Chapter 187: Patrol the River, Plant the Divine Seed of Faith

The Yangchun River, shimmering with sunlight, lay silent and majestic, making human effort seem utterly insignificant before it.

Thin wisps of smoke rose, carrying a rich aroma of meat.

Massive cauldrons stood along the riverbank, one after another, stretching to the horizon.

Captains and deputy captains clad in cloud-patterned ink robes or wolf-skin cloaks had never received such an order; though no wine was served, they needed only to devour meat in large bites.

As for the source of the meat.

Three fearsome dragon heads were hung high, their hundred-zhang bodies coiled along the riverbank; though dead for some time, they retained their living forms with no signs of decay, and captains with basic culinary skill used precious blades to carve the flesh, then boiled it fiercely with fine salt to make it palatable.

An old general clad in black armor sat at the front, before him a small table.

His expression was calm; he poured himself half a bowl of wine slowly, sipped it, and gazed coldly at the river before him.

Even the roaring waves could not move him.

Beneath his commanding aura, even the Yangchun River seemed dimmed.

Zhen Mo Si Patrol!

The captains of Juncheng chewed dragon meat while casting reverent glances toward the old man.

They said General Chen was aged, but who could have imagined that an old tiger still harbored fury in its heart? When he reopened his tiger eyes, he remained the very general who had terrified Juncheng—the Zhen Mo General!

Two months ago, the Yangchun River dragon clan dared emerge to bring calamity upon mortals.

Today, General Chen, before their very eyes, would let these beasts witness the methods of Zhen Mo Si.

Eat their flesh, drink their blood!

With that black iron great halberd, he had crushed the aquatic races into submission.

"…"

Chen Qiankun wanted to rub his stiffened face, but sensing the burning gazes behind him, he abandoned the thought.

These young men following him had not felt such triumph in many years.

There are distinctions among Zhen Mo Generals.

For instance, in Yushan County, under Jiang Qiulan's intimidation, no demons or monsters dared intrude; even if she left for months, the county remained tranquil, and her captains and deputy captains needed only to perform basic patrols.

But the youths under my command are constantly oppressed by demonic threats, never allowed a moment's respite.

Having finally enjoyed such an atmosphere, I should not spoil it for them.

"Yet…"

Chen Qiankun stared at the calm river and could not help sighing inwardly.

If that old dragon truly breaks through again, becoming comparable to a Golden Core cultivator who has shattered the Three Passes, and on its own turf, not even I—but even Jiang Qiulan herself—could slay it.

The joke he told Liu Yuquan when sending word was actually a plea: to use the sharpest sword in Outside Qingzhou, at least drive the old dragon back into the water and prevent Juncheng from becoming a wasteland of slaughtered lives.

As for why he agreed to Shen Yi's plan.

Besides genuinely admiring the young man and being willing to join him in his recklessness, he also felt that as a Zhen Mo General, he could not hide within the county walls and push the Li Min he was sworn to protect out to die in his stead.

At this moment, in a distant village.

Several people sat around a table.

The villagers had long been driven away, leaving only two who refused to leave.

The widow carefully removed dragon meat from the pot and placed it on the table, then timidly glanced at the young man in black armor and red cloak.

Months had passed, yet he still wore the same golden-patterned black-sheathed blade; his handsome face had lost some of its cold, killing aura, yet his pressure far exceeded what it had been—as if, having slaughtered too much, his murderous intent had turned inward.

The madman no longer looked disheveled; he now appeared as a refined young man.

He took his hidden wine and respectfully filled both their cups.

Fang Heng had no interest in drinking; his face was filled with worry, but he remained silent beside him; after many encounters, he had learned to stay quiet before Shen Yi.

What the man intended to do was not for him to question.

"…"

Shen Yi closed his eyes and sank into inner observation.

Within his qi sea.

The Dao seed within the Tiannan Dan Shi had grown larger, emitting a crimson glow, while thick white mist surrounded it.

Since arriving in Juncheng, these offerings of faith had become even more abundant.

Strange…

Even if someone had truly built a temple for him, how could so much faith accumulate in such a short time since his transmigration?

He could not recall ever doing anything worthy of worship.

Forget it, why think so much?

Shen Yi had long wished to simultaneously nurture a Nascent Soul and Yin Spirit; now that he had time, he might as well try.

He opened his eyes and called up his interface, staring at the remaining nine thousand years of lifespan.

He once again ran the Tiannan Dan Shi technique through simulation.

This time, however, he did not rely on demonic core cultivation; instead, he turned his attention to the offerings of faith.

【Year One, you begin attempting to plant the divine seed…】

Instantly, the white mist, which had merely drifted toward the youth by instinct, was greedily sucked into his qi sea's dantian.

Seeing this, Shen Yi finally understood why the Yin Spirit path was called a shortcut.

He need not laboriously gather anything—he only needed to sit here, and offerings of faith would envelop him from all directions.

Perhaps due to prior experience, progress was smooth, with no unexpected setbacks.

【Year Nine Hundred Thirty-Two, you successfully condense the divine seed…】

The invisible white mist grew thin.

In return, a faint white dot, pulsing slowly within the dantian, now glowed beside the crimson Dao seed.

Just like that, it succeeded?

Shen Yi lifted his wine cup to mask the surprise on his face.

The white speck of light did not seem to be the same thing as the crimson Dao seed; he could even see the blood threads spreading from both of them overlapping, like a soul reaching out to touch a physical body, then passing straight through it.

Now there was no need to even squeeze the two of them together to feel wronged.

But this white speck of light did not seem to bring him any improvement.

Neither his strength nor his aura had changed in the slightest.

Unfortunately, the incense and prayer power was nearly spent; otherwise Shen Yi would have wanted to keep deducing, to see what new changes might occur.

He closed the panel and began exploring the function of this white divine seed.

He had originally been thinking whether he could use old man Chen Qiankun to provoke the flood dragon, let it see its sworn brothers being dismembered and devoured, then in a fit of rage force a breakthrough, leaving its realm unstable and its strength greatly diminished…

Yet now the Yangchun River was quieter than usual.

It seemed any old thing that could live this many years still possessed this steadiness.

In the blink of an eye, another five days passed.

The water in the pot on the riverbank boiled dry again and again.

The three hundred-zhang-long flood dragon corpses had been hacked into pits and hollows, too gruesome to look at.

The Captains and Vice-Captains were truly nearly sick of eating it; even if it was meant to intimidate the aquatic tribe, there was no need to keep it going, was there?

They looked helplessly at old man Chen ahead, only to find that he had no intention of ordering a stop whatsoever.

Just then, the man finally rose to his feet.

Joy welled up in the Captains' eyes, but before that joy could show on their faces, they saw wave after wave of river water crashing against the bank.

In the middle of the turbid Yangchun River, a pitch-black line suddenly appeared—at least two hundred zhang long.

The crowd froze for an instant, their pupils contracting sharply, a full body of goosebumps rising.

A pitch-black shadow appeared beneath the water, then rapidly expanded until it occupied most of the river's surface.

That black line was the ridged back of some fearsome aquatic beast!

(End of this chapter)