Chapter 290: Rest in Peace

Chapter 290: Rest in Peace

A subtle wisp of golden light flashed and vanished from the waist of the sword practitioner's headless corpse.

Meanwhile, a bead of slowly condensing blood formed on the glabella of the head that had tumbled somewhere else.

Chen Ping'an turned around to look at Lu Tai who was standing on a branch at the top of the tree. Lu Tai raised an eyebrow and extended a finger, gently twirling it in the air and causing a single golden thread to slowly circle around his finger. Chen Ping'an wouldn't have seen this if it weren't for his extremely powerful eyesight.

After Chen Ping'an's golden Dao robe, Golden Sweet Wine, was exposed, the small tear in the shoulder region caused by the sword expert's sword ray had already repaired itself and become flawless again.

This was an immortal relic from an Upper Five Tier immortal that the elderly golden flood dragon at the Nascent Tier had always worn, so it naturally wasn't the same as ordinary Dao robes. Even Ink Bamboo Forest, the Dao robe owned by the guest elder from Jade Tablet Sect who had traveled on Osmanthus Island, was much inferior to Golden Sweet Wine.

This Dao robe was like a stunning beauty that allowed other people to catch a fleeting glimpse of her appearance, yet quickly returned behind the screens to hide her breathtaking charm once more. And thus, the golden Dao robe on Chen Ping'an transformed back into an ordinary white robe.

The two Dry Well Talismans exploded in midair.

First and Fifteenth broke free, no longer caged by the old Daoist priest's precious talismans.

Chen Ping'an could clearly sense the seething rage of First. This was only natural, as even Fifteenth, an ordinarily docile sword, was expressing its bubbling anger through their mental connection.

Chen Ping'an had no option but to silently say in his mind, "Don't be in such a hurry; perhaps our enemies still have hidden trump cards."

First wantonly flew through the sky, leaving lingering flashes of dazzling white sword light in its wake. This was a frightening sight.

Fifteenth was clearly a little sulky as well, and the dark green flying sword slowly flew around Chen Ping'an in a puzzled manner.

First and Fifteenth were naturally top-notch bonded flying swords.

However, they weren't bonded to Chen Ping'an in any way.

The relationship between them wasn't a ruler and subject or master and servant relationship. Rather, it was as if Chen Ping'an were looking after two little children who had only just developed the ability to think. It was just that one was short-tempered while one was docile.

However, Chen Ping'an felt like this was quite good.

There was a heavy yet strange atmosphere weighing over the mountain forest.

As the backbone of the group of bandits, the sword practitioner in red had already been killed in a swift and brutal way. If it weren't for his domineering appearance as a ray of red, and if his attack on the young boy hadn't been so astonishingly elegant and intense, it was very likely that everyone would have started to suspect that the sword practitioner was nothing more than a liar from the cultivation world who deceived others to gain fame.

The snow-white eyes of the burly man who had summoned a deity gradually faded in color and returned to normal.

The burly man had been the most imposing person on the battlefield just then, yet his lips were trembling and his face was deathly white at this moment. He appeared quite pitiful as he debated whether he should say something.

He glanced at his two iron whips in the distance, yet he only dared to remain unmoving in the same spot. He didn't dare to wander over to pick them up, afraid that a flying sword would pierce through his heart in the very next moment.

There was a dark and cloudy look in the eyes of the middle-aged sword expert, with thoughts of retreat already budding in his mind.

His arms were hanging naturally by his side, and the peculiar phenomenon of azure light no longer decorated his large black sleeves.

Only the small willow-like sword that used his jade hairpin as a scabbard remained hovering above his shoulder like a most loyal guard dog protecting its owner.

Initially viewed as a hunting game not too dissimilar to an autumn outing, the trip of the bandits had now transformed into a pitiful tragedy.

Looking at the two cultivators from foreign lands, however, the combat power of the young boy was unaffected, while the beautiful young man on the tree was completely unscathed.

At this moment, a sense of fear toward immortal clans and forces from the mountains spontaneously arose in the minds of these vagrant cultivators who enjoyed renown and power in their respective regions. This sense of fear then spread and grew into terror, eventually enveloping their entire minds.

