This eerie Taoist, standing motionless at the edge of the field like a scarecrow, did not move for a long time.
Several cultivators were approaching from afar, cursing something as they walked.
"These Spirit Farmers really have some nerve..."
"They’re hard to deal with."
"If this continues, our Sun Family is not going to have an easy time..."
"What does the Family Head even have in mind?"
"He seems quite wary of those few cultivators from outside..."
...
The few cultivators from outside?
Upon hearing this, the Taoist turned his head stiffly and gave them a glance.
The cultivators of the Sun Family stopped in their tracks upon noticing him, seeing that the Taoist had a weak aura, shabbily dressed in peculiar attire, they questioned:
"Who are you?"
The Taoist did not respond but let out a dull sound from his throat.
It was like an aged drum leaking air, unable to produce a clear sound.
"Is he a mute?"
"Wearing a bamboo hat and a straw raincoat, could he be one of those Spirit Farmers from East Mountain Village?"
"That can’t be right; he’s also wearing a Taoist robe inside, looks like a Taoist..."
"Some outsider?"
The several Sun Family cultivators discussed among themselves.
Meanwhile, the Taoist continued to watch them in silence.
One of the taller, thinner cultivators with a quick temper cursed:
"You poverty-stricken Taoist, what the hell are you looking at? Keep staring and I’ll gouge your eyes out..."
Before his words were finished, the Taoist suddenly pounced towards him.
The tall, thin cultivator was startled and, in a rush, threw a punch, but just one punch knocked the Taoist to the ground.
He steadied his heart and then sneered:
"And here I thought you had some skills, daring to lay hands on me with just that?"
Then he walked over and started beating and kicking the Taoist, cursing while he hit:
"What trash? Hit me?"
The Taoist struggled a few times but could not fight back.
The other Sun Family cultivators cheered from the side.
They would usually flaunt the power of the Sun Family to bully others, beating up anyone who crossed them like this.
It was both an outlet for their anger and a way to uphold the dignity of the Sun Family.
After the tall, thin cultivator finished beating him, he sneered coldly, "That’ll teach you to watch where you’re looking!"
Having said that, he kicked the Taoist and prepared to leave.
However, the Taoist stretched out his withered hand and grabbed his foot.
The tall, thin cultivator struggled to break free several times without success, growing furious, he drew his knife.
He chopped off the Taoist’s hand with one strike.
But at the severed spot, only decayed flesh was present, with not a drop of blood.
The tall, thin cultivator felt a bit disgusted and a bit chilly, and decided to take a closer look at who this Taoist was, and why he was so strange.
He took a careful look at the Taoist’s face.
At this glance, he was startled.
The Taoist’s face was ordinary, but those eyes, pitch-black and hollow, like the eyes of a dead person.
Just one look made his head swim.
Suddenly, his Sea of Consciousness churned, he felt a headache and an urge to vomit.
At the same time, it was as if something invisible, sticky, and wet, climbed onto his head, then little by little, it burrowed into his divine chamber, drilling all the way into his Sea of Consciousness.
From inside the Sea of Consciousness, there came a sucking sound.
As if something was feeding...
The tall, thin cultivator felt an even stronger sensation of nausea and dizziness.
Nevertheless, this discomfort was momentary.
In the blink of an eye, he couldn’t feel anything anymore.
With lingering pain, the tall, thin cultivator’s gaze filled with confusion.
Gradually, his pupils deepened slightly, and his eyes no longer held any doubt.
And the Taoist on the ground slowly collapsed, no longer clinging, no longer struggling, lifeless.
The other Sun Family cultivators were taken aback at the sight:
"Sun Ji, did you kill someone?"
"If he’s dead, he’s dead; it’s not like we haven’t killed before."
The thin, tall cultivator named Sun Ji spoke indifferently, his voice carrying an almost imperceptible hoarseness.
"Then it’s the usual drill."
But the Formation belonged to the Old Ancestor of the Sun Family.
If he destroyed this Formation, it would also be akin to defying the teachings of his forebear.
It would be tantamount to forgetting his roots...
Sun Yi was indecisive and his thoughts were in turmoil.
Just then, someone knocked on the door.
Sun Yi was extremely irritated and ignored it.
But the person kept knocking.
Knock... Knock... Knock...
The sound was monotonous and numb.
In Thousand Families Town, in the Sun Family, who dared to knock on his door like this?
Pressing down his anger, Sun Yi said, "Get in here!"
The door slowly opened, and Sun Ji walked in wearing a dirty, old, and slightly too small Taoist robe.
Sun Yi was taken aback when he saw it and couldn’t help but say,
"What the hell is that you’re wearing?"
Sun Ji didn’t speak.
Sun Yi frowned, sensing something was off, "What are you here for?"
Sun Ji still made no sound.
Sun Yi was about to say something more when he saw Sun Ji suddenly make a move, pulling out a waist knife and slashing at him.
But how could he, at the Qi-refining Realm, be a match for Sun Yi, who had reached the Foundation Establishment Stage?
Sun Yi caught the blade barehanded, channeling Spiritual Power, and with a twist, he warped the blade as if it were a sheet of iron, curling it up.
Then Sun Yi struck back with a palm, sending forth a surge of Spiritual Power that knocked Sun Ji away.
Sun Ji’s chest was shattered by the force of the Foundation Establishment Spiritual Power, and he slumped to the ground, spitting blood.
Sun Yi snorted coldly, stepped forward, grabbed Sun Ji by the collar, lifting him up, and said coldly,
"You ingrate, who sent you to kill me?"
Sun Ji tried to say something, but instead coughed up a gush of blood from his throat.
"Who is it that gave you such a great offer to foolishly attempt to kill me?"
Sun Yi stared into Sun Ji’s eyes and said coldly, "Speak!"
Sun Ji couldn’t speak, but the color of his eyes deepened.
His pupils dilated, the whites shrank.
Little by little, his entire eyes turned pitch black and hollow.
Sun Yi felt a violent, nauseating pain in his Sea of Consciousness, furrowing his brow tightly before it slowly eased.
He tossed Sun Ji to the ground, oblivious, and then slowly returned to his seat.
"Sun Yi" sat in the chair with a vacant look in his eyes.
Amidst the flickering candlelight, he began recalling some memories.
And he seemed to be searching for something in those memories.
"Thick Earth Formation..."
"Ultimate Formation of the Earth Sect, first grade with eleven patterns, such a fine piece to end up here..."
"Mr. Zhuang..."
"My... dear junior brother..."
"Barely breathing, looks like the wound won’t heal..."
"Ah, Old Kui is also here..."
"Took a disciple? That doesn’t seem like you."
"Bai... Bai... my sister’s child?"
"Still clinging to the past."
"What are you doing here?"
"To draw the Thick Earth Formation?"
"Meddling in affairs that are none of your business..."
"Is that all?"
"Sun Yi" muttered to himself as he pondered.
Suddenly, he paused, murmuring,
"No, this isn’t right, I’ve forgotten something..."
"It’s not that I’ve forgotten, it’s that someone doesn’t want me to know..."
"What did I forget?"
Sun Yi began scratching his head in torment, then suddenly remembered:
"There was another disciple? Another disciple?"
"How could there be another disciple?"
"Who is it?"
"Why can’t I remember?"