss" for their support with monthly tickets!

...

Within the Scripture Vault, the air was thick with the scent of blood.

Zhong Jian sat on the ground, still dragging his injured leg, but he was unusually excited, constantly exclaiming, "Brother Yu said he wouldn't kill anyone, and I actually believed him. Who would have thought that the moment you made your move, you slew a master cultivator. That strike in midair—killing without a trace, death in a single blow..."

At this moment, Yu Ye was far from excited. His face was pale as he silently stared at the three corpses on the ground.

The two subordinates of Boss Hu lay sprawled in pools of blood; the middle-aged man whom Yu Ye had killed lay on his back, his abdomen a mangled mess of flesh and blood, his lifeless face twisted and grotesque.

"Ugh—"

Suddenly, Yu Ye felt a surge of nausea and couldn't help but vomit.

"Brother Yu, what's the matter? You've seen dead bodies before, haven't you? Why are you so shaken?"

Zhong Jian asked curiously, then realized, "Ah, so you really haven't killed anyone before. After you've killed enough, it'll be no different than drinking or eating meat."

Yu Ye spat out several mouthfuls of sour fluid, rubbed his chest, and gradually regained his composure.

He had, of course, seen death and witnessed killings. But to kill a living person with his own hands—this was the first time in his life. A nameless fear and unease gripped him, impossible to describe or vent. It was as if he had stepped onto a path of no return, his fate now adrift, his life tossed by the currents.

According to Zhong Jian's words, killing would become routine after a while. But then, whom would he kill next? And whose hand would end his own life?

Zhong Jian reminded him, "Brother Yu, the master you killed likely has companions; we can’t linger here. We must find a way down the mountain."

"You’re absolutely right, Brother Zhong!"

Yu Ye nodded, his composure restored. He glanced again at the corpses, puzzled. "Who was this man?"

These past months had brought many encounters and even more confusion, trapping him in endless dilemmas. What did it matter to become a cultivator, or to master sword qi? He was still Yu Ye from Yu Village. Why bother overthinking?

Fortunately, he had unleashed the Seven Kill Sword Qi; otherwise, he and Zhong Jian would surely have died. That fatal blow in the moment of crisis had once again emptied his reserves of true energy. If another formidable foe appeared, the consequences would be dire.

Before leaving the Scripture Vault, he needed answers.

This middle-aged man could wield a flying sword—his cultivation was evidently above Chen Qi’s, but lacking luck, he perished here. So-called masters were not invincible after all.

But who was he?

"You ask me? I have no idea. Let’s search him—maybe we’ll find something."

Zhong Jian said, gesturing. "That flying sword, let me have a look—"

A small, delicate short sword lay quietly on the ground.

Without the infusion of magical energy, its mystical sword aura was gone; the intimidating flying sword now appeared ordinary, its entire body resembling white iron. Though its blade was not sharpened, it still looked quite sharp.

Yu Ye picked up the flying sword, examined it briefly, then handed it to Zhong Jian and turned to the middle-aged man’s corpse.

From a hidden pouch in the corpse’s chest, he found a few pieces of broken silver, and nothing else. As he was about to give up, his expression shifted subtly.

On the man’s right middle finger was a jade ring.

He recalled finding a skeleton in the cave at Spirit Flood Gorge; the deceased had left a jade ring, which Chen Qi had seized with glee.

Could this ring be similarly mysterious?

Yu Ye hesitated briefly, grabbed the corpse’s finger, but the ring was tightly fixed. He applied a bit more force—the finger bone snapped with a crunch. He forcibly removed the ring and held it up for inspection.

"Ah, a storage ring!"

While fiddling with the flying sword, Zhong Jian noticed Yu Ye’s actions and called out urgently, "That’s a storage ring reserved for Daoist elders. Open it quickly!"

A storage ring?

How does one open it?

Yu Ye’s cultivation method and the books he had read made no mention of storage rings. He could only take the ring to Zhong Jian, hoping he would instruct him.

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"I heard elders say that the ring, though small as a mustard seed, can be manipulated by spiritual sense to store countless items. It’s a rare treasure!"

Zhong Jian tucked the flying sword into his robe and urged, "Let me see—"

Mustard seed—the tiny seed of a mustard plant. Such a minuscule space, yet guided by spiritual sense, could hold all things?

As Yu Ye handed over the ring, a thought stirred in his heart.

Clatter—

The ring was still in his hand, yet a small pile of items appeared on the ground.

There were jade slips or tablets, gold and silver, clothing, a long sword, jade bottles, jade tokens, and two small, translucent stones.

Zhong Jian looked at the items with delight. "These must be the contents stored in the ring. Are they all here?"

Yu Ye nodded, surprised as well.

He focused his spiritual sense into the ring and found a heap of items. As he intended to examine them closely, they all flew out and landed on the ground. Within the jade ring seemed to be a tiny space, a few feet across—not enough to store all things, but more than enough for personal belongings.

"Brother Yu, how deep is our friendship?"

Zhong Jian suddenly asked, but without waiting for Yu Ye to reply, answered himself, "We’ve risked our lives together—what’s yours is mine." He spread his arms generously. "We acquired this together; let’s split it up. You take the valuable items, I’ll take what’s left."

"Brother Zhong, do you mean...to split the loot?"

Yu Ye asked in astonishment.

"Even brothers should keep accounts clear."

Zhong Jian replied as if it were only natural.

"Well..."

Yu Ye hesitated, then fell silent.