The old formation cultivator had an ashen expression. His Mountain-moving Formation was almost complete, yet that bastard sword expert had ruined everything in an instant.

He had gone for wool and come back shorn—his two prized disciples had been brutally killed. Even though the two unfortunate children weren't astonishingly talented, they were clever and obedient and were a joy to order around.

The old formation cultivator retrieved the precious beads that he had previously put back inside his sleeves, setting up many small formations that linked together to form a large defensive formation.

He was ready to defend himself.

The Qi refiner who practiced wood-element techniques remained silent the entire time.

He belonged to a category of Qi refiners who were skilled in both offense and defense, so apart from being able to move mountains and trees, raise flower demons and insects, and manipulate plant and wood spirits like soldiers on the battlefield, he was also adept at treating wounds and providing antidotes to poison. This type of cultivator was often unable to determine the outcome of a battle with their combat power, yet they were still greatly welcomed by everyone else.

If a person could pick three travel companions, they would naturally pick a sword cultivator who possessed the greatest destructive power as well as a Militarian cultivator who was close to unkillable. In terms of the last slot, they would either pick an Agrarian pharmacist, a Daoist priest from the alchemical branch, or a Qi refiner who practiced wood-element techniques. It could be said that this was the optimal group for cultivators traveling around the world.

Standing in the mountain forest, no one was willing to speak first.

Each person had their own hidden intentions.

Chen Ping'an looked down at the sword of the deceased sword practitioner that he was currently holding backward.

The blade of the sword was like a clear autumn pond, with its surface rippling after catching the scattered rays of sunshine that were peeking through the foliage.

This was definitely a good sword.

However, Chen Ping'an was unsure of how much it was worth.

The demonic cultivator was the only person who dared to make a move at this moment. His movements were sneaky, and he shifted a hand behind his back to retrieve a silver-white porcelain bottle. The bottle was a foot tall, with its opening small and its body large. Twisted faces continued to swim across the surface of the bottle, making it appear like a cruel prison that jailed people's souls.

The demonic cultivator silently recited a mantra and was just about to use the spirit tool in his hand to collect the deceased sword practitioner's soul. This was a one-in-1000-year opportunity, and his strength would rise explosively once he successfully captured the sword practitioner's soul.

The soul of a martial arts grandmaster at the peak stage of the sixth tier was extremely powerful, and it could perhaps return to the sixth tier once it was successfully refined into a yin soldier, properly nurtured, and raised near unmarked burial grounds and ancient battlefields where it could continually absorb murderous yin aura. In fact, it could potentially be tempered into a seventh tier yin entity.

At that time, would he still need to bow down to others?

No, he wouldn't. In fact, the rulers of those small nations might even need to act according to his whims.

Lu Tai immediately saw through the demonic cultivator's little tricks. "You dare to steal something under my nose?!" he fumed.

Needle Tip, the bonded flying sword that was actually gigantic in size, stabbed straight down from above the demonic cultivator's head.

The demonic cultivator hurriedly turned around and fled. At the same time, he put away his family heirloom, the silver-white porcelain bottle, as he was left with no option but to abandon his act of collecting the sword practitioner's soul.

While doing this, he used the yin entities from his black clay pot to defend against the relentless attacks from that terrifying flying sword. Regardless of how the demonic cultivator leaped and turned, however, Needle Tip still remained hot on his tail the entire time.

Chen Ping'an decided that he would find some ferry station or shop in the mountains to sell this sword.

The wisp of brilliant golden light was still tirelessly dissolving the black smoke.

This was as expected of a high-grade immortal treasure forged from the dragon whiskers of the elderly golden flood dragon.

Just two dragon whiskers were already so powerful, so just how peerlessly mighty was that fly-whisk in the hands of the Flood Dragon True Lord, that old Daoist priest from Stalactite Mountain?

