From a tuberculosis patient to a martial arts master

When Jiang Chengzhi saw his cousin's corpse fall in front of his face, he felt his three souls leave his body and his seven spirits ascend to heaven.

But with both legs broken, he had nowhere to go, so he could only brace himself with his hands and frantically shuffle backward, his teeth chattering as he cried out in a trembling voice, "No... don't come any closer!"

Zhu Hong simply stood in front of him, coldly staring at him.

"My mother!"

Seeing that he remained silent and trembled like a leaf, Jiang Chengzhi suddenly seemed to grasp at a straw and shouted in a shrill voice:

"My mother is the rightful head of the Jiang family, a powerful clan!"

She knew I was here to take you. If I die here, even if you had wings, you wouldn't be able to escape the Jiang family's pursuit. Besides…” He paused:

"You also killed my cousin."

If this gets out, the Jiang family will never let you off the hook. But…” He spoke faster and faster, hoping that these last words would frighten away the menacing figure before him:

"But if you let me go today, I will go back and make sure you are safe."

Just say they were eaten by a monster!

he……

He tried desperately to escape, but the monsters he encountered were too strong, and he couldn't escape no matter how hard he ran!

Yes, yes, that's what I said!

Zhu Hong remained silent, simply gazing at the scene.

"Grandpa Zhu, Hero Zhu!"

This act only terrified Jiang Chengzhi more. "Please, spare my life!" His face turned deathly pale. Knowing his end was near, he frantically begged for mercy: "Whatever you want, I'll give you! Silver, cultivation techniques, precious medicines—just say the word, and I'll have my mother send it all!"

As he spoke, tears streamed down his face, covering his entire face.

"Eh~"

Zhu Hong quietly observed his disgraceful behavior, then suddenly let out a soft sigh.

This sigh delighted Jiang Chengzhi, who mistakenly believed that Zhu Hong had taken pity on him and was going to let him go.

But Zhu Hong's first words terrified him.

"You talk too much."

Zhu Hong's voice was frighteningly calm: "The more you say, the faster you'll die."

Jiang Chengzhi froze.

"You just said that the Jiang family won't let me go."

Zhu Hong still looked down at him condescendingly and said coldly, "Have you ever considered that if I dared to kill Jiang Heling, would I care about killing one more like you?"

Jiang Chengzhi's pupils shrank suddenly, and his mouth opened and closed, but he couldn't utter a single word.

"We'll see..."

Zhu Hong smiled faintly: "So what if it's the entire Jiang family? I don't have as much time as you do."

Jiang Chengzhi was destined not to understand these words.

But he knew he was definitely finished, yet his inherent will to live prevented him from standing firm. "Grandpa Zhu, I kowtow to you!" He completely broke down, collapsing to the ground, his head slamming against the floor with a loud thud.

"To be a beast of burden, to be a slave for life."

I'm willing to do anything, I'm willing to do anything!

Zhu Hong smiled slightly, but only lowered his head to touch his knife.

"Zheng—"

With a dragon's roar, autumn waters suddenly surged forth.

Before Jiang Chengzhi could even see the blade clearly, he saw his own reflection. The blade cast a shadow of himself, disheveled and unkempt, his eyes unfocused—a far cry from his former glory.

He stared blankly, suddenly realizing that he was about to die.

In an instant.

All his youthful vigor was shattered into dust in the flash of the blade.

His legs went weak, and he slowly collapsed, as if his spine had been ripped out, unable to support his body any longer.

"After going down,"

Zhu Hong's voice was very soft, "Kowtowing to that King Yama a few more times, begging him to be reborn as an animal—" Before he could finish speaking, the blade was already raised: "I'll let you be reborn as an animal."

"That's where you belong!"

Start.

The knife fell.

"Pfft."

Heads fell to the ground.

His emaciated body swayed twice before collapsing to the ground.

blood.

It stained the frozen soil beneath them red.

"call……"

The glint of the blade faded, and Zhu Hong sheathed his sword, his gaze sweeping over the corpses scattered on the ground.

The team is divided into three groups of eight or nine people.

They're all dead.

He confirmed there were no survivors before bending down and placing his hand on Jiang Chengzhi's still-warm body. A warm current instantly arose, replenishing some of the energy and blood depleted in the fierce battle, but it was far less powerful and surging than before, and even his strength did not increase in the slightest.

"Um?"

Zhu Hong closed his eyes and gazed intently at the spiritual platform.

When he opened his eyes again, his brows were slightly furrowed.

