Chapter 54: Self-Inflicted Misery Cannot Be Survived

Wei Changsheng curled up in a pile of rotting leaves, a metallic taste rising in his throat.

He could clearly hear the grinding sound of his broken ribs, like two shards of porcelain scraping back and forth within his flesh.

Wei Changsheng possessed low cultivation and had never learned such profound arts as divination. He now strongly suspected that this Monk was not divining at all, but simply wanted to torture him.

Even though his body had been tempered by the violent qi, granting him skin of copper and bones of iron, having been repeatedly thrown and then slammed hard onto the ground, several of his bones had inevitably broken.

Pain was secondary; what truly made Wei Changsheng unbearable to endure was the humiliation of being unable to control his own life or death.

Since he began cultivation, when had he ever felt such helplessness and inability to struggle?

But the fact was just so; he was like an ant being played with, not knowing when he would die at this Monk's hands.

Being thrown after flying just a few li, Wei Changsheng could not recall how many times his face had collided hard with the ground; he only remembered that just as he was about to faint, this Monk finally stopped, emitting a sound of confusion.

"What is this?"

The disheveled Monk threw Wei Changsheng aside, pushed aside the dense forest, and walked to a stone stele.

Wei Changsheng wiped the rotting mud from his face and stood aside, cowering.

He dared not run; he had previously thought to escape while he had the chance, but he had not run more than a few zhang before being caught and brought back, only to be served a big black foot again, which stomped him into the ground.

This Monk's cultivation was too high; Wei Changsheng had absolutely no chance.

Now seeing this Monk stop and gaze, Wei Changsheng also curiously took a look, hoping in his heart for a turning point.

The result was that upon seeing the text on the stone stele, he was immediately attracted by the signature.

Independent Cultivator Chen Ye, Qinghe Sword Sect's Su Chunyi.

These two names were so glaring that they made Wei Changsheng's face twist for a moment.

It was these two people again; if not for them, how would he have fallen into such a state? Wei Changsheng now wished he could catch up to them quickly, so that this Monk would kill Chen Ye and Su Chunyi; at least that way, someone could be dragged down with them.

But what is this stone stele?

Why is it here, and why did this Monk find his way here?

After carefully reading the text above, Wei Changsheng finally knew that this was actually the burial place of that Bitter Calamity Monk.

They encountered the place where that Demon Head buried his corpse, so they killed that Demon Head and even erected a stele to claim merit?

Wei Changsheng felt happy in his heart; seeing the stone stele, this Monk's killing intent was likely even stronger, and after catching those two, he would surely torture them even more cruelly.

But the disheveled Monk did not, as Wei Changsheng expected, angrily smash this stone stele; instead, he pressed his palms together and said to this pile of graves: "Amitabha, disturbing the deceased, sin, sin."

This appearance of high moral standing made Wei Changsheng surprised; when this Monk was torturing him, he did not have this kind of face.

Indeed, the Buddhist sects are the most hypocritical! They are all evil paths!

Just as he was full of resentment, Wei Changsheng saw the disheveled Monk bend down, pick up a crude straw man from under the stone stele, examine it carefully, and then throw this straw man toward Wei Changsheng.

Wei Changsheng hurriedly caught it, then heard this Monk say: "This straw man is not simple; a disciple of the Qinghe Sword Sect having such means truly lives up to being the number one sect in the world."

Wei Changsheng frowned, carefully inspected this straw man, but drew a completely different conclusion.

"It is merely an unrefined art of cursing."

Wei Changsheng was a scion of a prestigious family and could see through the use of this straw man at a glance. It was the most common straw man cursing rumored in the markets; many heterodox paths played with such minor spells.

Take hair or fresh blood, blend it into the straw man, refine it into a simple magical treasure, and then one can use needles to prick it.

The principle is also very simple: when a cultivator refines their innate magical treasure, if the treasure is destroyed, the owner will suffer backlash; the two are similar in effect. It is just that refining a straw man is much simpler, nor does it need any function; it only needs to be connected to the master's mind and spirit.

Such a simple thing, any cultivator who has just entered the gate could make; what is there to be surprised about?

The disheveled Monk smiled and explained: "Did you not think why this straw man would be here, and why we would be here?"

Wei Changsheng pondered for a moment, suddenly widened his eyes, and said in surprise: "They deliberately left it here?"

