Chapter 256 – Shedding One’s Shell, Moving Into The Third Gate - Part 1

The wedding of the obscure Cui Clan groom and unknown Jing Clan bride proceeded as usual. Surrounded by so many high ranking guests at the banquet, the nervous young couple scarcely dared to breathe.

Meanwhile, Li Yuan followed the Jing Clan’s patriarch ever deeper into the estate, leaving the front and rear courtyards behind. Before long, they entered the clan’s cultivation grounds.

After passing several impressive-looking spirit fields, Li Yuan felt a powerful energy radiating from the soil beneath his feet, a sensation that stirred his blood. With every step, it felt as though he had taken a bite of sixth rank demonic beast flesh.

Clearly, people living here could gain the equivalent benefits of consuming high rank meat simply by resting on these grounds; they’d never have to worry about resources and could focus entirely on cultivation.

Sensing Li Yuan’s awe, Jing Baikou smiled. “Within the third gate, there’s one fourth rank meat field, two fifth rank ones, and three of the sixth rank. My Jing Clan built its estate near one of those fifth rank fields, claiming it all for themselves.

“A channel from the fourth rank field even flows near them, which means merely breathing the air in that area can save one a fortune in demonic beast meat.

“Aside from the White Bamboo Hanging Bell Tower by the fourth rank field, which serves as the very heart of the Holy Tree Temple, this place is the best cultivation spot around. Even the Gu Clan can’t compare.”

“White Bamboo Hanging Bell Tower?” Li Yuan asked instinctively.

“Haha, that’s our Holy Tree Temple’s core, a structure suspended in perfect harmony with the local terrain, spirit wood, and meat field. If you ever get the chance, you must see it for yourself. That’s also where the temple master cultivates.” Jing Baikou paused, then added, “It’s where your son, Li Ping’an, is staying as well.”

Li Yuan gave a small nod, glancing around at the dense aura in the air. Step by step, it grew more potent. He couldn’t help but marvel.

Back in Gemhill County, even seventh rank meat was precious enough to fight over, while sixth rank meat was prohibitively expensive—eating it consistently for years would drain the coffers of most families.

Yet simply by residing on this land, the Jing Clan saved themselves astronomical costs. One could easily imagine that even those without particularly strong talent would reach seventh rank eventually, just by living here long enough.

Truly, earning a lot was nothing compared to living in the right place. Even if you made a fortune in some remote corner of the world, you couldn’t match the advantages of a single modest dwelling on these privileged lands.

Li Yuan mulled it over, recalling how he too might need such high rank meat fields if he ever wanted to expand his influence within Cloudpeak Province.

Still, high rank meat fields often meant formidable ghost domains, so there was always a cost to such bounty. It occurred to him that the emperor and the Lotus Cult were far ahead of the curve in this new world, though it was the innocent common folk who suffered in these grand power plays.

And indeed, if Cui Huayin could discern so much, surely the leaders of other great factions had long guessed as well. How would they respond? If they couldn’t beat them, would they join them? But with no access to the methods of the undying husks, that road was blocked. So then, what was their plan? Perhaps martial artists and undying husks would eventually be forced into some new co-existence.

So many thoughts flashed through Li Yuan’s mind in the space of a moment. Outwardly, he only paused briefly before bowing with an embarrassed smile. “I come from a small county in the far corners. I’ve never seen anything like this, Patriarch. Please forgive my ignorance.”

Jing Baikou answered with a cultured chuckle. “How could anyone not like a place like this?”

Li Yuan had no better reply than a soft laugh of agreement. “Indeed. What martial artist wouldn’t want to live in a setting like this?”

Grinning mysteriously, Jing Baikou pointed to a secluded compound in the distance. “Does that spot look suitable? Come, let’s head over and take a look.”

Li Yuan followed, scanning the surroundings. He saw a graceful residence perched at the edge of a field of pale white blossoms, conjuring an almost fairytale image of a cottage in the garden. Inhaling deeply, he sighed in admiration.

“What a serene and inviting place. I’m not sure what kind of spirit flowers grow here, but the cool fragrance they release at night masks the smell of the meat field. The air feels refreshing, yet it doesn’t diminish the meat field’s benefits. In fact...” He took in another breath. “It seems to amplify them.”

Deep in conversation, Li Yuan suddenly sensed something and turned his head. In the far distance, still within the third gate, a towering plume of blood-tinged energy shot skyward. It was like a halo of scarlet around the sun, making the mist and air ripple with scorching, fiery heat. His pupils narrowed at the sight.

Following his gaze, Jing Baikou looked out as well but offered no explanation. He merely said, “Master Li, let’s continue on. We still need to see the eternal demon bloom.”

Li Yuan did not press the matter. “Understood.”

