EHRPS CH211

Lianlu Peak, Blood Bone Cave.

The sky was eerily grim, bizarrely dark.

Lianlu Peak was not a mountain peak but a vast, boundless expanse of forest and plains. However, the vegetation had entirely withered, leaving only rugged, dead trees standing among steep rocks. They looked like charred corpses, exceedingly sinister.

In the center sat a stone palace, shaped like a skull, its demonic qi billowing to the heavens.

This was precisely the Blood Bone Cave.

—And the residence of Demon Lord Ming Xiu.

Decades ago, this man named ‘Ming Xiu’ appeared out of nowhere. No one knew where he sprang from. They only knew his cultivation was unfathomable. He made no attempt to conceal his fierce, malevolent aura. Upon appearing, he immediately annihilated a demonic sect.

In the decades that followed, he waged ceaseless war, leveling all factions within the demonic path. He brought a multitude of demonic cultivators under his command, establishing himself as the master of the demonic path in one fell swoop. He founded a sect named the Heaven Slaughtering Sect and bestowed upon himself the title ‘Evil Bone Demon Lord’.

Everyone in the entire cultivation world knew his name.

The righteous sects feared that this man was wildly ambitious and would lead his demonic cultivators in an invasion, provoking a new round of the Immortal-Demon War. They couldn’t help but feel anxious.

If the demonic cultivators of the Heaven Slaughtering Sect heard this, they would definitely sneer and gnash their teeth, “Hehe, you’re thinking too much.”

…Busy farming, who has time to attack the righteous path?!

What Demon Lord? Bah! This man is simply a devil!

He waged war for decades, unifying the demonic path. Could it be just so he could make all the demonic cultivators grow vegetables and produce grain for him in this godforsaken place?! It wasn’t like he needed to eat mortal food!

Farming is farming, but he didn’t even allow them to use magic to help the crops grow! From sowing to harvesting, they had to do it all by hand!

If anyone disobeyed, or complied in public but opposed in private… Their corpses were currently hanging from the branches of the dead trees.

It wasn’t that no one had thought of escaping, but the Demon Lord’s methods were superb, and he possessed a bizarre demonic weapon capable of refining all things in the world, including this land. No one could escape this piece of land.

At first, a group of demonic cultivators refused to accept their fate, secretly uniting. They tried every method under the sun and earth, but this godforsaken place seemed covered by something invisible, leaving no way out.

Some with violent tempers resolved to join forces and besiege the culprit who trapped them all. But the other simply slapped them to the ground with one palm, blood splattering three feet. And that person merely snorted coldly, “Oh, so you don’t want to farm? This Venerable will fulfill your wish. Becoming fertilizer is also a meritorious deed!”

After a few rounds of this, the crowd gave up all thoughts of resistance. Just farming—how hard can farming be?

…It’s really hard.

Every grain of soil on Lianlu Peak was steeped in demonic breath. Living beings struggled to survive; only demonic cultivators felt like fish in water. But that man was incredibly overbearing, bullying and oppressing them in every way. He even used his Heavenly Eye to monitor them constantly, watching out for anyone slacking off. He was pushing them too far!

The crowd stood in the fields filled with righteous indignation. Their movements while planting seedlings were crisp and decisive, as resolute as taking a person’s head.

Some female demonic cultivators couldn’t bear the hardship and tried to use charm arts to seduce the Demon Lord, hoping for special treatment. Unexpectedly, the man’s heart was like iron. In his eyes, there were no beauties, only dry bones. He merely cast a cold glance at the female demonic cultivator posing enchantingly for him and asked, “Are you tired of living too?”

Terrified, the female demonic cultivator froze, her expression fearful.

The demonic cultivators suffered unspeakably, hoping the righteous sects would quickly eradicate this demonic star, restore their freedom, and spare them this imprisonment.

To this day, several years had passed.

At this very moment. Outside the Blood Bone Cave, the weather was gloomy. Inside the cave, the atmosphere was also gloomy.

A tall, black-clad man sat at the head seat, propping his face up with one hand. His posture was leisurely to the extreme. Below him knelt a group of demonic cultivators, reporting with fear and trepidation, “Subordinate Xuan Tian produced three hundred and ten catties of grain!”

