Chapter 57

(All of you, Happy New Year! Please give me recommendations, collections, and support! The friends in the group have given so many rewards, I am truly grateful! I weakly ask, can you change them into evaluation votes? I also want to become a platinum work!)

The next day.

Zhenbao was concerned about the old man Ba's life and death. Early in the morning, he asked Mr. Kucha for the location of Wanmang Peak, already acknowledging the old man's identity in his heart. Mr. Kucha, who knew Zhenbao's identity, did not need to hide it. However, the mountain was high and the road long, so he advised Zhenbao to go to the Zhongkui Temple in the north of the mountain to find Ba's fellow disciples and make plans. Zhenbao, eager and unwilling to delay at the foot of the mountain, insisted on going up the mountain. Mr. Kucha, unable to persuade him, could only describe the route in detail.

Mr. Kucha, thinking of the old ties with the Wulun Sect, was also somewhat concerned about the journey ahead. He was unwilling to let an eight or nine-year-old child go up the mountain alone, but he himself had important matters to attend to and could not delay. Wanting to help, he thought that Qingmei was smart and had learned some magic, so he asked her to take Zhenbao up the mountain. Zhenbao, seeing Qingmei's beauty and the company on the journey, did not refuse, thanked Mr. Kucha, and agreed.

Before they left, Mr. Kucha reminded Zhenbao again about the dangers of the journey, telling him not to easily reveal his skills. He also bought them some dry food and new clothes, then bid them farewell.

The two walked for half a day before leaving the Wuya town. Zhenbao, who had never walked so far before, had already sore legs, but his pride kept him from admitting defeat. He dragged his body forward. Qingmei, knowing his stubbornness, pretended to be tired, and they rested for a while.

Walking and stopping, they only reached the foot of Kunlun Mountain by the first night. Seeing some houses in the distance, they went to seek shelter. The mountain people were simple and hospitable, treating the two children even better. They prepared hot soup for them to fill their stomachs and did not ask for payment the next day.

The second day, they saw no more houses or people, only occasional land temples or mountain shrines. By evening, they had to rest in the wilderness. Qingmei found some dry branches and leaves to start a fire, heated the cakes, and shared them with Zhenbao. At night, wolves howled and owls screeched, and Zhenbao showed signs of fear. Qingmei, though about the same age, acted like an adult, taking good care of Zhenbao, showing that he had been on the road for a long time.

Qingmei slept, but Zhenbao's mind was restless. He thought about the encounter with the Red Lotus Celestial Master by the Quer River and felt even more ashamed of his own weakness. The more he thought about it, the more he yearned to become stronger. He got up, sat cross-legged, and practiced the breathing and concentration techniques taught by Ba.

His mind became clear, and he gradually fell asleep. However, the meridians and energy sea in his body continued to circulate. Zhenbao himself did not know that the breathing and concentration techniques he practiced every day laid a solid foundation for his future magical studies, making his progress much faster.

After a few days of walking, the two became more familiar with each other, and their conversations increased. Zhenbao told Qingmei about his experiences in the Ghost Market, and Qingmei listened quietly. When they had free time, she taught him sign language, and in a few days, he learned most of it.

Now deep in the mountains, they relied on Qingmei's skills and did not encounter any wild animals, making the journey relatively safe. However, as children, they had unknowingly exhausted their food supplies, and with the remaining journey unknown, they became increasingly anxious.

On the road, they searched for wild fruits. They found a tree, but the fruits were sour and bitter, barely edible. They could only take a few. After two days, they were both extremely hungry and had no strength to walk.

In the afternoon, they reached a mountain ridge and saw white smoke rising from a valley. They were overjoyed and ran down the slope. Upon closer inspection, they saw three ragged men around a pot of steaming soup, adding firewood. The men looked fierce and evil, clearly bandits who had fled to the mountains and preyed on travelers. Qingmei and Zhenbao exchanged a glance and immediately turned to run.

The three men, hearing the footsteps, turned around. Seeing two children running, they were overjoyed and chased after them, shouting, "What plump and tender lambs!"

Four-legged sheep are fat and fresh, two-legged sheep are even more delicious. Once the meat is cut, it is eaten, and the heart and blood are cooked for another meal!

Eating humans has been called "mutton" since ancient times. Both Qingmei and Zhenbao had heard of this. Hearing this, they ran even faster. However, as children who had been hungry for two days, they could not run as fast as the adults. After a few steps, they were thrown to the ground and carried back under the arms of the men.

The pot was boiling with mushrooms and sweet potatoes, but there was not much.

They tied Zhenbao and Qingmei to a tree and one of the men laughed, "What good luck, to catch such plump and tender lambs." He pinched Qingmei's face, "Plump and tender, we'll cook you tonight." Another man added, "Right, we'll eat the boy tomorrow."