Chen Ping'an pushed these thoughts out of his mind before hesitating for a moment and walking over to retrieve the sword, Deep infatuation. Afterward, he picked up a branch that was as thick as his arm and sharpened it using the sword. He then silently dug several large pits, placing the corpses of the sword practitioner in red, the burly man, and the two disciples of the formation cultivator inside. In the end, he filled the pits with dirt and tried his best to conceal all traces, lest other people coincidentally pass by and immediately notice something amiss.

Chen Ping'an sat on a branch that was very high up and patiently waited for First, Fifteenth, and Lu Tai to return.

Having carved a new scabbard for Deep Infatuation, he casually placed the sword horizontally across his knees.

The black smoke that was brimming with yin souls continued to retreat as it furiously battled against the wisp of golden light. Even though it was non-sentient, its innate fear of destruction still pushed it to fight with all its might. This was the case even though the yin entities in the black smoke were already dead.

A large cloud of churning black smoke instantly rose from the ground and attempted to flee elsewhere. It would find some other land to wreak havoc in.

At this moment, it suddenly recalled that there was a castle in the distance.

Those in the cultivation world who were unfamiliar with immortal techniques would perhaps be killed by this wanton demonic cultivator.

Chen Ping'an grabbed the sword on his knees and stood up. After looking around and confirming that there were no dangers, he funneled the true intent of his soul into his Dao robe, Golden Sweet Wine. A seemingly intangible Dao Manifestation that measured over 30 meters tall instantly materialized nearby. Its appearance was blurry, and it shone with a golden glow as it stood tall between heaven and earth.

The Dao Manifestation appeared directly on the path of the cloud of black smoke, and it easily absorbed the yin souls into its large sleeve with a quick sweep of its arm. The yin souls crackled as if falling into a pool of lightning, and it wasn't long before they completely vanished without a trace.

Chen Ping'an sat back down, with his face as pale as a sheet and his head feeling as if it were about to split apart.

Revealing Golden Sweet Wine without holding back had cost him one entire breath of True Qi. Moreover, it was seemingly very difficult to maintain this state for too long.

If he were engaged in a life-and-death battle with others, it was best that he didn't use the full power of his Dao robe carelessly unless it was absolutely necessary. After all, recklessly using this power would be equivalent to handing his head over on a silver platter if his opponents possessed unexpectedly powerful defensive abilities.

Truth be told, the feeling of venturing out with his soul and traveling around the world was an extremely mystical one.

It was as if he were standing high and peering down at the world.

Chen Ping'an extended his fingers and gently rubbed the hem of his Dao robe. It was silky smooth and cool to the touch. After battling against the bandits, and largely due to his alertness and caution the entire time, Chen Ping'an had almost exhausted all of his mental energy. As such, he couldn't help but feel a little sleepy at this moment. He leaned against the trunk of the large tree and closed his eyes to rest.

Several minutes passed, and Chen Ping'an was finally able to calm his mind and regulate his breathing.

There was a golden rope bracelet on Chen Ping'an's wrist, one which was formed from successfully forging the demon-binding chain.

It wasn't long before a brilliant ray of white and dark green returned from the distance. Like gusting wind and crackling lightning, the tails of the two flying swords dragged for dozens of meters even though they were incredibly slender and small. Thus, they were still very eye-catching as they flew over and returned inside the Sword Nurturing Gourd.

Chen Ping'an could sense their feelings as they settled down inside the Sword Nurturing Gourd.

They had most likely killed their targets without any hiccups.

Chen Ping'an finally felt at ease.

This was the first time First and Fifteenth had ventured so far away from him.

However, this also allowed Chen Ping'an to reach a conclusion. Perhaps the combat power of these vagrant cultivators couldn't rival that of immortal disciples from the mountains, but their ability to flee for their lives was genuinely top-notch.

Was he not the same?

Since there was nothing else to worry about, Chen Ping'an started to practice standing meditation in a seated position.

Carrying the sword on his back was cultivation, and wearing his Dao robe was also cultivation.

To Qi refiners, a Dao robe that had once accompanied a powerful immortal for hundreds upon thousands of years was essentially the same as a mini blessed land. It could help gather spiritual energy for its owner.