Hearing this, a flash of secret delight passed through another person’s eyes. He quickly reported a larger number, “Reporting to the Venerable, Subordinate Gu Yimo’s yield was slightly higher, a full…”

The others followed suit, reporting their numbers in turn. Those with high numbers spoke loudly; those with low numbers lowered their eyes submissively, terrified of angering this absolute overlord.

Tap, tap, tap.

After everyone finished speaking, the hall was silent. Only the sound of fingers tapping on the tabletop came from the head seat, one after another, like a sharp guillotine swinging beside everyone’s necks, causing cold sweat to pour down.

The next instant. The crowd heard a deep voice ring out in the hall, “Good, very good.”

“You are all excellent material for farming. My painstaking efforts in cultivating you and helping you be reborn have not been in vain.”

For some reason, everyone actually heard the sound of gnashing teeth. Their hearts rose even higher, and they hastily kowtowed to express their loyalty, “Venerable, please quell your anger! Sub… Subordinate will definitely grow more grain next year to make the Venerable look upon us with new eyes!”

“Exactly, Subordinate has Wood spiritual roots; I am stronger than him!”

Just as everyone was talking over each other to express their loyalty, simultaneously taking the opportunity to secretly badmouth the others, the man’s air pressure dropped lower and lower. Finally, he snorted coldly, flicked his sleeve, and left. “Since you all vow so confidently, if anyone fails to achieve it when the time comes, this Venerable will use them to fertilize the fields.”

As soon as his voice fell. The sound of fading footsteps echoed in the hall.

A few bold demonic cultivators secretly raised their heads, only catching a glimpse of the man’s departing back. His black robes fluttered wildly behind him, his imposing aura extraordinary.

When the man’s figure completely vanished, everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief. Unable to help themselves, their bodies slumped. They exchanged a few glances, words hidden in their eyes.

‘The weather is so gloomy; who provoked this demon?’ ‘Don’t know, just hope it doesn’t rain later, otherwise all my hard work in the fields will be for nothing.’

It was strange to say. Since Lianlu Peak was refined by the Demon Lord, even the weather was intimately tied to him: if he was in a bad mood, the weather outside would be gloomy; if he was angry, there would be lightning and thunder…

As the group exited the stone palace, they heard a massive crack from the sky. A bolt of lightning pierced the dark clouds, flashing so brightly it hurt the eyes and made livers tremble.

The group looked at each other in dismay, then sprinted wildly back to their fields. They didn’t dare slack off or act sly, terrified they would be the next to die. “…”

Ming Xiu left the main hall and walked all the way deep into the cave dwelling. The dim corridor was very quiet. He descended the steps leading to the underground palace, walking step by step deep underground.

The faint firelight on the stone walls trembled as it brushed past his face, not daring to linger.

Before long. Ming Xiu stood before a tightly closed door.

His posture was upright, one hand clasped behind his back. His other hand slowly raised, seeming as if he wanted to push the door open and enter. But when the pad of his finger touched the door leaf, a hint of hesitation flashed across the man’s face. Between his fierce brows and eyes, a trace of exceedingly rare helplessness actually showed.

After another moment. Ming Xiu pushed the door open.

This secret underground space was very dim, the air somewhat humid, carrying an inexplicable faint fragrance. He waved his hand, and the space abruptly brightened.

The underground palace space was enormous. The crystal walls lit up, resembling a cerulean sea with fractured light sparkling within. The very center area was actually a cultivation field enclosed by hanging vines.

But unlike an ordinary field—this secret space was filled with ten-thousand-year-old spiritual wood, upon which clung large and small Flesh Ganodermas. Their dark red mushroom caps expanded and contracted, as if breathing.

Ming Xiu took a deep breath, stepped forward, and walked inside with a straight face.

However, as he approached, the lump of Flesh Ganoderma closest to him convulsed violently. Its cap first let out a sizzle and emitted black smoke. Then, the vein-like patterns beneath its skin rapidly shriveled. Finally, the entire mushroom shrank with a pop into a dried mushroom, like a punctured fish bladder.

Ming Xiu: “…” His footsteps paused slightly, and he continued walking forward expressionlessly.

