Chapter 14

In the evening, as the sky grew dark, the refugees dared not sleep in the wild and walked toward a dilapidated ancient temple not far away.

The ancient temple was named "Mingshan," which sounded somewhat elegant, but it had long been abandoned; half of the mountain gate had collapsed, vines crawled over the courtyard walls, and only one main hall remained relatively intact, becoming a temporary resting place for passing refugees.

Su Chen followed the crowd into the main hall, which was already crowded with people, and the air was filled with a complex smell of sweat and mold.

He found a corner, sat cross-legged, and closed his eyes to rest.

In the middle of the night, the sound of a baby crying startled Su Chen from his light meditation.

The crying was shrill and sharp, filled with pain, followed immediately by a woman's suppressed sobbing.

"My child, my child! What is wrong with you?"

The refugees in the hall, awakened by the noise, became restless. Someone lit a fire starter, and in the dim firelight, a young woman could be seen holding a swaddled infant, crying as if her heart were breaking.

The baby in her arms had a face that had turned blue-purple, and its limbs were stiff; it was clearly breathless.

"What a sin; the child was fine during the day, how could it just be gone?"

"I'm afraid it was starved so badly it just couldn't catch its breath."

People discussed it, all assuming it was just another common tragedy in these chaotic times.

Su Chen's brow, however, was tightly locked.

He stood up and walked to the woman's side.

His spiritual sense had already swept over the scene; the baby had not died of hunger or illness. Within its body, there was a faint, cold demonic aura.

This demonic aura was extremely faint, and ordinary cultivators would be unable to detect it, but Su Chen cultivated the Jin Dan Dao, and his spiritual sense was pure and extremely sensitive to such alien auras.

"Madam, may I take a look at the child?" Su Chen's voice was gentle.

The woman was already crying out of her mind, just clutching the child and refusing to let go.

An old man nearby sighed: "Young man, the dead cannot return to life; let her have her cry."

Su Chen ignored him and simply extended two fingers, lightly tapping the baby's brow.

A tiny, imperceptible golden light entered, and the scene before his eyes changed instantly.

He "saw" that just a moment ago, a black shadow had drifted down from the rafters like green smoke, landing silently on the sleeping infant.

The black shadow extended sharp claws, lightly covering the baby's mouth and nose, sucking away a breath of life force.

That life force, like a wisp of white smoke, was sucked into the black shadow's mouth. It let out a satisfied sigh, flickered, and vanished back into the darkness.

"So it is a Qi-eating Demon." Su Chen understood.

This kind of minor demon had low cultivation and could not even take human form, only maintaining the form of a shadow.

They had no combat power themselves and only stole the life force of living people while they slept.

A child's life force was the purest and was their favorite.

In peaceful times, with the protection of human destiny in cities and villages, such minor demons would never dare to approach.

But now, with war raging everywhere and destiny in decline, they took advantage of the situation.

Although it was only a breath of life force, it might only cause an adult to fall ill, but for this swaddled infant, it was fatal.

A cold glint flashed in Su Chen's eyes.

He could ignore the rise and fall of human dynasties, but he could not tolerate such demonic creatures harming people in front of him.

He said to the woman: "Madam, your son might still be saved."

This one sentence made the woman, who had already been in despair, suddenly raise her head, an astonishing brilliance erupting in her eyes: "What did you say? My child... my child can still be saved?"

The surrounding refugees also cast surprised looks, and someone muttered: "The person is already stiff, how could it be saved? Is this young man a madman?"

Su Chen ignored the others and said to the woman: "Lay the child flat and step back a few paces."

The woman, as if grasping at the last straw, quickly followed his instructions.

Su Chen crouched down, formed a sword finger, and mobilized a wisp of pure innate true essence within his body, virtually drawing a talisman on the baby's chest.

This was not some profound magic, but simply using his own pure Yang true essence to simulate the exorcism effect of a talisman.

The golden talisman rune flashed and vanished, entering the baby's body.

That pure Yang true essence was like a scorching sun on snow, instantly dispersing the remaining cold demonic aura completely.

Immediately after, Su Chen transferred a wisp of faint vitality.

This was the life-generating Qi he had realized from countless plants and trees during his thirteen years of woodcutting; although faint, it was enough to reignite the baby's weak spark of life.

"Waa—"

A loud cry rang out in the main hall.

The baby, who had been stiff and blue-purple, miraculously saw its small face return to a rosy color, and its hands and feet began to kick about.

"It's alive! It's really alive!"

"An immortal! We've met an immortal!"

The entire hall instantly boiled over.

Everyone looked at Su Chen with the eyes of someone looking at an immortal, and the young woman wept with joy, falling to her knees with a "thud" and kowtowing to Su Chen repeatedly: "Thank you, benefactor! Thank you, benefactor, for saving my child's life!"

Su Chen helped her up and said calmly: "It was a small effort. But the demonic creature that harmed him is still in the temple; I fear tonight will not be peaceful."

As soon as these words were spoken, everyone in the hall turned pale with fright.

"A... demonic creature?"

"Benefactor, what kind of demonic creature is it? Will it come back?"

Su Chen reassured them: "Everyone need not panic; with me here, it cannot harm anyone."

He raised his head, his gaze like lightning, sweeping toward the rafters of the main hall.

Above, the carved beams and painted pillars were covered in thick dust and spiderwebs.

But in his spiritual sense, that black shadow was lurking in the darkest corner, shivering.

It was clearly frightened by Su Chen's display of pure Yang true essence just now, but it was reluctant to leave this room full of "delicacies" and was hesitating.

"Hmph, you wicked creature, you are truly bold!"

Su Chen snorted coldly; he couldn't be bothered to use any thunder-summoning spells, fearing the commotion would be too great and frighten these mortals.

He simply formed a finger seal and flicked it lightly toward the rafters.

A gust of wind, almost invisible to the naked eye, wrapped in his axe intent—honed through a thousand trials—broke through the air.

This axe intent was formless and qualityless, yet sharp to the extreme.

It did not strike a flesh-and-blood body but struck directly at the Qi-eating Demon's original demonic soul.

"Squeak—"

A shrill, inhuman scream came from the rafters. The black shadow twisted violently, as if split in two by an invisible sharp blade, and then, with a "poof," it turned into a wisp of green smoke and dissipated completely into the air.

The entire process was incredibly fast.

Except for that piercing scream, the refugees in the hall had no idea what had happened.

Su Chen withdrew his finger and said to the crowd: "The demonic creature has been eliminated; everyone sleep in peace."

After saying this, he returned to his corner and sat down again, as if he had only done a trivial thing.

But the refugees in the hall could no longer remain calm.

They looked at Su Chen's back, their eyes filled with awe and gratitude.

For the rest of the night, no one dared to make a sound, and the entire hall fell silent.

Early the next morning, when Su Chen woke up, he found some things placed in front of him.

There was half a piece of dry, hard wheat cake, a chipped earthenware pot filled with clean water, and a few green, unripe wild fruits picked from somewhere.

These were the refugees using their only, most precious things to express their gratitude.

Su Chen looked at these things and remained silent for a long time.

He picked up the half-piece of wheat cake and took a light bite; the dry, hard texture was somewhat difficult to swallow.

He had not eaten mundane food for many years, but at this moment, he felt this wheat cake had more flavor than any immortal fruit.

For the rest of the journey, he did not ride the wind again but followed this group of refugees, step by step, toward the capital.