"They?" The disheveled Monk smiled: "You never told me there were two people; from beginning to end, you spoke only of people from the Qinghe Sword Sect. I suppose the other one is this independent cultivator Chen Ye, correct?"

Wei Changsheng actually wanted to fabricate a reason, but the words at his lips turned into: "Correct, I also guess there were two people."

After speaking, Wei Changsheng could not help but cover his own mouth.

His ribs were all broken from the fall, so how was the spell that forbids lying still in effect?

The disheveled Monk did not continue to punish him, but instead praised: "Regardless of who made this straw man, the other party is extremely intelligent; he already guessed that this poor monk is not good at divination and cannot precisely locate their whereabouts. This straw man is stained with the blood of two people, like an innate magical treasure, and placed before this stone stele. This place has countless connections with them; if this poor monk wants to search, he might be misled here.

"This is a gamble, but they gambled correctly. In such a short time, to calculate this point and still dare to risk trying, bold yet careful, truly a remarkable person."

Wei Changsheng felt unpleasant hearing this; why did this Monk still look like he was admiring them? Wasn't he here to avenge the Bitter Calamity Monk? Where is the praise for one's own enemy?

Feeling indignant in his heart, Wei Changsheng pinched the straw man and said: "That is also a foolish act; this object is just like that innate magical treasure, perfect for performing the art of cursing; if I cast a curse on this straw man, they will instead suffer a hidden attack."

The disheveled Monk smiled: "Then you can try."

Wei Changsheng suddenly felt that his sealed Qi sea could circulate again, and immediately became excited. At this moment, he had long forgotten the relationship between the Qinghe Sword Sect and the Incense Burning Sect, thinking only of making Su Chunyi taste the bitterness of pain as well.

Spiritual energy gathered at his fingertips, transforming into a sharp needle, which he thrust down toward this straw man.

The straw man was connected by bloodline to its original owner; if a mortal were struck, they would surely die with blood flowing from their seven orifices.

Su Chunyi's cultivation was at the Profound Penetration Realm; this strike could not kill her, but it could cause her some injury, making her even less able to run away, and he himself would be thrown fewer times.

Wei Changsheng thought this way, so his strike was ruthless.

However, just as this spiritual energy needle touched the straw man, it exploded with a 'Boom', and thick smoke rushed to his face, making Wei Changsheng feel a moment of suffocation.

"Not good, this smoke is poisonous!"

Wei Changsheng hurriedly retreated; by the time he was far from the smoke, both his hands and face were already red and swollen, numb and itchy.

The disheveled Monk laughed loudly: "Hahaha, self-inflicted misery cannot be survived!"

Wei Changsheng covered his face, desperately trying to force the poison out with spiritual energy, but the harder he exerted himself, the more the poison drilled into his flesh and blood, causing him to roll on the ground in pain.

Just as he was about to tear his own face skin off from the pain, that Monk raised his big black foot again and kicked him hard in the face.

Wei Changsheng rolled a few more times, breaking several more bones, but with a spurt of black blood, the feeling of pain and numbness dissipated considerably.

The disheveled Monk grabbed Wei Changsheng and mocked: "For you to be a disciple of a prestigious orthodox sect, you still could not see the exquisite design of this straw man?"

Wei Changsheng lowered his head and offered no rebuttal.

The disheveled Monk, however, saw his unwillingness to submit, shook his head, and explained: "You thought he merely hid poison? Greatly mistaken; the refinement technique of this straw man is extremely exquisite, with rune designs arranged like freshly fried crispy pastry, yet they crumble at a touch, making it impossible to use for cursing others. Conversely, if someone casts a curse on this straw man, then they will know the straw man has taken effect, successfully misleading us here.

"Poison is merely secondary; you just told them that the straw man's deception method is effective."

Wei Changsheng was shocked, never expecting that a mere straw man would involve such calculation.

However, the words the untidy Monk spoke next made him even more afraid.

"You brought this upon yourself. Had you not stirred up anger, the straw man would not have been triggered; perhaps you could still have deceived the opponent. Now, you have reminded them that the straw man is effective. I imagine the entire journey ahead will be filled with such straw men. Whether you can catch up depends on luck. As for you, I'm afraid you'll end up smashed into mud, hehe."

The untidy Monk grinned broadly, and Wei Changsheng, looking at his mouth full of yellow teeth, finally fainted from fear.