He hadn’t taken a few steps before he saw the Flesh Ganodermas on the mushroom racks on both sides shrink back in unison into the corners of the walls. They didn’t forget to tightly wrap themselves in translucent mycelium, attempting to escape the corruption of the demonic qi.

Just at that moment. A plump, round purple Ganoderma couldn’t dodge in time and tried to play dead. As a result, its gills curled up from being smoked by the demonic qi, and large drops of mucus seeped from its cap, like teardrops.

Ming Xiu snorted and walked around it.

He walked deeper, his expression still cold and stern, yet a hint of expectation surfaced in his eyes. Deep within this special field grew the Flesh Ganoderma he favored most. Perhaps it could resist his demonic qi and grow strong and sturdy.

The next instant. He heard a crash.

The three-tier mushroom rack in front of Ming Xiu collapsed abruptly. Flesh Ganodermas of various shapes scattered all over the floor, simultaneously exhibiting a dehydrated, shriveled death state. Wrinkled patterns resembling masks of agony even appeared on their caps.

Ming Xiu was already used to it— Used to the sight of these mushrooms suffering sudden death the moment they saw him.

The entire cultivation world proclaimed that Flesh Ganodermas were the spiritual plants with the most tenacious vitality. The older they were, the harder they were to find, and their efficacy was unsurpassed, even capable of reviving the dead and growing flesh on bones. Ming Xiu didn’t care about their efficacy; he only valued their characteristic: they could live.

What Lianlu Peak lacked was living creatures. Except for demonic cultivators.

Ming Xiu kept a straight face, quickened his pace, and finally saw the Flesh Ganoderma he had placed high hopes on, the one encountered once in four thousand years. Plump, fresh, and brimming with vitality.

However, the next instant. The Flesh Ganoderma seemed to catch sight of its kin’s tragic state. It trembled sympathetically twice. Then, its chubby mushroom cap fell to the ground with a splat, rolling to the man’s feet like a severed head.

Ming Xiu: “…” Fake, it’s all fake! Live my ass! They just die one faster than the other!

So what if my cultivation advanced a bit more recently?!

Ming Xiu was heartbroken, yet his face was cold and detached. The upward curve at the corners of his eyes held not a trace of warmth, looking exceptionally cold-blooded and ruthless. His tone was the same, “Useless trash!”

“I wasted heavenly materials and earthly treasures watering and feeding you. Truly rotten mushrooms that can’t support the wall!”

A long while later. Ming Xiu sat at the crystal table in the underground palace. He took a sip of the steaming, fragrant mushroom soup, and the gloom in his heart dissipated by half.

He had already figured it out. —The strong are always mush-lonely.

Ming Xiu suddenly tilted his head back, drinking down the sweet and delicious mushroom soup in one gulp, as if drinking strong liquor. He swallowed the bitterness in his heart as well.

His gaze was bone-chillingly cold, his surrounding aura extremely strong. He looked entirely like a Heavenly Demon, his voice hoarse, “Why can they farm, but only this Venerable cannot!”

“Truly detestable. I’ll just have their yield doubled next year. This Venerable is not jealous, but simply places high expectations on the subordinates in the sect.”

As soon as his voice fell. From the corner of his eye, Ming Xiu suddenly caught a glimpse of two thumb-sized little bumps poking out from the dirt pile in the corner. Looking closely, they were actually two tiny, cute Flesh Ganodermas.

Ming Xiu: “?!” He simply couldn’t believe his eyes.

When he leaned close, squatted down, and carefully brushed away the surface dirt, Ming Xiu was finally certain— They truly were newborn Flesh Ganodermas.

One was white, its shape slender and tall, with mycelium hanging and swaying beneath the cap. It looked ethereal and immortal, truly a peerless beauty among mushrooms, evoking feelings of tender affection. He couldn’t look away.

Ming Xiu forced himself to withdraw his gaze and quickly glanced at the other one. It was black, the outer rim of its cap tinged with dark red, and its shape was squat and chubby. At first glance, it wasn’t a proper, decent mushroom. Its appearance was truly worrisome.

Forget it, as long as it looks like a mushroom, it’s fine. Just as scumbags often appear among humans, there are crooked melons and split dates among mushrooms too. Ming Xiu had understood this principle very early on.

