Chapter 54: Hundreds of Zombie Snakes?

(Previous text slightly revised: other than Gong Yang, all Hair Jiangshi had already been devoured. This does not affect the earlier plot or future reading experience. Only during the village massacre will there be a slight change due to devouring Pearl. Please rest assured and continue reading.)

(Mo Lin’s goal was simply to eat, eat, eat, eat, eat! Everything served the purpose of eating, eating, eating, eating. No need to worry about a sudden change of pace! I truly will work hard to make readers feel his decisiveness in killing without suppressing his strength, sob.)

Back in the mountains, Mo Lin, relying on his top-grade Profound-level perception, quickly found the first snake.

“Hiss～”

It was a yellow-green snake with a black marking shaped like the character “王” (King) on its head.

A trace of nostalgia flashed across Mo Lin’s serpent eyes.

This snake before him was none other than the very first snake he had encountered upon arriving in this world—the King Rat Snake.

He had not expected that upon returning again, the first snake he met would still be the King Rat Snake.

Was this not fate?

“Since I’ve met you, you’ll do nicely for the first cut.”

The King Rat Snake had a bad temper when it encountered venomous snakes, but who was Mo Lin?

He was the Profound Python who could easily subdue even the natural enemies of snakes—hawks and Secretary Birds.

Just by standing there, he had already scared the King Rat Snake into trying to flee.

Unfortunately, Mo Lin was not only massive and terrifyingly strong, his speed also far surpassed that of the King Rat Snake.

Very quickly, he clamped the snake in his jaws.

A two-meter-long King Rat Snake in Mo Lin’s mouth was no different from a rubber band caught on a human’s tooth.

“Snap～”

Mo Lin’s fangs lightly pierced the King Rat Snake’s tail, injecting his corpse poison into its body.

The King Rat Snake quickly stopped struggling.

Once controlled, the zombie King Rat Snake slithered onto the ground and moved in a certain direction.

Mo Lin simply let it go, because he needed the zombie King Rat Snake to help him find other snakes.

Very soon, Mo Lin successively captured several more non-venomous and venomous snakes.

With Mo Lin’s current body, even if he stood still, neither the Banded Krait nor the King Cobra’s venom could bring him down.

Thus, subduing them was naturally effortless.

Each snake, once subdued, slithered under Mo Lin’s command in different directions to search for more of their kind.

One found two, two found four, four found eight.

With this carpet-style search, in just two days, not only the snakes on Hong Mountain but even those on the surrounding mountains were almost completely rounded up.

Among them were even several pythons.

Looking at the hundreds of snakes, large and small, gathered around him, Mo Lin could not help but sigh:

“I think these mountains should just be renamed Snake Mountains. In such a small place, there are actually so many snakes. No wonder those people from Hongjia Village keep coming here to hunt snakes.”

The nearly thousand snakes before Mo Lin all swayed slightly in an oddly harmonious rhythm, yet their eyes were uniformly dull and lifeless.

This was naturally because they had already lost their lives.

They all obeyed Mo Lin’s command, and only because he had been careful not to pierce their bodies too much did they still give off the illusion of being alive.

Under Mo Lin’s meticulous arrangement, even an experienced snake hunter could not possibly realize that they had all already become zombies.

It could be said that the snakes that had existed for decades or even centuries around Hong Mountain had not been exterminated by snake hunters, but were instead completely wiped out by their “own kind,” Mo Lin.

Without decades of recovery, they could not be replenished.

Mo Lin’s return to Hong Mountain, not to take revenge on the snake hunters but instead to massacre the snakes on a grand scale and turn them all into “living” zombies, was certainly not some act of “repentance,” nor was it a plan to surrender to the snake hunters.

Everything he prepared was to gather the “material” for the Thousand-Soul Resentment Fire.

The hundreds of zombie snakes were merely part of his early preparations.

Mo Lin nodded in satisfaction:

“With these fellows, the hundred-plus households of Hongjia Village won’t have a single survivor.”

….

“Any household with a member entering the Bureau of Heaven Monitoring shall be exempt from taxes.”

The Grand Astrologer spoke lightly, but even so, Zixian, who had held a high position in the Bureau for many years, could not help but widen his eyes.

Tax exemption for those who entered the Bureau!

How was this any different from the dynasty’s military recruitment exemptions—waiving taxes, granting land, and giving wives?

This was clearly the Bureau of Heaven Monitoring’s version of conscription!

Zixian’s body began to tremble uncontrollably again, but this time unlike before, it was out of excitement.

He knew very well how heavy the Great Qian Dynasty’s taxes had become in recent years.

These levies had already crushed the common people to the point they could hardly breathe.

In mountainous regions like Yongzhou, many young men had risked their lives hunting snakes in order to offset a portion of their taxes.

Not a few had died for it, leaving behind shattered families.

If His Majesty were to approve the teacher’s request, surely countless families, unable to bear the crushing burden of taxes, would send their children into the Bureau of Heaven Monitoring.

This would not only allow some families to catch their breath, but also ease the Bureau’s shortage of manpower, which had forced them to watch helplessly as demons and evil spirits ran rampant.

Of course, in terms of danger, the mortality rate of Bureau members was by no means lower than that of soldiers.

After his excitement subsided, Zixian could not help but voice some concerns:

“Teacher, although this strategy benefits the Bureau of Heaven Monitoring, if it goes on for too long, I fear the family structure and livelihood of these households will become distorted.”

“Moreover, the Bureau does not engage in production. Expanding recruitment further would place a greater burden on the court, would it not?”

Zixian’s concerns were without a doubt reasonable.

And though he did not engage in politics, to be the prized disciple of the Grand Astrologer meant he was certainly no fool.

He had surely thought of similar methods beneficial to the Bureau long ago.

The difference lay in that the Grand Astrologer, in His Majesty’s eyes, carried far more weight and influence.

If Zixian himself had proposed such methods, His Majesty would not be inclined to listen—

After all, no matter how rampant the demons and evil spirits, it was not His Majesty or the capital’s officials who would die.

As for ordinary commoners, death was nothing new; how many had already perished under heavy taxes?

And if taxes were exempted for the commoners, what of the treasury? What of the court?

But his teacher had held the post of Grand Astrologer for longer than His Majesty had lived.

Since taking the position, he had always been dutiful, restraining the Bureau’s Taoists and never abusing his power.

Naturally, he had earned His Majesty’s deep trust.

If the Grand Astrologer himself spoke, even if His Majesty disliked the idea, he would still have to carefully consider it.

Facing his disciple’s worries, the Grand Astrologer replied calmly:

“In troubled times, heavy measures must be taken. The Bureau of Heaven Monitoring will not recruit as many as the army. As long as the number entering the Bureau is properly controlled, it remains within manageable limits.”

“Survive the present, and later there will still be room for adjustment.

His Majesty will understand.”

“In addition, I will inform His Majesty that members of the Bureau, beyond observing celestial phenomena and eradicating demons, will also engage in production, thereby reducing the funds we request from the court.”

Increasing manpower while reducing court expenses.

Without a doubt, this was the Grand Astrologer’s compromise in order to allow those who entered the Bureau to be exempt from taxes.

Zixian let out a breath of relief:

“In that case, His Majesty will surely approve Teacher’s suggestion.”

Only, it seemed the Bureau would have to endure some lean days ahead.

After emerging from seclusion, the Grand Astrologer resolved the Bureau’s manpower shortage in just a few words.

The topic then gradually shifted to matters of state:

“Zixian, do you still remember the matter of when I left the capital sixteen years ago?”