Zhang Daming and Third Uncle’s scheme was actually very simple, and to be honest, not worth much at all. When night fell and the guards were swapped out for two of Third Uncle’s men, the two of them went into the cave to carry out the routine inspection of the western Xiang prisoners of war.

The prisoners were all locked up in the cavern, each bound with Eightfold Restriction Cords, and most of them were injured. The less seriously hurt leaned weakly against the stone walls, while the badly wounded lay sprawled out in every direction. Once inside, Third Uncle’s men began handing out rice cakes and water while checking injuries. Anyone who could still eat didn’t need to be examined too closely. Their main concern was the ones lying on the ground.

After looking them over one by one, they came across a young cultivator slumped against the corner wall. He was very young, his clothes in rags, his face darkened with a sickly tinge, the clear signs of poisoning. In fact, not just him. Half the western Xiang prisoners in that cave had been struck with some kind of venom or poison techniques.

The two men walked up to him. One grabbed his hair and lifted his face, then exchanged a glance with his partner and gave a discreet nod.

There was a mole near the corner of his eye, and he looked no older than twenty. In the whole cave, he was the only one who matched the description.

One of them seized his wrist, sent a trace of true qi into him, and after a quick check, confirmed it. Fifth layer cultivation. This was the one they were after. No mistake.

They had found the right person. This was indeed Su Jing.

It was the first time Su Jing had ever suffered so badly. Not only was he poisoned, but his meridians were sealed by the Eightfold Restriction Cord. Every day he endured the torment of poison fire searing through his heart. Yet, remembering the lessons his brother-in-law had once taught him about cultivation, he forced himself to stay sharp, clinging to clarity of mind and struggling to endure the hardship. Between life and death lies true terror. And within that terror, the chance for fortune. If he could survive this, every obstacle in his cultivation would be broken through with ease.

Most importantly, there was still that spirit pill.

He had to bring it back to his brother-in-law.

After having his hair yanked and his body probed with true qi, his mind cleared a little more. He shifted his toes ever so slightly and felt the faint presence of the pill still there. Relief washed over him.

The spirit pill was hidden inside a wound on his toe, the cut scabbed over from the outside. No one would ever suspect it.

Just as he was about to ask for water, a palm suddenly struck the back of his head. His body shuddered and he slipped into unconsciousness.

The last thought in his fading mind was the name etched into his heart: “Dragon Gall Yin-Yang Pill.”

“This one's finished!” one of the Badong cultivators announced loudly.

“Take him out and bury him!” another voice called out.

The western Xiang cultivators imprisoned in the cave all turned their eyes toward the scene. Some looked curious, some pitying, some angry. Most, though, were simply numb; they no longer had the strength to feel anything at all.

Su Jing was dragged out, his head hanging limply to one side. He looked every bit like a corpse.

Third Uncle reached out to check him again, then nodded. “Dead for sure. Bury him.” He turned to Zhang Daming behind him. “Go give them a hand.”

Zhang Daming pulled a sack over Su Jing, slung him onto his shoulder, and followed the two Badong cultivators out toward the mountainside.

When they reached the checkpoint outside, Zhang Daming slipped the guard two spirit stones. The man poked his head into the sack for a cursory glance, pinched his nose, and asked, “Where are you putting him?”

“The eastern woods, pit number five,” replied Zhang Daming.

The guard waved them on. “Take him, bury him deep. Someone might come checking later. Don’t mess it up.”

Once they passed through the mountain pass and entered the dense forest, Zhang Daming came to a clearing. He looked around, then pointed to a large tree. “Gentlemen, how about we bury him here?”

The two Badong cultivators didn’t care where he was buried. They only grinned and urged, “Hurry it up!” Then they stood off to the side, arms crossed, waiting.

Zhang Daming struck the ground with his palm. The earth rippled as if snakes and insects were writhing beneath it, and in an instant a pit opened up. He tossed the sack into the hole and shoveled the dirt back over it. That was that.

He slipped two spirit stones into each of the Badong men’s hands. They smiled, returned the gesture with clasped fists, and everyone was satisfied.

Just as they were about to leave, a noise suddenly came from outside the woods. The three of them froze, and in the blink of an eye a man appeared before them.

“You’re burying someone?” he asked urgently.

It was Steward Suo from Gengsang Cave’s inner sect. He was at the peak of the Qi Refinement stage. He might not have reached the Foundation Establishment stage yet, but in combat his methods were fierce, quick, and merciless. The three felt a jolt of dread, and quickly bowed. “Steward Suo.”

Steward Suo looked at them again. “You’re burying someone?”