Shortly thereafter, Li Yuan finally laid eyes on the

imprisoned

eternal demon bloom.

It was stored in a crystal box, flattened and drained of moisture, yet unlike typical dried specimens—brittle and yellowed with age—this blossom was still a vivid crimson. Its hue seemed to warn observers that it was very much alive, like a venomous snake temporarily sealed in ice or soaked in strong liquor, poised to strike the moment one’s guard was down.

“That’s the eternal demon bloom,” Jing Baikou said. “It looks deceptively harmless, like an ordinary flower. But if you open this crystal press holding it flat, it’ll immediately absorb the moisture in the air.”

He gestured toward its roots. “Then, it’ll sprout legs and dash off. Once it reaches any patch of soil, it’ll scatter its seeds at a rapid rate. Leave it unchecked, and before you know it, the surrounding area turns into a bloom-infested field.”

He tapped the box lightly. “See these petals? They’re incredibly sticky. If you accidentally touch them, they’ll cling to you and release a hallucinogen. If you can’t fly or don’t immediately break free with your full strength, more and more flowers will latch on. You’ll collapse amid the hallucinations, ultimately becoming fertilizer for the entire bloom sea.

“Ordinary fire won’t burn them; instead, it spreads their hallucinogenic toxins. To destroy them completely, you need specially refined beast-bone charcoal—the kind used by weaponsmiths. But who has enough of that to burn an entire field of these blooms?” Jing Baikou spoke calmly, as though telling a well-practiced story.

“How did you capture it in the first place?” Li Yuan asked, curious.

“We used poison, something potent enough to fell a sixth rank beast,” Jing Baikou replied. “Also, only the original bloom can move around; its offspring can’t. It’s still a demonic beast at heart, and not overly bright. When we poisoned it, it panicked and tried to run. That’s when I attacked from the air and caught it. If it hadn’t been so foolish, we might have paid an even steeper price.”

“I see...” Li Yuan nodded.

By now, he understood the bloom’s true value—controlling terrain. Granted, it couldn’t hold back a fifth rank martial artist, but it could separate and entangle most sixth and seventh rank foes, to say nothing of countless minions sent by the undying husks or Black Lotus Cult.

In large-scale warfare, it would be a powerful strategic asset. Block off a valley with these blooms, and weaker forces would be forced to take a massive detour.

Li Yuan looked thoughtful. “Deputy Jing, how many seeds can this bloom scatter in two hours?”

“Four,” Jing Baikou answered. “And each seed needs only two hours to sprout, bloom, and produce yet more seeds. Those seeds spread again, creating new blossoms in a perpetual cycle.”

Li Yuan did some quick mental calculations. He’d be a fool to dismiss it as just four new blooms per two hours. In perfect conditions, a single day could spawn millions of flowers. In two days, an entire region could be overrun, turning any city into a living nightmare.

“Does it have any reproduction limits?” he asked.

“It thrives in damp, shady conditions,” Jing Baikou said. “If it’s planted in dry gravel under scorching sunlight, it reproduces slowly. Judging by our findings, the original bloom is fairly dull-witted and docile. We discovered it secluded in a shadowy canyon, and it never ventured outside simply because the sun was too bright. It was that lazy.”

Li Yuan then asked, “Have you tried feeding it demonic beast flesh?”

“No.” Jing Baikou shook his head. “We feared unpredictable mutations. We’ve been waiting a long time for a sixth rank beastmaster to handle it safely.

“Master Li,” Jing Baikou continued, “our Holy Tree Temple does have a skill for taming plant-type demonic beasts. Unfortunately, it’s notoriously difficult to learn. Although we’ve groomed certain disciples to study it, they’ve only scratched the surface.

“But now that you’ve shown such talent, the temple will naturally let you see that manual. Once you’ve mastered it, this sixth rank eternal demon bloom is yours.”

As they spoke, another surge of scarlet light flared across the distance outside the Jing estate. The festive night sky was stained crimson by a ferocious, sun-bright blood aura, twisting everything in view. From afar, it looked like dozens of scarlet tentacles thrashing upward.

Beneath the moonlight, a figure descended upon the Jing Clan compound, one who seemed to overshadow the entire city stronghold just by standing there.

Moments later, more silhouettes arrived in quick succession.

Li Yuan glanced at Jing Baikou, who hurried outside with Li Yuan following. They reached the figure, which turned out to be Qing Hancheng, arms folded behind his back and standing in the courtyard. At his feet lay an unconscious woman in black robes embroidered with red.

The aura emanating from the temple master was terrifying; his once-neat hair had come loose, laced with a blazing red glow. On that normally upright face was now the domineering visage of a peerless power.

Just standing nearby made Li Yuan feel like a tiny skiff in a raging tempest.