Killing and robbing, dividing spoils—however unpleasant it sounded, that was the reality, and there was no need for pretense. Since becoming a cultivator, he had done few good deeds but had quickly learned intrigue and the art of dividing loot.

What, then, was the true path of cultivation?

The middle-aged man's belongings were mostly related to cultivation, tempting yet impossible to claim all for himself. One could not be too greedy!

Yu Ye picked up a jade slip, a jade token, and two small stones, then turned to leave, only to be stopped by Zhong Jian, who gestured for the ring.

"If you take the ring, how will I store the manuals?"

"You don’t have spiritual sense, Brother Zhong; the ring is useless to you..."

"No matter!"

Having already claimed the valuable flying sword, Zhong Jian now sought the storage ring as well. Yu Ye did not object and handed it over. But Zhong Jian was not finished; he held up the ring and urged, "Brother Yu, quickly help me store the manuals and all these items—don’t leave anything behind!"

His shrewdness was thorough.

Yu Ye took the ring back, used his spiritual sense to focus on the items, but nothing happened for several attempts. After a moment’s thought, he enveloped the ring with his spiritual sense, and with a shift in intent, a small bottle vanished from the ground. He then repeated the process, storing the items one by one in the ring.

"Whew—"

Zhong Jian, watching from the side, let out a breath and smiled, "I thought you’d try to cheat, but your magic isn’t very proficient." He snatched the ring and stuffed it into his robe, then said, "It’s already afternoon. We should leave the mountain at once!" He extended a hand, asking Yu Ye to help him up.

Yu Ye did not move to assist him, instead asking, "Where is the Black Tortoise Pavilion?"

Zhong Jian was puzzled. "Oh?"

Yu Ye held up the jade token he had just acquired. "The man who died was from Qizhou. If his companions are waiting at the foot of the mountain, neither of us will escape."

On the two-inch white jade token were the words 'Qizhou Zhongshan'. The master that destroyed Beiqi Mountain came from Qizhou.

"Rushing down the mountain like this would be unwise."

Zhong Jian’s expression grew solemn as he picked up a branch and drew on the ground.

Page three

"Brother Yu, look—this is the path up the mountain, this leads to the elders’ cave, here are the disciples’ quarters and kitchen, this is the Cloudwater Ravine, and here is the Black Tortoise Pavilion..."

Yu Ye memorized the mountain paths, picked up his long sword and sheathed it, then brought the long knife and crossbow over to Zhong Jian before lifting his robe and heading out quickly.

Zhong Jian watched his departing figure and couldn’t help but ask, "Brother Yu, how old are you?"

"Sixteen. Why do you ask, Brother Zhong?"

"Be quick and return soon, Brother Yu."

Yu Ye’s figure flashed as he exited the cave.

Zhong Jian grabbed the long knife and held it before him, shaking his head and murmuring, "When I was sixteen, I was just another disciple on this mountain..."

Outside the Scripture Vault.

The rain and mist had not dispersed.

Yu Ye glanced around and set off.

The mountain path was slippery, footing uncertain.

Seeing no one around, Yu Ye tapped lightly with his toes, springing off the ground. With each leap he covered two yards, his form agile and light.

Beiqi Mountain was the domain of the Daoists, its heights forested, strange rocks looming, the atmosphere extraordinary. To roam freely atop these peaks amid light rain and thick mist was to witness a scene like none other.

As he leaped and landed, mountain winds swept past, mist swirled, strange rocks jutted, old pines twisted and spread, the shifting light playing tricks on the eye, reality and illusion blending. It was enough to captivate the spirit, to lose oneself in the scenery, as if within a celestial realm, recalling years gone by.

Yu Ye ran and jumped with abandon, landing after a moment, his eyes bright with excitement.

He had spent three months on Xuanyuan Mountain, never glimpsing the full scope of the Daoist world. Today, on Beiqi Mountain, he explored freely alone.

But today was not for sightseeing.

The mountain path split left and right. To the left, a stone stair led to a cliff; to the right, a few collapsed buildings, with the path winding onward.

Yu Ye grew cautious.

His spiritual sense extended only a dozen yards, less than his eyesight atop the open mountain. The rain and mist shrouded everything; no sign of anyone appeared.

Gripping his sword, Yu Ye quietly skirted the ruins and several squat old trees.

Not far ahead, a mountain ravine appeared. On a nearby cliff, the words "Cloudwater" were carved.

Cloudwater Ravine?

Zhong Jian had said that crossing Cloudwater Ravine would bring him to Black Tortoise Pavilion.

Yu Ye was about to step into the ravine when he paused; spotting an old tree nearby, he climbed it and used it to leap onto the cliff.

On the cliff, over ten yards high, grass and brambles grew thick. Below, a pavilion stood tall. Before the pavilion was a flat mountain clearing, where a crowd had gathered. Some knelt, some lay on the ground, and three stood to the side; one of the middle-aged men suddenly looked up.

Yu Ye quickly pressed himself flat.

At the same time, mountain wind swept mist across, carrying a heavy scent of blood and fragmented voices—

"Where has Gan Song gone..."

"He went after those two fleeing thieves..."

"Master, I am Hu Boss, a wandering hero, not a thief..."

"Heh, so you call yourself Hu Boss? Whether you’re a wanderer or a thief, to me you’re nothing but an ant. How dare you rob the Daoist sect of Sacred Mountain...I returned to Beiqi Mountain to see just how many desperate souls in the Great Marsh fear nothing...You two, go down the mountain and look for Gan Song. Guard the road; let no one in or out...Hu Boss, if you wish to live, obey me and help search the mountain..."

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