What comforted him the most was that these two newborn mushrooms didn’t fear the corruption of his demonic qi. It was truly an unexpected delight.

“Good, you are very promising.” Ming Xiu praised repeatedly. He pulled out two jade pots, transplanted them separately, and nodded in satisfaction, “It must be that under this Venerable’s accumulated efforts, a new variety has been bred.”

“As expected of me.”

He carefully watered them with a few drops of spiritual spring water, admired them with a smile for a long time, and finally couldn’t resist carrying them, mushrooms and pots alike, out of the underground palace and into his bedroom.

Outside the window, the dark clouds thinned by a fraction. For the demonic cultivators on Lianlu Peak, this was already top-tier good weather.

Ming Xiu stood by the window, gazing into the distance at the vivid ‘Demonic Cultivators Labor Reform Scene,’ his tone very gratified, “Truly peaceful times, a scene of thriving prosperity.”

Thousands of miles away. Hearing this far-reaching exclamation via voice transmission, everyone silently gnashed their teeth, yet dared not voice a single complaint.

Ming Xiu admired it for a moment, closed the window in satisfaction, and spoke softly to the two small potted Ganodermas he had placed on the windowsill: “On such a fine day, this Venerable will go catch a flood dragon to stretch his muscles. You two be good, do not disgrace this Venerable’s prestigious name.”

In the blink of an eye, the man used an evasion technique and left.

The room was quiet. Before long, a pop was heard.

On the windowsill, that black mushroom twisted its stalk into a braid, uprooted itself, and crawled into the neighboring jade pot, snuggling with the white mushroom, their mycelium intertwining inextricably. “…”

Meanwhile. Ming Xiu appeared in the sky above a rift valley nearly ten thousand miles away.

The rift valley was extremely deep, impervious to light, and within it lay the territory of a flood dragon. Ming Xiu stood suspended in the void. Casting his eyes downward, he looked over a thousand miles disdainfully. The human skeletons piled on the banks were visible at a glance. Most belonged to ordinary commoners. A few were cultivators’ skeletons.

He had heard this rift valley was connected to a secret realm. After taking over this place, that flood dragon’s power increased greatly. Every time it wreaked havoc outside, it would hide in the rift valley, its whereabouts secretive and hard to track.

Ming Xiu didn’t come here to eradicate demons and defend the Dao. After all, he himself was a demonic cultivator.

Mainly, he was a bit tired and didn’t want to keep his Heavenly Eye open all the time to monitor those demonic cultivators who loved to slack off and play tricks. Looking occasionally was novel, but looking every day was boring. Therefore, he needed a demonic flood dragon to act as an overseer in his stead.

If it truly couldn’t be subdued, Ming Xiu wouldn’t mind showing great kindness and delivering its soul to the afterlife—a flood dragon’s entire body was treasure anyway, so he wouldn’t lose out regardless.

Ming Xiu nodded: “This Venerable truly is thrifty and manages the household well, considering everything thoroughly.”

There was just one problem at hand. That flood dragon was hiding in the rift valley. He had to find a way to force it out, while also guarding against it escaping through the secret realm connected to the rift valley.

Fortunately, to Ming Xiu, this problem wasn’t big.

Once upon a time, he was just a young child living in an impoverished village. His mother died early from dystocia, and he depended on his father, who made a living as a butcher, for survival. They managed to find joy in their lives.

One day. He ran wild outside for most of the day. Carrying the sparrows he had caught in the mountains back to the village, he discovered the entire village had been massacred and burned. The living, breathing people from yesterday had turned into charred bones, their expressions filled with pain and terror, all looking up at the sky in unison.

Such a bizarre scene could only be the work of cultivators.

That year, Ming Xiu was only seven years old. He had no home anymore.

—This world was just like this. In the eyes of cultivators, ordinary people like them were probably no different from ants. Who would stop and pay attention because they stepped on an ant while walking by? How could ants resist this world where the weak are prey to the strong?

Later, Ming Xiu tumbled and crawled his way through life alone, growing to thirteen or fourteen. There were countless orphans like him; his fate couldn’t be considered tragic.

In the year he turned fifteen, word came that demon-practitioners were causing chaos for the imperial court, and wars broke out everywhere. Ming Xiu was conscripted and went to the front lines along with tens of thousands of others.

