Chapter 986

Mo Shi Xiao Gao Jie, Shan Sect.

In the dim mine tunnel, a Foundation Establishment-level cultivator named Zhu Zi, at the seventh layer of Qi Condensation, was hammering away at a second-grade purple stone ore the size of a human head.

Holding a hammer in one hand and a chisel in the other, streams of blood-colored magic power surged from his meridians, chipping away layers of gray-white ore skin.

He did not know that with every strike of his ore-chiseling tool, a trace of his lifespan and vital blood, imperceptibly small, flowed into the purple stone ore, completing a process akin to ritual refinement, maximizing the ore's inherent quality.

Zhu Zi's ore-chiseling continued for several hours.

Ding!

Accompanied by a crisp sound, a gemstone the size of a thumb emerged, faintly tinged with blood and radiating light.

This was the finished purple jade stone.

"It's out! Brother Zhu Zi finished half an hour early today."

Dozens of other human Qi Condensation cultivators were busy nearby; some wore expressions of envy.

"Brother Zhu Zi has been working for fifteen years, hasn't he?"

"Five more years, and he can go home, marry a wife, have children, take thirty-six wives, and live in boundless joy! From then on, Brother Zhu Zi will enjoy a life of ease..."

"We still have work to do; we must harvest talisman herbs. We are destined for busyness, unlike the Sect Master himself, who only rests when he dares to close his eyes..."

"What are you saying? Harvesting talisman herbs is child's play, something anyone can do easily. How can it compare to mining..."

Amidst the clanging of chisels, the surrounding Qi Condensation cultivators chatted and debated; many seemed to regain some strength through such idle talk, generating a bit more vital energy and power.

"It's still early."

Zhu Zi wore a simple, honest expression.

He carefully put away the purple jade stone, glanced warily at those around him, and began walking toward the sect's main hall.

Internal clan fighting is strictly forbidden within the sect; violators are executed, so few dare to steal others' ores.

Yet, even if rare, such incidents do occur.

Zhu Zi had heard of someone attempting theft; the thief was punished, but the miner died as well, truly a tragic tale.

Zhu Zi passed through various mine tunnels, reached the tunnel exit, and walked past some spirit fields and spirit herb gardens.

Along the way, he encountered many cultivators, male and female, some of whom were descendants of elders.

But everyone was the same: all were laboring. Some tended spirit herbs, others handled spirit fish, some turned the soil; passersby hurried to and fro, with not a single person idle.

'Being a descendant of a Foundation Establishment elder is so good...'

Zhu Zi glanced enviously at the spirit farmers tending herbs in the spirit herb garden; seeing them look back, he quickly lowered his head.

These spirit farmers were far better off than us miners.

Most miners will die completely before reaching forty.

Only a very few with extraordinary talent survive, marry, and have children.

He had been one of them; his body grew weak, his mind hazy, and he thought he was about to die.

Fortunately, he endured it in the end.

These descendants of Foundation Establishment elders are different; not only do they not have to stay in the mine tunnels day after day, living under the sun with light work, but everyone can live at least to sixty, with some even exceeding that age.

Compared to them, miners are like heaven and earth.

Zhu Zi wound his way through twists and turns, finally arriving at the sect's main hall.

Called the sect's main hall, it was actually a half-mountain cave grotto converted from a mine tunnel; the blue stone was smoothed flat, adorned with some worthless night-shining pearls.

Such a standard, in the Northern Plains, would likely be deemed unworthy even by Wu Lin sects for their Ancestral Master Hall.

'The oppression and exploitation by the Mo Yan Clan is truly extreme...'

Jiang Ding withdrew a wisp of divine sense from his spiritual void realm and silently observed this sect, assessing the survival state of the humans in this world.

In fact, by his habit, he should have chosen a deserted place to bury himself.

That way, there would be no karmic ties, no contact with people; that would be the safest.