Zhenbao, angry and afraid, struggled and shouted, "You dare to eat people, aren't you afraid of retribution?" The man ignored him, took a dagger from his pocket, and with a swift motion, cut open Qingmei's clothes, ready to cut her. Qingmei's face turned ashen, and she could not speak, only trembling in fear.

Zhenbao, head against the tree, shouted, "What are you doing? If you want to eat, eat me, not her!" His voice echoed in the valley.

The man with the knife frowned, "Such shouting, it might attract others." He slapped Zhenbao and stuffed a piece of cloth in his mouth, "Brat, I let you live one more day, but you're so noisy—fine, I'll make you suffer first!"

He grabbed Zhenbao's arm and slashed it, and blood spurted out!

Zhenbao, in pain, convulsed, kicked, and sweated. The three men laughed, seemingly indifferent to his life, enjoying the act of harming him.

The man with the knife laughed, "This lamb's blood is so fresh, I can't waste it!" He leaned down and sucked on Zhenbao's arm, savoring it, "So fresh and smooth, come, have a taste."

The other two men joined in, each taking a large sip, and they all praised, "So fresh and smooth, it's indescribably delicious." Zhenbao's head spun, and he mustered his strength, "Don't, don't kill her... if you want to eat... eat me..."

Qingmei, staring at Zhenbao, tears streaming down her face...

The man with the knife, after drinking, said, "I've eaten mutton before, but this time the lamb is so delicious, the blood is so cold, it's even more refreshing than well water in the heat of summer—how can this person's blood be... be so cold?" His teeth chattered, unable to finish.

The faces of the three men changed!

The man with the knife, unable to finish his sentence, realized something—yes, how can a living person's blood be cold?

The forest fell silent, only the crackling of the fire and the bubbling of the water, adding to the eerie atmosphere.

Zhenbao suddenly smiled, slowly raised his arm, and sprinkled the blood, muttering, "Descend! Three Worlds, Three Samadhi! Nine Words of Arrival!—Come forth, the vengeful spirits!"

Suddenly! Suddenly!! Suddenly!!!

The blood on the ground flew up as if controlled, and countless voices echoed in the forest:

"You have three fires, I have ghost blood; ghost blood in the belly, three fires gone; a living person enters the netherworld, vengeful spirits appear; grudges and enmities, settled today—thank the ghosts for their blood, sending the evil to the netherworld, giving us the chance to avenge!"

In an instant, thick black smoke appeared, and about twenty to thirty ghosts emerged, surrounding the three men, staring at them with fierce eyes.

Some had no heads, some had no feet, some had their hearts gouged out, some had their chests ripped open, some were covered in blood, some were severely injured, some had broken bones, some had severed spines... all were victims of these three men, filled with resentment, waiting in the netherworld to avenge themselves.

The three men, having drunk the ghost blood, could see the ghosts, and they trembled in fear, their bodies stiff and numb. Suddenly, the man with the knife shouted, "What are you afraid of? We weren't afraid of them when they were alive, why be afraid now? Charge! Let's go together!"

He feinted a slash and turned to run!

The three men scattered in different directions, not caring about staying together, only wanting to escape as far as possible, hoping the ghosts would eat the two children—scattering into the forest.

The ghosts followed closely, and soon, cries of agony echoed through the forest, one louder than the last.

Zhenbao, dizzy and disoriented, struggled to free himself. Suddenly, a cold wind blew, and the ropes loosened.

A figure appeared before him, dressed in black, wearing a tall hat and wide robes, holding a mourning stick in one hand and a soul-guiding tablet in the other, staring at him coldly, "Are you a ghost?"

"What? I don't know..." Zhenbao was confused, trying to stand up.

"Then, have you met Seventh Master?"

"Who? I don't know!" Zhenbao, unsteady, went to free Qingmei. Qingmei, eyes wide with shock, gestured, "Who are you talking to?"

She couldn't see.

The black-clad ghost frowned, gesturing, "This tall, thin one, dressed like me, but in white... yes, with a long tongue that sticks out, have you seen him?"

"Oh, I've seen him." Zhenbao realized, "I saw him at the City God Temple, catching ghosts."

The black-clad ghost nodded, "That's right. I thought there was another one, it turns out it's you here," his expression seemed to solve a big problem, and he smiled, "Alright, I'll take those three evil men away."

He turned into a breeze and flew toward the three men.

Qingmei, knowing Zhenbao's identity and guessing it was Wulun Sect magic, did not ask more, only tried to tear a piece of her clothes to bandage Zhenbao's wound. To her surprise, the wound had stopped bleeding.

The wound, though not fully healed, had closed.

PS: Banxian Jun's masterpiece "All Because of the Underworld" is now available! Everyone, Banxian Jun's writing is humorous and quirky, with a twisting plot, excellent writing, and clever ideas, making it a rare, light-hearted and enjoyable work in the supernatural genre! If you're interested, go check it out, and subscribing is even better!

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