Training. Slaughter. Hovering between life and death. The soil was dyed dark brown with blood. Severed limbs and mangled corpses covered the ground, belonging to the enemy, or perhaps to comrades. Ming Xiu couldn’t tell the difference.

He only knew that he had fought on the battlefield for nearly ten years, rising from a lowly foot soldier to a general of a nation. Countless souls perished by his hands. With every breath, he could smell the stench of blood on his own body.

If you don’t want to die, you can only deprive others of their lives. There was no other way. The world was just like this.

Until one day, disaster struck abruptly.

It was a battle for the annihilation of a nation. The generals and soldiers of the two countries fought fiercely. War drums and orders rang incessantly, and the hum of clashing weapons was dense as rain, never stopping.

Abruptly, the sky changed color. A massive black cauldron inverted high in the sky, enveloping the entire battlefield. A yin-cold, foul-smelling blood mist poured down, sweeping over hundreds of thousands of people in an instant. Including Ming Xiu.

He saw countless numb faces, all filled with expressions of agony. Their flesh and blood melted in an instant, like ice and snow under a scorching sun… The pitch-black sky had no end.

Ming Xiu’s body was also being refined. In a daze, he seemed to see the truth of this ten-year war through a special perspective—a certain demonic cultivator had obtained this demonic weapon and needed to fill it with blood fiend qi, smelting the souls of the living…

These hundreds of thousands of people were, in the eyes of the demonic cultivator, merely materials to be consumed, perhaps no different from the flowers and grass by the roadside.

Again, that same phrase: The world is just like this. This was a principle Ming Xiu had understood since childhood.

Only, for some reason, the anger suppressed at the bottom of his heart erupted: If the world is like this, must we accept it? Mortals are indeed like ants before cultivators…But even ants have fury!

Just like the past twenty-plus years, Ming Xiu once again brushed past death. Hilariously, that demonic cultivator plotted for over ten years, only to pave the way for him.

Ming Xiu, inexplicably acknowledged as master by the demonic cauldron, not only successfully counter-killed that demonic cultivator but also advanced to the Nascent Soul stage overnight. The heavenly lightning tribulation arrived immediately, and he withstood it all head-on.

The lightning faded, and Ming Xiu stood in place with a skeletal body. He looked up at the sky. Blood mist burst forth, adhering to his dry bones, reconstructing his flesh and blood.

His life was ultimately tough.

From then on, the world lost a general named ‘Ming Xiu’, and gained a demonic cultivator of unknown origin.

After entering the Dao, Ming Xiu saw the myriad phenomena of the world. He saw demonic cultivators casually capturing people to refine pills and medicine, or enslaving and abusing them, or using evil arts to absorb people’s essence and lifespan…

Ming Xiu loathed demonic cultivators. Unfortunately, he was also a demonic cultivator.

So, he embarked on a path of conquest alone, destroying many demonic sects. Those of great evil and wickedness all died by his hands, none spared. As for those demonic cultivators whose ‘smell’ was still tolerable, Ming Xiu established a sect named the Heaven Slaughtering Sect, took them all in, and became passionate about torturing… ah no, letting them experience what it felt like to be treated as ants and manipulated at will.

—Do not do unto others what you do not want done unto yourself. He would teach them this principle that even a seven-year-old child understood.

Above the rift valley. Ming Xiu stood with both hands behind his back. The posture tempered on the battlefield was upright and robust. Endless blood mist erupted from his body, coalescing in the sky into a massive inverted cauldron.

Then, he sat cross-legged on the cauldron’s ear, his ink-colored robes flapping wildly in the fierce wind.

The next instant. He pressed his fingers together and drew them across his brow. The blood mist cascaded down from a thousand zhang high like a waterfall, pouring into the rift valley all at once, beginning to refine…

Soon, a muffled dragon roar came from deep underground. The rift valley suddenly split open from the middle. A Black Abyss Demonic Flood Dragon burst from the earth, bringing with it a shockwave of air. Its spiky, jagged tail swept past, shattering rocks. Piles of skeletons rolled into the abyss like crushed stone.

The demonic flood dragon soared into the sky, its roar deafening, “Who are you?!”