However, the Hidden Soul Divine Art of the Shadow Demon Abyss has its own principles; hiding within the spiritual souls of mortals or cultivators allows for even more concealed aura, so that even when a high-level cultivator scans with divine sense, they might not detect him.

This is the crystallization of the Shadow Demon Abyss's immortal wisdom regarding concealment and infiltration.

Objectively speaking, for extremely high-level cultivators, the wilderness and crowded places are the same; nowhere is more concealed, even if buried underground.

Crowded places have one advantage: the spiritual aura is chaotic and varied, which is actually an advantage for infiltration.

Zhu Zi glanced reverently at this main hall inlaid with night-shining pearls, then entered step by step; upon seeing the two old men inside, his heart grew even more tense. He bowed respectfully and said, "Junior Uncle, this disciple has come to turn in today's purple jade stone."

"Good."

One of the gray-robed old men, sitting cross-legged, nodded slightly and said nothing more.

Daring not disturb him, Zhu Zi placed down the purple jade stone and carefully retreated.

After he left, the gray-robed elder waved his hand to draw in the purple jade stone, placed it on a large stone jar nearby, then took out a bamboo slip and recorded nine merit points next to 'Zhu Zi Two Seven Nine'.

"Nine points?"

A blue-robed Foundation Establishment cultivator nearby exclaimed with slight surprise, "By convention, shouldn't it be five merit points? The sect takes one, the superiors take one or two, and finally, you and I each get one."

"Does this boy have a past with you?"

"Or did you feel pity? It's useless. Such a slave-disciple miner, who cultivated the Blood-Burning Spirit Art and reached the seventh layer of Qi Condensation at such a young age, can only live to fifty at most; it's truly unnecessary to waste anything."

"It would be better to let the spirit stone remain for our cultivation; if our strength increases, the sect's strength increases by a fraction."

Knowing his old friend was kind-hearted, he offered this advice.

Knowing his old friend was kind-hearted, he advised.

The gray-robed Foundation Establishment elder sighed softly.

"This is the Sect Master's order."

"The slave-disciple miners below have been squeezed too harshly recently, already near their limit; we must relax things slightly, or they may develop the will to die."

"The mine-slave disciples below have been squeezed too harshly recently; they are already at their limit. We must ease up slightly, or they may well develop the will to die."

"If the mine slaves die in large numbers, we cannot turn in the ore, and we too shall die."

"We must... from time to time, give them a little hope."

The blue-robed Foundation Establishment cultivator remained silent.

"They have hope... what of our hope?"

He asked.

"We also cultivate the 'Blood-Flaming Spirit Art'; we cultivate much faster. Even at the Foundation Establishment stage, our lifespan is merely a hundred years, and we have no leisure each day."

"I... do not know."

The gray-robed Foundation Establishment cultivator shook his head.

"If only we could become direct disciples of the Sect Master."

The two fell silent for a moment, each taking out a piece of ore. With iron hammers and chisels, they clinked and clanged as they carved, using a special technique to strip the ore's skin while infusing their own magic power and blood qi into it, refining and elevating the ore's quality.

This was higher-quality ore, requiring a Foundation Establishment cultivator to carve and refine; no outsider could do it for them.

"Direct disciples of the Sect Master..."

These two did not know that at the peak of Shanfeng, an old man with white temples and a face full of wrinkles was likewise striking a third-grade ore, refining it with his magic power and his own lifespan and blood qi. Hearing their words, he gave a self-mocking smile.

"What are the Sect Master's disciples?"

"The Sect Master is also a mine slave."

True Person Chun Jian Shi Zhen Ren looked at the hammer and chisel in his hand, these two treasures that had accompanied him for over two hundred years.

He stared blankly for a very long time.

Afterwards,

Ding ding ding ding...

The sound of chiseling stone, which had continued for who knows how many years and months, rose again, numb and stiff.

This sound, no one knows how much longer it can continue.

For even this life can no longer be sustained; other powerful clans drool over this place, even though it is so barren.

Three