Chapter 153: The Manure Pit

This Transforming Divine Blade is indeed poisonous, and it may be more than that; Bai Lang can even sense that the vital energy on it differs from the one in front of Guan Ba—there must be a source, perhaps it has drawn some alien vital energy from elsewhere to wield this strange skill.

The hair strands moved like living things, writhing into the raging Qi, and the Golden Bell Shield's Qi was indeed hard to block. So Bai Lang activated the Great Sun Qi; the radiant Great Sun turned the Golden Bell Shield's bronze bell into dazzling gold, and a fierce blaze radiated outward from Bai Lang. "All the yin‑evil things, demons and specters, shall turn to ash beneath the Great Sun!" Wherever Bai Lang's Internal Force reached, the black hair gradually turned into foul black smoke and dissipated.

The vile, low curses were already gone before Bai Lang could even hear them clearly; amid the majestic bell of the Great Sun, all such yin‑evil things could not endure. Yet Guan Ba was not struck by the backlash after his Death‑Release Blade was shattered—once released it no longer concerned him, otherwise why would he pay the price of a bald head? Seizing the chance, the fellow fled, cutting off the path to the back courtyard.

Although he said in his mouth that he would kill everyone, Bai Lang's probing made him realize the matter was extremely difficult—everyone was an Innate Expert, and the opponents were numerous, so actually killing them was hard, while he himself was protected by the Golden Bell Shield, and the other side didn't want to risk severe injury or death just to kill him. What else could be done? Even the Pu Xiang family might have luck, if Bai Lang rushed in and there were still people alive.

Bai Lang swept through the long corridor like the wind, and indeed a vortex followed him; after the fight, he felt his command of wind had grown stronger. Entering the back courtyard, Bai Lang saw corpses—bodies strewn everywhere, almost all dead from poison—because aside from blood at mouth and nose, the victims bore no wounds. Some were still breathing; fortunately, the little girl he had seen earlier was among them.

Bai Lang seized the little girl, his Internal Force surged and poured into her to expel the poison and preserve her life. He had never attempted detoxification before, so he was unsure how to proceed; he merely sensed the toxins in her meridians and gradually pressed them out. As for sustaining life, his blazing Great Sun Internal Force within the Golden Bell Shield was of little use in this regard...

Even his abundant Internal Force could not restore the girl's life, and when Bai Lang carried her to the front hall, those people had already fled. "How to detoxify?" Bai Lang was also vexed; his mood was no longer the carefree one when he first entered the city, now filled with nameless fury—he didn't mind black‑on‑black dealings, having seen many when he was a thug for the Tooth Guild, but harming innocent children infuriated him.

One could argue that adults and elders sometimes profit from various evils, so it's understandable when a whole affair is wiped out at once, but children cannot be counted that way. That is Bai Lang's daily moral line; no matter how ruthless his killing, he has never harmed even a Tartar child. The poisons these people used seemed quite potent, and Bai Lang knew many have no antidote—only induced vomiting can alleviate them. "In a modern society they could be rushed to rescue, but where here can I find a national master?"

With Bai Lang's martial skill, even the abundant primordial Qi could not restore the little girl's life; watching her breathing grow shallow and erratic, Bai Lang's brows furrowed deeper—if earlier his words about rescuing seemed casual, now his mood was like rolling thunder in the sky, the White Tiger in his heart roaring. Yet those responsible had already vanished without a trace; even if they remained, Bai Lang would not fight them—though angry, he still retained reason.

He carried the little girl and leapt straight into the air, running dozens of li beyond the city before stopping. The girl was already dead; Bai Lang placed her on the ground, carefully tidied her up, and wiped away the blood. He stood, swung his right hand level, and a massive tree snapped cleanly in two—such a trunk could normally encircle a person. Bai Lang stripped the bark, split the tree, and hollowed it out.

This made a coffin; after placing the girl inside, Bai Lang dug a pit and buried her. As for a tombstone—Bai Lang didn't even know her name; she was probably a Pu, but why a tombstone for a sudden death? Aside from Bai Lang, perhaps no one alive would remember her. So he simply buried her beneath a tree, peeled off a piece of bark, and casually wrote the character Pu on it.

Bai Lang stood there for a while, feeling a urge to smoke, but he didn't. He touched his lips, growing more disgusted with what he saw and heard. "I must kill those mixed‑up bastards! One was named Guan Ba, right? But before killing him I need to know who poisoned the food, who set this trap… That part needs no extra thought; I'll find the Hall Master of Six and a Half Hall and the Grand Hall Master, that's correct."

This matter requires long planning, and once he acts, his scheme of being a petty landlord here will be ruined. Yet Bai Lang felt no frustration, only a restless eagerness, "I really want to act immediately." He still has to return to the inn, but he thinks he can live more freely. "I'm originally a beggar; staying in an empty house or a land temple is fine!"

In short, first map out the various forces in Ji City, then figure out who reports to whom, then one can strike precisely. Joining the Golden Breeze Light Rain Tower, which opposes Six and a Half Hall, was never an option for Bai Lang—he doesn't want to join any organization. "It's hard enough to get out of the manure pit; no need to jump into another! Good people don't join societies!"

This world has mirrors, not bronze ones but true mercury mirrors, and when Bai Lang checked out of the inn and retrieved his luggage, he also glanced at the mirror, "Sure enough, this style suits some families—except for official robes and armor, it's probably just beggar clothing… Proper scholar attire and chivalrous garb don't fit my style." He looked at the big man in the mirror; his beard was tangled, and it seemed another stretch of time would make it burst, though it could still hide his relatively fresh face.

At present no one ambushed him on the road or in the inn; after leaving, as he walked, he understood what was happening… Ahead stood a chubby, smiling, bald man looking like a Maitreya, waiting for him. Bai Lang gave the fat man a glance, the man shook his head, sat at a tea stall on the side, and prepared to listen to what the person had to say.