The "Scripture of the Dead" deep within his mind was now utterly desolate, devoid even of the words that should have shone with light and shadow.

"What's going on?"

Zhu Hong had some doubts in his mind, so he turned around and rushed to the side of the nearest martial arts school disciple, bending down and reaching out his hand again.

After a while, he slowly loosened his fingers and stood up.

The result remained the same; the blood and qi had recovered slightly and were slowly circulating, but the strength that should have increased seemed to have vanished without a trace.

That's strange.

Zhu Hong frowned even more deeply, then walked back and forth among the remaining corpses lying haphazardly. After examining the last one, he stopped and fell into deep thought.

This situation occurs when one breaks through to the Lesser Completion stage of the Body Refinement Realm.

It was after Jiang Heling.

Is it...

A glint of light flashed in Zhu Hong's eyes, and he suddenly realized: "As one's own cultivation level advances, one can only devour whales and drink from the abyss, rushing upwards to obtain the path?"

He guessed in his heart:

The "Scripture of the Dead" refines the physical body by plundering blood and qi, so it shouldn't be endless. You can't just kill some cats and dogs to accumulate enough to increase your cultivation level.

It can borrow strength from the dead.

but:

If one tries to take from both downwards, it can only replenish some of the energy that has already been depleted.

Only those of similar origin and comparable cultivation level can plunder the pure essence of blood and qi to temper their muscles and bones. Of course, those of higher cultivation level will benefit even more and progress even faster.

Mind this.

Zhu Hong's findings are largely confirmed.

"What a pity."

Zhu Hong glanced at the corpses of Jiang Chengzhi and the other newly trained martial arts students, and shook his head slightly. "They couldn't win by sheer numbers."

That's utter garbage.

Forget it.

He suppressed his racing thoughts and reached out to touch the waists of those men.

When a person dies, their life force is gone, but things like silver and pills won't go to the grave with their owner. Zhu Hong thought to himself, but his hands didn't stop; he searched the people inside and out.

A moment later, he straightened up and shook his head repeatedly.

"Most of them are poor, penniless men."

There were only two people with mustard seed sacs.

One is Jiang Chengzhi, and the other is Jiang Heling.

That wild bull Zhao Biao didn't even have a decent pouch. It's unclear whether the martial arts school was too poor or he was simply disliked. Without a pouch, a person can't get much profit out of them.

but……

When he opened Jiang Heling's brocade pouch, his brows finally relaxed.

Five ingots of pure gold and three stones, each the size of a thumb, were orange-red like the first rays of sunset, with a faint aura of yang energy circulating within them.

"This stone..."

Zhu Hong picked up a piece; it was warm to the touch. He paused, then suddenly remembered something: "Is it a Yang Yuan Stone?"

This is an even better product than pure gold.

When it comes to trading with cultivators, buying and selling items like mustard seed pouches, talismans, and one-time-use magic arrays, they don't like to accept pure gold or silver. If you bring silver, they might not even give you a second glance. But if you bring Yang Yuan Stones, even the most reserved cultivator will put down their airs and speak to you politely.

Without him.

This stone itself is a form of spiritual practice.

Zhu Hong recalled a passage he had once found in a notebook:

Yangyuan stone is not a natural mineral.

Legend has it that in ancient times, a supreme Yang God, after his death, used his essence and blood to nourish the heavens and earth, seeping into the yellow soil and entangled with the earth's energy for millions of years, thus condensing into this stone marrow essence. The wisp of Yang energy within the stone is extremely pure and intense, a cultivation resource for nourishing the soul and strengthening one's thoughts.

Those who cultivate their spirit and soul can use that wisp of yang energy to refine their thoughts.

Of course, those are all myths and legends, and no one has ever taken them seriously, but it is true that Yang Yuan Stone can help with cultivation.

"What a pity."

Zhu Hong weighed the stone in his hand, then suddenly smiled. "If martial artists could also use Yang Yuan Stones for cultivation, that would be wonderful." The thought only lingered in his mind before he suppressed it.

Martial artists and soul cultivators follow vastly different paths.

Humans cannot be controlled.

He stuffed the stones into his bag, bent down, dragged up several corpses, and threw the haphazardly laid bodies into a bottomless miasma crevice not far away, destroying the evidence.

To avoid being discovered by other people who come to the Rift Valley to hunt monsters.

If we can delay it for a while, then we will.

"It's time to continue cultivating merit points."

Zhu Hong glanced back at the miasma-filled ravine, then turned around, gathered his strength, and leaped into the forest.

The rustling of branches and leaves could be heard, but in an instant, they vanished.

……