To a pure martial artist, however, such a Dao robe was naturally a rare and powerful defensive asset as well. Even so, there were still some niggling issues. That was, pure martial artists needed to resist the spiritual energy that continually funneled toward the Dao robe.

After all, setting foot on the path of pure martial arts meant resolutely dispersing all of the spiritual qi in one's acupoints right from the very beginning. Only by doing so could one become pure and thus enter the path of Martial Dao.

Due to the brimming spiritual energy in Stalactite Mountain, it had been quite challenging for Chen Ping'an to resist them from entering his body. After leaving the Treasure Swallowing Whale and entering the mountains, however, things had become much more relaxed and easy. This was because there existed far less spiritual energy in ordinary mountains and rivers. In fact, there was so little spiritual energy that it could almost be ignored.

Chen Ping'an waited for almost two hours before Lu Tai swaggered over from the mountain forest. He was covered in dirt as he hurried toward Chen Ping'an, yet there was fortunately no trace of blood on his body.

Moreover, he looked like someone who had reaped bountiful rewards.

Lu Tai casually retrieved the many formation flags that the old formation cultivator had abandoned as he walked toward the large tree that Chen Ping'an was sitting in, placing them inside his sleeves. At the same time, he looked up at the young boy and asked, "You sure have the heart of a Bodhisattva, don't you? Why didn't you leave their corpses there to be punished by the scorching sun, mauled by the mountain beasts, and pecked by the hunting birds? That's the ending they should deserve. Why take pity on these evildoers?"

Chen Ping'an shook his head and replied, "I'm not taking pity on them. I simply care about the principle of death being an important matter and the deceased needing a burial such that they can rest in peace."

Lu Tai shook his head, not bothering to think about this matter anymore. However, he suddenly turned around and ran to the non-existent grave mound with the strongest stench of blood. After asking Chen Ping'an for the approximate locations of where the corpses were buried, Lu Tai vowed that he would add some new dirt to their graves later.

Without waiting for Chen Ping'an to agree, Lu Tai had already launched a palm strike and caused twigs and dirt to fly into the air. He then giddily ran over and started to rummage over the corpses. In fact, he didn't even spare the corpses of the old formation cultivator's two disciples. This was extremely difficult to imagine. A beautiful young man who was so fond of wearing perfume and makeup was actually digging up graves and rummaging through corpses without any burden in his mind?

It was inevitable that Lu Tai's body became stained with blood and dirt. However, it wasn't long before he was completely cleaned and refreshed thanks to the help of the five-colored rope tied around his arm. Immortal treasures were indeed mystical and unfathomable.

Lu Tai continued to mumble to himself as he patted down the corpses, complaining, "You're a grandmaster from the cultivation world, yet you're actually so poor! Here, take a look at this. This is Ma Wanfa's pocket treasure, and it's filled with mountains of gold and silver. But what about you? You should be so ashamed of yourself that you come back to life before dying again.

"Ah... I'm not scolding you or anything, but you're genuinely very poor compared to your master. Only this stack of money is able to solve one of my urgent needs. After all, trying to gift people snowflake coins outside the mountains will only invite the shopkeepers to beat me...

"Remember to find yourselves a better master when you reincarnate, you poor mandarin ducks.[1] You shouldn't follow this kind of master even if they're slightly more powerful."

Chen Ping'an didn't disturb Lu Tai as he busily ran around.

However, he felt like the handsome young man was extremely unfamiliar at this moment.

In the end, Lu Tai reburied the corpses and clapped his hands, a satisfied smile on his face as he looked at the even ground.

"The main culprit hiding behind the scenes is already dead. Everything is fine now!" he announced.

Lu Tai walked back to the tall tree where Chen Ping'an was sitting. However, he refused to leap up no matter what, and he instead looked up and beckoned the young boy to come down, exclaiming, "It's time to share the spoils!"

1. In traditional Chinese culture, mandarin ducks are believed to be lifelong couples, unlike other species of ducks. Hence they are regarded as a symbol of conjugal affection and fidelity. ☜