Chapter 52: Escalating Conflict [Thank You for Breaking 1000!]

By nightfall, since leaving Luo Ge’s camp,

over two hours had passed, and that wooden puppet ghost had still not appeared.

It wasn’t just Luo Ming and the others assigned as bait who were agitated.

Yang Ning and Li Hu, who had been hiding in the shadows, felt the same.

This was their final attempt; if the wooden puppet ghost didn’t show up again, Yang Ning planned to leave Hongmu Ridge with Li Hu.

Thinking of all the benefits they’d gain from hunting the wooden puppet ghost, the thought of leaving empty-handed if it never appeared only made them more restless.

Just then, Li Hu heard murmurs of discontent coming from ahead—his already frayed temper snapped.

Lu He heard the slap and Li Hu’s subsequent curses, instantly realizing something was wrong, and rushed to the scene.

Seeing Hong Mu’s face bloody from Li Hu’s slap, he hurried over, helped him up, and bowed to apologize to Li Hu.

“Forgive me, my lord—Hong Mu is young and foolish, that’s why he spoke without thinking.”

After speaking, he lowered his head and signaled Hong Mu with his eyes to quickly apologize to Li Hu.

There were fifty-two people total on this mission, divided into seven groups, and only five camps altogether, so the groups weren’t organized by camp—they were mixed randomly.

Hong Mu was the son of Hong Gang, leader of Dachuan Camp; he was indeed young, only in his early twenties, and had been assigned to Lu He’s group.

Lu He and Hong Gang knew each other well and got along, so Lu He treated Hong Mu like a nephew or younger cousin, which was why he was so eager to help.

Though Hong Mu’s face burned from Li Hu’s slap, the physical pain paled beside the crushing shame he felt.

Li Hu might be stronger, but he was roughly the same age; being slapped hard in front of Qiba people filled Hong Mu with rage he could barely contain.

Young and fiery, Hong Mu instinctively resisted Lu He’s Quanjie , struggling to rise and retort to Li Hu.

But before he could stand, Lu He’s hand pressed him down firmly.

Seeing Lu He shake his head slightly, Hong Mu’s face twisted with suppressed fury—he swallowed the words already on his tongue.

As the son of Hong Gang, leader of Dachuan Camp, Hong Mu knew more than others; he understood the meaning behind Lu He’s headshake.

Leaving aside the wooden puppet ghost, which only Yang Ning and Li Hu could handle, angering them would only hurt those living in Hongmu Ridge.

Even if he refused to care about the ghost, could he possibly gain anything by clashing with Yang and Li?

Yang and Li were both Earth-Digging Realm experts, stronger even than Luo Ming, the strongest among Hongmu Ridge’s own.

So, weighing everything, no matter how furious he was, he had to swallow it.

Even if he believed his earlier words hadn’t truly insulted them—that the slap was unjust—he had no choice.

Hong Mu suppressed the humiliation on his face, nodded to Lu He, and prepared to apologize to Li Hu.

But before he could speak, Li Hu spoke first.

“Young? Looks like he’s over twenty, and still only Cultivation of Woodcutting Realm? A useless man, fine—but can’t even control his own mouth? Next time, it won’t be just one slap!”

Hong Mu’s face flushed crimson; the anger he’d suppressed surged back, and ignoring Lu He’s restraint, he shouted back:

“If you’re so strong, why did the wooden puppet ghost escape you four times? Wasn’t what I said true? Its power is already above yours—and those four escapes were probably deliberate tricks!”

Hong Mu’s retort stunned Li Hu.

He clearly hadn’t expected Hong Mu to dare shout back so loudly.

When he recovered, he flew into a rage:

“You piece of trash, how dare you bark at me!”

As he cursed, he lunged forward toward Hong Mu.

“My lord, show mercy!”

Luo Ming’s voice didn’t stop Li Hu’s motion.

Slap…………

This time, his slap was heavier, louder—everyone nearby who had approached with Luo Ming heard it clearly.

Li Hu’s slap to Hong Mu’s face wasn’t enough.

Before Hong Mu could fall, he delivered another heavy kick, sending him flying five or six meters.