Ming Xiu chuckled softly, asking back, “Why should I answer you? Do you ask a person’s name before you eat them?”

Having said that, he flipped his palm and pressed down. The Soul-Refining Cauldron covered the demonic flood dragon from above, trapping it inside, unable to escape.

Before long. A vermilion flood dragon inner core flew out from the cauldron’s mouth, landing in Ming Xiu’s palm. Within the core, a dragon shadow tumbled, its movements frantic and helpless…

Ming Xiu stowed it in his sleeve, then pulled out a large burlap sack from within. In reality, this was a storage magical artifact capable of keeping spiritual plants fresh. It was just that, due to Ming Xiu’s personal preference, its appearance had turned into a burlap sack commonly seen in farming households.

He held the empty burlap sack, sighing with emotion, “Spring is here.”

“It’s the perfect season for foraging.”

With that, he prepared to descend deep into the rift valley to search for the entrance to the connected secret realm.

Right at this moment. The dust near the rift valley was cleaved apart by sword qi. Ming Xiu dodged in a flash. Turning his head, he saw a white-clad man arriving on the clouds. The contours of his brows and eyes were incredibly beautiful. His sash fluttered along with his sword momentum, flashing past Ming Xiu’s eyes.

In an instant, three words flashed through Ming Xiu’s mind. —What a narrow waist.

He tilted his head and asked, “Hey, you’re clearly not a demonic cultivator, so why are you attacking people without rhyme or reason?”

The white-clad man held his sword, meeting his gaze, and said calmly, “You are a man-eating flood dragon, how can I be acting without rhyme or reason?”

Ming Xiu realized it instantly. So this person had mistaken him for that flood dragon. It wasn’t exactly strange.

He was deeply fused with the demonic cauldron, and his demonic qi couldn’t be hidden even if he tried. Combined with the fact that he had just stowed the demonic flood dragon’s inner core in his sleeve, mingling demonic qi with dragon qi, it was perfectly understandable to be mistaken.

But Ming Xiu wasn’t in a hurry to explain.

He looked the man up and down, suddenly speaking up and asking, “Which righteous sect are you a cultivator from? Report your name quickly.” For some reason, righteous cultivators all liked to wear white. It was very bland and got dirty easily. Today, he changed his mind. White looked the best on the man across from him.

The man was properly attired, looking upright and beautiful. Compared to him—Ming Xiu’s collar was loose, half his chest exposed, and his slightly curled long hair was scattered over his shoulders. It was truly unbecoming.

“Guiqing Sect, Nie Wuhui.”

Hearing the man’s reply, Ming Xiu was still a bit surprised. He raised an eyebrow and said, “I didn’t expect you to have such a good temper…”

If a demonic cultivator spoke to him so arrogantly, he would definitely return one or two slaps before answering.

He changed the subject and said again, “I’ll ask you again, how old are you this year? Do you have a Dao Companion? By the way, what do you think of me?”

The white-clad man’s expression didn’t change, merely replying softly, “Cease your nonsense.”

With that, the man attacked with his sword. The tip of the sword pointed straight at Ming Xiu’s throat, but before the sword light reached his skin, it was blocked by the blood mist surrounding him.

Ming Xiu remained unhurried, continuing, “I thought with your beautiful appearance and gentle nature, your sword intent wouldn’t be so piercingly cold.”

The response he got was an even closer sword tip. The two fought for a while, exchanging blows back and forth, unable to determine who had the upper hand for the moment.

Ming Xiu still clutched that large burlap sack in his hand, truly wanting to bag the man inside.

After another moment of entanglement. The man sensed something wrong and proactively halted his attacks. After backing away, he asked, “You are not the demonic flood dragon…”

The weather was excellent. Even the dark clouds above the Heaven Slaughtering Sect had rarely dispersed. The morning light fell, warm and fuzzy.

Ming Xiu flipped his hand, and a flood dragon inner core appeared squarely in his palm. The soul of that demonic flood dragon was trapped by him inside the core, unable to easily break free.

Whoosh. Ming Xiu tossed the inner core over. Seeing the man catch it subconsciously, he chuckled softly and said,

“Heaven Slaughtering Sect, Ming Xiu. Remember it well!”

“…”