Chapter 3

Statements like this, Gu Xuyao had heard many times. Hunters were the most respected profession, yet they were also the least chosen.

The shop responsible for purchasing wild beast corpses was the most prominent in the market, larger even than the village chief's house. The man in charge of the corpse collection in Leishi Village was a middle-aged man with an oily bald head and a potbelly.

"Eight essence stones," he said lazily, glancing at the red lion on the ground.

This offer immediately sparked discussion among the surrounding villagers. Clearly, the potbellied middle-aged man recognized Gu Xuyao, who was the best hunter in the village. The wild beast corpses he sold were also the best, and it was inevitable that he would try to underprice Gu Xuyao.

"Fine," Gu Xuyao said nothing. Although essence stones were important to him, they were not worth arguing over with the man in front of him. Besides, such incidents had happened to him many times before.

The middle-aged man smiled slyly and took out a small bag from his chest, picking out eight translucent stones and tossing them to Gu Xuyao. The stones were not large, about the size of pebbles by the river. The middle-aged man did not intend to make it easy for Gu Xuyao; it was more like he was throwing the essence stones at his face.

However, this did not pose a challenge to Gu Xuyao. His hands moved swiftly, and with a few whistles of the wind, he easily caught the essence stones flying in the air. This feat earned a chorus of admiration from the villagers, but Gu Xuyao remained expressionless and turned to leave.

"Hmph, hold them well. If you lose them, I won't give you a second chance," the middle-aged man said, waving his hand. Four strong men came out of the shop and carried the red lion's corpse inside.

Gu Xuyao ignored the man's attitude and words. He hated such people from the bottom of his heart, people who acted powerful by relying on others' strength.

However, the middle-aged man was working for the cultivators, and Gu Xuyao was not yet in a position to provoke them.

"Big Brother Gu, that red lion was so majestic! Tell us, how did you catch it today?" As soon as Gu Xuyao put the eight essence stones in his belt, several children gathered around him, pestering him to tell a story.

Seeing their eager faces, Gu Xuyao smiled. He patted a boy's head gently and said, "Hunting stories are not that exciting. When you grow up and enter the forest yourself, that will be a story you will never forget."

"No, no, we want to hear it. Every time, Big Brother Gu's prey is the best and rarest. I remember last time you brought back a three-eyed water dragonfly, which is a very rare prey. It can swim in water and fly in the sky, and only a hunter like Big Brother Gu can catch it..."

"That's not even the best. The time Big Brother Gu brought back the venomous ants was even more impressive. I heard that the fat man in charge of the corpse collection almost had his finger corroded just by accidentally touching the venomous ant's corpse. Since then, he has been picking on Big Brother Gu..."

"And I remember one time..."

Without a doubt, Gu Xuyao was a super hero in the eyes of the village children. Cultivators were distant and unreachable, but hunters were the strongest beings they could interact with. They could hunt giant pythons and roaring brown bears. More importantly, being a hunter meant being a true man.

Surrounded by the children, Gu Xuyao returned to his residence. He promised to tell them stories the next day and sent them off reluctantly. Watching their playful backs as they left, Gu Xuyao took a deep breath.

"Children always make you feel relaxed." An old, robust man walked out of the house. Though his hair and beard were white, his demeanor exuded a bold spirit.

Gu Xuyao did not turn his head, continuing to watch the children leave, as he knew who had come. "You're the same, Uncle Zhang."

The man was Zhang the Blacksmith, who had once watched Gu Xuyao fail in the cultivator selection. Now, he was Gu Xuyao's most trusted relative.

"Ha ha ha, you're getting better at arguing. Come, it's dinner time. Guess what Aunt Zhang made for you today?" Zhang the Blacksmith laughed heartily, patting Gu Xuyao's broad back heavily. The two entered the house together. No matter how many children were discouraged by the cultivator selection, the smoke from the houses still rose gently, and the lives of cultivators and ordinary people remained unaffected by each other.

After dinner, Gu Xuyao returned to his room.

Zhang the Blacksmith had saved a lot of essence stones in his early years. Hunters were always the wealthiest, and this money was enough to let him live comfortably in a large house for the rest of his life. However, Gu Xuyao knew that Zhang the Blacksmith had not worked so hard to live comfortably in the village.

"Eight essence stones, today's harvest..." Gu Xuyao threw the eight white-glowing stones on the table. Under the dim candlelight, the essence stones looked particularly eerie.

"I have to go out..." Looking at the essence stones on the table, Gu Xuyao clenched his fists.