“Mu’er!”

Hong Gang, who had been following Luo Ming, rushed forward to catch his son; after checking his wounds, he turned to Li Hu, his face filled with fury—but he held back, speaking in a low, controlled tone:

“My lord, it was just idle talk—why such violence?”

Hong Gang likely thought his question alone showed extreme restraint.

But from Li Hu’s perspective, that question was a serious provocation.

“You worm, how dare you question me?”

“My lord, please watch your tongue—we may be worms, but we’re risking our lives to assist you two in hunting ghosts. Why degrade us so?”

Luo Ming stepped between Li Hu and Hong Gang, his voice low, his face grim.

The moment Li Hu spat out “worm,” he knew this couldn’t be smoothed over easily.

With anyone else, he might have asked Hong Gang to spare his face—after all, it was Hong Mu who was struck, but now even Hong Gang had been insulted, and there was no way around it.

Hong Mu’s words weren’t just his own; the entire group had been saying the same thing.

After four escapes by the wooden puppet ghost, everyone—including Luo Ming himself—had grown resentful toward Yang and Li.

Add this incident to the mix, and if he didn’t stand firm now, this fragile alliance would collapse instantly.

He didn’t expect Li Hu to understand him or cooperate in a performance; over these past days, his opinion of Li Hu had only worsened—this man was strong, yes, but reckless, hot-tempered, and never thought before speaking.

As expected, Li Hu didn’t grasp his meaning at all; he seemed offended by Luo Ming’s words, his anger deepening.

“Enough, Hu Zi, don’t go too far.”

Fortunately, Yang Ning appeared and stopped him.

Seeing Yang Ning approach, Luo Ming finally exhaled.

In truth, both Yang and Li clearly looked down on them; every time they spoke to these men, their superiority oozed.

But compared to Li Hu, Yang Ning still held back a little—he was colder, calmer, far more mature and composed.

So his earlier words, though spoken to Li Hu, were meant for Yang Ning—he knew Yang Ning would understand the subtext and cooperate to calm Hong Gang’s group.

Unfortunately, Yang Ning did cooperate—but Luo Ming had clearly underestimated the fury Hong Gang had been holding in for days.

Seeing his son’s injuries, Hong Gang stood up, bowed deeply to Luo Ming, and spoke in a low tone:

“Enough, Luo Head. No more words—my Dachuan Camp are all useless; we’d only pollute your eyes by staying. We’re leaving.”

Worse still, the moment Hong Gang spoke,

Huang Yong, Lu He, and Chen Ying all spoke up too.

“We feel the same—please forgive us, Luo Head.”

“The wooden puppet ghost won’t appear anymore. Since we can’t kill it, staying here is pointless. Luo Head, I’m taking my group away.”

“I agree. Luo Head, Huang Zhao’s camp is leaving too.”

Seeing the four camps he’d painstakingly gathered yesterday all demand to leave, Luo Ming’s head throbbed—he wanted to stop them, but had no words, and his resentment toward Li Hu grew heavier.

“Who’s there? Come out from behind that tree!”

As everyone fell silent, Yang Ning suddenly turned and roared toward the east.

The others, thinking the wooden puppet ghost had appeared, all turned to follow his gaze.

But it wasn’t the ghost.

A tall, muscular young man leapt down from a tree, walked to a spot over ten meters away, scanned the group, then bowed with clasped fists, his face tense:

“I am Xia Hong, leader of the Great Xia Camp. Who is Luo Ming? I have urgent news to deliver to him.”

Over a thousand readers have followed—still climbing. Thank you all for sticking with me during this time. I can’t repay you except by writing faster. The early chapters were slow, released slowly, so it’s natural you’re frustrated; taking a break is perfectly understandable. But I only ask you to click “follow” daily. In a new book’s early stage, you all know how it is—I’m not deliberately dragging things out. You should see the signs now. I’m seriously, carefully building this world. But the protagonist starts at rock bottom. I want to lay out the setting, but fear it’ll drown the plot, so I can only proceed slowly. Please bear with me—thank you!

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(End of Chapter)