That couldn’t be covered up. The two men in charge of the prisoners answered, “Yes. A bandit from western Xiang… he stopped breathing.”

“Who is he?” Steward Suo pressed, “What’s his name?”

“We don’t know…”

“How old is he?”

“Well…”

“Not older than twenty?”

“We didn’t notice…”

“Dig him up!”

The two cultivators from Badong looked at each other, then turned their eyes to Zhang Daming. Steward Suo also looked at Zhang Daming, stepped closer, and barked, “Hurry up and dig!”

The two Badong cultivators stood behind Steward Suo. From their sleeves, magical tools slid partway into view as they winked at Zhang Daming.

Zhang Daming gave a nod, slapped his palm on the ground, and the soil began to churn and roll again, exposing the pit beneath.

The two cultivators from Badong froze. Their half-drawn tools slipped back into their sleeves.

Steward Suo walked over in a few steps and saw a corpse lying in the pit. The clothes were tattered, and the skin on the face had clearly shriveled, darkened, and swollen. He frowned. “How many days has he been dead? Doesn’t look like he died today.”

One of the Badong cultivators behind him said, “Two days. He was found a little late… it might also have to do with the poison in him.”

Steward Suo broke off a branch and used it to poke at the corpse’s ashen, twisted face. “What do you think. Was he under twenty?”

All three shook their heads. They agreed he was at least over thirty.

At last, Steward Suo stood up, tossed the branch aside, and ordered, “If any western Xiang bandits under twenty are sent here, report to me immediately. As for this corpse, bury it again and don’t disturb it.”

Once Steward Suo had left, the two Badong cultivators let out a long breath. They nodded to Zhang Daming and gave a cupped-hands salute before leaving.

Zhang Daming reburied the corpse. After waiting a while, he struck the ground beneath a tree with his palm. On the other side, the earth churned, dragging up a burlap sack. When about a third of it was exposed, he stopped, then slipped back to the crown of a tall tree nearby and crouched there in silence, keeping watch.

When the appointed time came, three figures stepped out of the woods. It was Liu Daoran and his two friends. Seeing them come under the tree and dig the burlap sack out of the soil, Zhang Daming knew his part of the task was done, so he quietly withdrew.

After returning, Zhang Daming went to see his third uncle and recounted everything. When he saw his uncle’s brows knit tightly together, he asked, “That Suo fellow is hard to deal with?”

Third Uncle sighed. "The bandit from western Xiang we got rid of, he must’ve had some status. Someone higher up took notice. And Suo... he’s the kind who always splits hairs. He may already be suspicious.”

Zhang Daming tensed, thought for a moment, then clenched his fist. “Let me handle it. I hear he’s at the peak of Qi Refinement? Uncle, if something happens to me…”

“Handle it, my ass!” Third Uncle snapped.

Zhang Daming bristled. “Isn’t Gengsang Cave’s specialty poison techniques? My cultivation isn’t as high as his, but if I catch him off guard, I can find a way…”

“He joined Gengsang Cave halfway through. His poison arts aren’t like theirs. He’s turned his very true qi into poison. His true qi is poison, and poison is his true qi!”

Zhang Daming froze for a moment, then said, “We can’t just let him keep digging. If he finds out the truth, we’ll all be dead!”

Third Uncle thought for a long while. “Here’s what we’ll do. News just came in that there’s going to be a great battle tonight. I’ll go find him and shake his hand a little.”

Meanwhile, Liu Xiaolou pulled Su Jing out of the burlap sack. He sent a trace of true qi through Su Jing’s meridians, and Su Jing slowly came to. Half-conscious, he saw Liu Xiaolou’s face, and with a faint, weak breath he managed a smile. “Brother-in-law… between life and death…”

“Your brother-in-law has come to take you home,” Liu Xiaolou said.

Tigerheaded Dragon yanked Su Jing over, hoisted him onto his back. “I’ll carry him! Thirteen, it’s me, your brother Tigerhead!” His family’s body-refinement technique made carrying another man feel no heavier than carrying a feather.

Liu Xiaolou and Liu Daoran guarded on either side, slipping away under the cover of night and heading toward the edge of the mountain.

After running five or six li through the mountains, they finally escaped the bounds of Fairy Maiden Mountain. Liu Daoran took his leave. “Xiaolou, I’ll head back now. When you have the chance, come find me. I’ll show you the beauty of Bazhong… For now, keep heading south for a while before you cross the river.”

Liu Xiaolou cupped his hands. “Great kindness needs no thanks. Brother Daoran, until we meet again.”