Chapter 148: The Mortal World’s Shadowlands (Please Subscribe)
A portion was lost during the escape, but the quantity remained substantial.
The group spent two days counting, categorizing, and appraising the value.
“Reporting to Lord Yin,” Xu Zi presented a ledger and began a meticulous tally. “Excluding hardware, the exotic metals total 665,000 jin; medicinal herbs amount to 9,000 jin… the total value comes to 925,000 fa coins…”
As Xu Zi reported, a surge of excitement stirred within him.
For an ordinary mid-sized faction, accumulating such wealth would take at least several decades after covering various expenses.
“All right, you may return for now. Store the materials; we’ll use them after some time,” Lu Qian instructed.
He planned to add a hundred more Ox-Head and Horse-Face spirits, at two thousand fa coins a pair, roughly two hundred thousand in total.
This would bring the number of Taoist soldiers at the late Qi cultivation stage to over a hundred.
These soldiers could be sent on bounty missions; if any advanced to the Yin God stage, it would be a windfall.
Since they were expendable, their deaths did not matter.
Lu Qian employed this method of nurturing spirits like raising poisonous insects to rapidly cultivate experts at the Spirit Nourishment stage.
The next day.
Within the Black Mountain Spirit Field.
Countless demonic energies swirled, and the vapor emitted by the Sun Demon Aster obscured the sky.
A Taoist clad in black sat cross-legged, eyes gently closed, exhaling demonic qi.
Each breath seemed to stir the very heavens.
Above the dark clouds overhead, a dragon’s form rippled through the demonic mist—its head visible, tail hidden.
Cultivating both the Yin God and physical body simultaneously, they enhanced each other.
The progress bar in the mind slowly inched upward.
It wouldn’t be long before the Yellow Springs Scripture Map reached partial mastery.
Upon accumulating enough Forgetting True Water, the next step of refining the Heavenly Energy could commence.
Within the scripture map was a technique dedicated to using Forgetting Water to dissolve the stubborn nature of Heavenly Energy.
That day, Lu Qian awakened, and within his golden eyes flickered a complex, dark talisman—a rune from the Yellow Springs Yin Seal.
During cultivation, meditating while silently reciting this Yin Seal could stabilize the spirit and absorb Yin energy.
Completing the practice, he ended cultivation.
Lu Qian glanced at the time; his Yin form merged into his physical body, vanishing from sight.
At the foot of the mountain, Lu Qian rode a strange beast with glossy black scales.
The streets on either side bustled with activity.
Pedestrians flowed like a river, street vendors hawked their wares.
The aroma of roasted pig’s trotters, stinky tofu, and candied hawthorns wafted through the air.
Though primarily a city of cultivators, mortals could also eke out a livelihood.
As long as they did not offend cultivators or cross paths with evil cultivators, the cultivators would not demean themselves by troubling mortals.
Lu Qian strolled atop the beast down the street; mortals respectfully bowed their heads, and carriages gave way, wary of drawing the attention of cultivators.
From the balconies, young ladies peeked out, flaunting their delicate beauty, hoping to catch the gaze of a cultivator and ascend in status.
They arrived at a dead-end alley.
A trace of true qi was sent in.
A hole opened in the wall, revealing another bustling marketplace inside.
“Who goes there?”
A group of guards wielding black club-like weapons approached.
Lu Qian produced Ghost Seven’s token; the Ghost Market guards immediately stood at attention.
“Sir, please follow me,” the guards respectfully led the way.
Stalls sold all manner of oddities.
Corpse oil, zombies, paper offerings, live humans; Lu Qian even spotted medicinal herbs from Black Mountain.
“Haha, Mountain Lord! Long time no see.”
A pale man stepped from the black mist, faintly scented with incense.
“A small gift, please do not take offense,” Lu Qian offered a pouch made of sky-cloth.
Inside were unique Yin substances and incense candles frequently consumed by ghosts.
“No need for formalities. Come, I’ll take you to my clan’s residence.”
Ghost Seven summoned a ghostly mist, and their figures vanished within it.
Boom!
A dizzying sensation swept over Lu Qian.
When he opened his eyes, before him lay a large village.
This place was well concealed; Lu Qian surveyed the surroundings, unsure if they were still on Wànxiàng Island.
Ahead, smoke curled from chimneys; houses stretched continuously.
He counted roughly over two thousand households.
Upon entering the village, a surge of Yin energy assaulted him.
Cold and chilling, like a ghostly realm.
Whoosh!
A figure appeared before them.
“Young Master Ghost Seven, are you bringing guests?” The figure bowed respectfully; judging by his attire, his status was not low.
“Yes, take me to the Yin Land,” Ghost Seven replied coldly.
“Young Master, honored guest, please follow me.”
Guided, they entered the village.
“This is where our clan’s living members reside,” Ghost Seven explained.
Passersby bowed respectfully upon seeing them; children’s eyes shone with curiosity and envy.
Through windows, Lu Qian saw that every household had a memorial tablet.
Most bore the surnames Li, Lü, and Zhou.
Each person carried a trace of Yin energy, but unlike Ghost Seven, they were very much alive.
“They are candidates of the ghost clan, cultivating secret techniques from the age of eight. Men and women are forbidden from marrying outside; when their Yin energy matures, they use a dissection method to enter the Yin Land and become ghost cultivators.”
“If they die before becoming ghost cultivators, their souls still enter the Yin Land as ghost servants.”
Ghost Seven explained.
Many knew the origins of the ghost clan; seeing Lu Qian’s unfamiliarity, they casually shared the information.
“I see,” Lu Qian nodded in understanding.
They ascended the village hill.
More people gathered—members of other factions were present, and Lu Qian even spotted Ma Huang in the crowd.
At the hilltop stood a magnificent ancestral hall, gilded and resplendent.
Inside, over a hundred memorial tablets were arranged.
Incense smoke curled mysteriously.
Ghost Seven stepped forward and lit a purple incense stick.
The purple smoke enveloped Lu Qian, forming a protective barrier.
“Living beings entering here will be affected; only this incense can safeguard the body,” Ghost Seven said, glancing at Lu Qian.
He then approached the offering table and lit another incense.
Smoke spiraled upward as Ghost Seven softly chanted a spell.
Whoosh!
The heavens spun, the earth overturned.
Everyone inside the ancestral hall found themselves inverted—heads down, feet up.
As the chant ended, the crowd gradually acclimated to the flipped world, as if heaven and earth had returned to normal.
Lu Qian glanced around; the world seemed the same, only tinged with a dull gray.
Countless black ashes floated in the air; a gentle breath inhaled countless particles.
Ghost Seven inhaled the fragrant ash with evident pleasure.
Upon exiting the hall, the scene became lively.
The village was adorned with lanterns and banners; thousands of villagers dressed in their finery.
These were all souls, their strength varied.
Some munched on incense candles and smoked ashes.
At the village center, rows of tables were set.
Seated were some living people like Lu Qian, alongside ghostly beings of the clan.
“Fellow Daoist, please have a seat,” Ghost Seven smiled.
“Thank you,” Lu Qian accepted without hesitation.
He had inquired beforehand about this Spiritual Food Festival.
It was the ghost clan’s annual celebration; many were invited, and it posed no danger.
This was the Yin Land of the ghost clan—the place souls entered after death.
A single people divided between the Yin and Yang realms.
Suddenly!
The sky darkened.
A huge, terrifying ghostly creature blocked the heavens; with a flash, a figure appeared in the main seat.
(The story enters a new arc; there may be some narrative pauses. Today, I’m attempting a daily update of ten thousand words to fully satisfy everyone.)