The Red Mud District was surrounded by high walls, which were formed by the cultivators' magical power. These walls had essence energy, and any object that touched them would suffer a fatal blow. There was only one exit, and no other way out. They protected ordinary people from attacks by wild beasts, but also confined them like pets in a closed space.

Of course, to ensure the normal operation of the human society, the cultivators could not completely deprive them of freedom. In fact, the cultivators did not care to do so. Under the condition of controlling the human society and the supply of essence stones, the cultivators hoped that humans would develop more naturally.

As for the way to leave, it was simple: either be selected by the cultivators and taken directly to a sect for cultivation, or pay three thousand essence stones.

A long time ago, when the ancestors of ordinary people entered the areas specifically designed for them, they made an agreement with the cultivators. Over the years, although the small details were often modified, the main points remained unchanged, and the most important of all was the essence stones.

Essence energy was the most important force in this world, and the foundation of the cultivators was essence energy. Essence stones were stones containing essence energy. The first condition the ancestors of ordinary people proposed to the cultivators was that essence stones must be used as the currency in the human areas. Otherwise, they would rather die in a place full of essence energy than be kept like livestock.

"Originally, they could have used food as currency to make the people in the human areas hunt and decompose the corpses of wild beasts to obtain essence stones. But why, in front of the cultivators, who were almost defenseless, could the ancestors of ordinary people negotiate with the cultivators? What gave them the right to do so..." Gu Xuyao closed the book. The tattered pages emitted a rotten smell, but there was not a speck of dust.

The book was about the history of the cultivation world. Although much of its content was common knowledge that even children could recite, Gu Xuyao read it every day. This was his way of reinforcing his determination to leave the Red Mud District.

"Whatever the method, it was the ancestors who left us with the knowledge of cultivators and things related to essence energy. If it weren't for the essence stones and this widely spread cultivation knowledge, I think we would have degenerated into beings barely above wild animals." Zhang the Blacksmith opened the door and walked into Gu Xuyao's room, sitting opposite him.

"Uncle Zhang." Gu Xuyao looked at the man in front of him, his eyes softening.

Zhang the Blacksmith had no children, which was very rare in the village. Since the age of nine, Gu Xuyao had lived with Zhang the Blacksmith, and in his heart, he had long considered Gu Xuyao his own son.

"Xuyao, you know from this book that the outside world is not really that good. Otherwise, our ancestors would not have entered this place. Perhaps we ordinary people should stay here..." Although Zhang the Blacksmith hoped that Gu Xuyao would fulfill his wish, he was still reluctant to let go of the child he had watched grow up.

Gu Xuyao also understood Zhang the Blacksmith's thoughts. He valued family ties greatly, but he had his own reasons.

"Uncle Zhang, you should remember what happened twelve years ago. I have a reason to go out..." As he spoke, the fiery passion in Gu Xuyao's eyes burned again.

Zhang the Blacksmith felt the firm resolve and nodded lightly, soon smiling again.

"I know, Xuyao. Do what you want. I was just nagging. Who hasn't had the thought of leaving when they were young? Hehe, just pretend you didn't hear what I said. Everyone should have their own dreams and things to do." With that, Zhang the Blacksmith got up and left Gu Xuyao's room. The candle continued to burn, illuminating Gu Xuyao's stone-like face.

"Dreams, huh..." Gu Xuyao smiled sadly, pulling out a yellowed piece of paper from his belt. "Dreams might only appear in the minds of those who live comfortably. I no longer have dreams, but there are things I must do..."

A night breeze blew, gently lifting Gu Xuyao's long hair, and the candle flickered. However, no matter what, it could not shake Gu Xuyao's firm resolve. By the light of the candle, it was not hard to see that the yellowed paper was written in elegant handwriting, seemingly by a woman. The content, however, was puzzling.

The night and the wind stirred Gu Xuyao's impulse to recall. He looked at the paper and read it softly.

"Willows rise in the mist over the lake, evening shadows blend into the bay, crossing the vast sea without end, the sun sets and the moon rises in a dreamlike haze." Whenever Gu Xuyao recited this poem, his voice always carried a sense of沧桑 (cang桑), a sense of weariness that should not belong to someone his age. Perhaps it was due to his strong determination, as he read it many times every night until he fell asleep.

---

The night and the wind awakened Gu Xuyao's impulse to recall. He looked at the paper and read it softly.

"Willows rise in the mist over the lake, evening shadows blend into the bay, crossing the vast sea without end, the sun sets and the moon rises in a dreamlike haze." Whenever Gu Xuyao recited this poem, his voice always carried a sense of weariness that should not belong to someone his age. Perhaps it was due to his strong determination, as he read it many times every night until he fell asleep.