Rise of the Wang Clan: Starting with a Portable Farm

Chapter 187: Grave Soil

“Be careful. Stay together. It would be bad if Qingyuan disciples, carried away by the killing, mistook us for enemies,” Wang Hao said.

He could not help suspecting the worst of the Qingyuan Sect; they might well be capable of such a thing.

“Agreed,” Qian Jiatao said. He had seen Wang Hao fight and felt much safer beside him.

They intercepted lone enemies or pairs of Foundation Establishment cultivators, avoiding groups of three to five. That promised gains without needless risk.

There were four Foundation Establishment cultivators in Wang Hao’s party. With Wang Hao no longer hiding his strength, most opponents lasted fewer than three exchanges and none escaped once caught.

Some fell immediately. The fleeing cultivators were panicked and had little will to fight.

Many carried goods worth ten or twenty thousand Spirit Stones.

Some, of course, had almost none.

“Bah, what bad luck!” Qian Jiatao kicked a corpse.

The slightly plump cultivator had carried five Storage Bags. They contained only a few magical artifacts and several bottles of pills for restoring Qi or treating wounds.

“He brought so many empty bags because he planned to plunder Qingyuan. Instead, he died here first,” Qian Jiatao said.

“Let it go, Fellow Daoist Qian,” Wang Longyou said. “He’s already dead. We killed him, but we had no personal grudge and aren’t demonic cultivators. There’s no need to disturb him now.”

“What’s a kick compared with this?” Qian Jiatao gave the body one more kick. Then he lowered his voice. “I spoke with some Qingyuan disciples earlier. Can you guess what they plan to do with these Burning Heaven Sect corpses?”

Wang Hao shook his head. “Just tell us. I can’t imagine.”

“They say they’ll strip off the sinews and skin, make white memorial banners, then burn the rest to ash for the grave soil of their two fallen Golden Core cultivators.”

“What?”

Wang Hao was stunned and felt goosebumps rise all over him.

“You don’t believe me? I didn’t at first either.” Qian Jiatao pointed to the Qingyuan disciples in the distance. “Look how cruelly they’re acting. Would it be so strange?”

Wang Hao believed the sect might desecrate its enemies’ bodies. But who had come up with using them as grave soil?

Was that meant to torment the enemy, or their own two dead ancestors?

Wouldn’t visiting their graves feel unnerving?

“Forget it. If you don’t believe me, pretend I never said anything. I wouldn’t want Qingyuan to hear I told you.”

“Don’t worry. None of us will spread it,” Wang Longyou promised.

The four kept going, but took care to stay farther from Qingyuan’s disciples. What Qian Jiatao had said unsettled them.

Half an hour later, the sounds of fighting died away and the mountain grew quiet.

Evening sunlight fell on Qingyuan Mountain.

Bloodied bodies, pits from spells and fallen trees showed the cost of the battle.

Walking along the bloodstained road, Wang Hao sighed. Many of the dead were young. Several female cultivators had the looks of stars from his former life—but that was beside the point.

They had sought the Great Dao and died in a feud instead.

“Some enemies are still at large. Should we pursue them?” Qian Jiatao asked eagerly.

Wang Hao was tired and had no interest in the few Spirit Stones they might carry. “Anyone who escaped the encirclement has some ability. Let’s leave it. We’ve already gained plenty.”

“We’ve fought long enough and need to replenish our spiritual power. Let’s stop, Fellow Daoist Qian,” Li Derong said.

Qian Jiatao smiled. “I was only asking. If neither of you wants to go, let’s find Qingyuan’s steward. They may pay well for these Burning Heaven Sect corpses.”

So that was why he had been collecting them.

The thought of grave soil made Wang Hao shudder.

He opened his mouth, then said nothing. They had killed the men already; it would be hypocritical to protest over what happened afterward.

On the way to the mountain gate, they passed bodies whose Storage Bags and artifacts had been taken. Their clothing showed they were not from either invading sect. Perhaps their relatives would come to collect them in a few days.

When the four found bodies no one had searched, they too took the artifacts and bags. If Qingyuan later gathered the belongings to return to their families, the four could hand them back then.

“Isn’t that Zhao Gaofang? How did he die here?” Li Derong said in shock.

Wang Hao looked over, his expression troubled.

Zhao Gaofang was dead.

They had fought together several times. Zhao Gaofang had fought well during the beast calamity, but that was not enough to make him stand out on this battlefield. He had died without notice.

“Let’s take him with us and return him to the Zhao family in a few days,” Wang Longyou said.

He glanced apologetically at Qian Jiatao. “Fellow Daoist Qian, he is the head of the Zhao family from Green Bull Market, so his artifacts and Storage Bag…”

“I understand. I am not greedy. He was a fellow cultivator from your market; of course we should help.” Qian Jiatao handed back the bag he had just taken.

They found several more clan cultivators they knew and collected their bodies. As familiar faces among the dead mounted, conversation faded.

Those on the outskirts at least still had bodies to recover. Many Qingyuan disciples caught in the Golden Core clash had left none.

They arrived at the foot of Qingyuan Mountain.

The crowd there consisted mostly of independent and clan cultivators, with only a few Qingyuan disciples receiving them.

“What are you here for?” asked a female Qingyuan cultivator dressed in white.

“We came to support the sect with Elder He,” Qian Jiatao answered. “These three are from Green Bull Market. I’m Qian Jiatao, head of the Qian family from Half-Moon Market.”

“Senior Brother He? Where is he?” she asked.

“A Burning Heaven Sect Golden Core cultivator hit the front of our flying boat. Elder He and several others…”

“Senior Brother He!” she cried.

After a moment she looked at the four angrily.

“Then why are you alive?”

Wang Hao sensed trouble. A strong opponent did not worry him as much as someone who refused to think straight. Perhaps she had feelings for Elder He.

“We were at the stern,” Qian Jiatao explained. “When the boat exploded, we fell to the ground. More than ten survived at first, but the Burning Heaven Sect pursued us. Only the four of us remain. Elder He’s death had nothing to do with us!”

“Only you four escaped? How can you prove it? Perhaps you have ties to the Burning Heaven Sect and they let you go!”

“No! You can’t accuse us of that!” Qian Jiatao hurriedly brought out seven or eight corpses of Burning Heaven Sect cultivators.

“We killed them, and several of your disciples saw us along the way. They can vouch for us!”

“Who knows? Perhaps you killed them to silence them after the Burning Heaven Sect withdrew!”

Wang Hao was speechless. She could certainly invent a story.