Chapter 30

“I’ve got him!” Zuo Gaofeng cried.

Wei Hongqing caught up in a few strides, kicked the net bag, flipping Lu Zian upright, then grabbed his wrist: “Dead!”

Zuo Gaofeng asked: “Dead? Isn’t dead good enough? Do we need him alive?”

Wei Hongqing confirmed Lu Zian’s death and shook his head: “Tianmu Mountain didn’t specify alive or dead...”

Zuo Gaofeng grew tense: “Will the reward still be paid?”

Wei Hongqing said: “I’ll fight for it.” He patted Lu Zian’s corpse, finding nothing but the short sword and five spirit stones.

Zuo Gaofeng asked: “No Foundation Establishment pill?”

Tan Ba frowned: “Could he have already swallowed it?”

Wei Hongqing shook his head: “I checked his meridians—his dantian isn’t formed, not even a trace. If he’d taken a Foundation Establishment pill, it wouldn’t look like this. And in just a few days, he couldn’t have fully completed his tenth layer—he couldn’t have absorbed it... It’s probably still in the cave. If it’s not there, we’ll have to look to that woman. Where’s the Hermit?”

Liu Xiaolou, lagging behind, had seen clearly and replied: “The Hermit was guarding the woman. She can’t have escaped.”

Tan Ba lifted the net bag, slinging Lu Zian’s corpse over his shoulder. The group immediately turned back toward the cave.

The fire in the cave still burned, but the Western Mountain Hermit was gone, and so was the woman named Pinggu. The cave was small—clear at a glance. The far end was a mess: shattered wine jars, overturned iron pots and wooden bowls, torn wool blankets.

The men exchanged glances, all sensing trouble.

“The Hermit... something happened?” Tan Ba asked, voice trembling.

Wei Hongqing frowned: “Search!”

The group split up. Soon, Zuo Gaofeng found a few drops of blood outside the cave, then more blood farther on. He cursed: “Damn thief! We worked our asses off, and now some bandit swoops in to steal the prize!”

Wei Hongqing’s face turned ashen. He led the chase.

The blood trail was intermittent but unbroken, pointing clearly in the direction the thief fled: he re-entered the tunnel, returned to the mansion, leapt over the wall, and fled east.

Tan Ba, carrying Lu Zian’s corpse, found it cumbersome, but Wei Hongqing refused to leave it behind. They’d already lost the Foundation Establishment pill—if they lost Lu Zian too, all their effort would be wasted.

Besides, they’d found no trace of the Western Mountain Hermit’s body—or even Pinggu’s. That meant both were likely still alive, possibly taken hostage and fleeing together. The captor was equally hindered.

So they took turns carrying Lu Zian’s corpse in the net bag, following the blood and footprints straight east.

After crossing the Willow River, the blood trail vanished. But on the stony beach of the river bend, they found a woman’s sock. Zuo Gaofeng immediately recognized it as Pinggu’s.

Following that direction, they found torn scraps of clothing caught on branches, and fresh drops of blood.

Wei Hongqing judged: the attacker was clearly panicked, outnumbered, and weak—otherwise, they wouldn’t have left so many traces.

They chased all night, covering nearly a hundred li. Even Tan Ba was gritting his teeth: “How much blood did the Hermit lose? If you add Pinggu’s blood, maybe it makes sense—but if not...”

Ahead lay a peach orchard. Zuo Gaofeng sprinted ahead, then suddenly raised his hand—a signal.

The group stirred with excitement, spreading into a fan formation.

Liu Xiaolou had just taken his second turn carrying the corpse and lagged behind. When he reached them, Wei Hongqing, Zuo Gaofeng, and Tan Ba stood silently before another corpse.

It was Pinggu’s body, dumped in the wilderness with no attempt at burial.

Wei Hongqing exhaled slowly: “Not the Hermit’s...”

Zuo Gaofeng asked: “What do we do with her body? Useful?”

Wei Hongqing shook his head: “No.”

The group dispersed to search for further traces. While they did, Liu Xiaolou hastily dug a shallow grave and buried Pinggu.

That night’s pursuit had fully revealed Zuo Gaofeng’s tracking prowess. Early clues had been found by all, but after the Willow River, eight out of ten leads came from him—he excelled at spotting minute signs and judging direction. Now, he spotted it again: from a broken half-broken peach branch, he deduced the thief had changed course, turning southeast.

Tan Ba stepped forward to take the corpse. Liu Xiaolou felt instantly lighter—carrying over a hundred jin for dozens of li, even a Qi Refining third-layer cultivator grew weary.

The two fell behind, whispering.

“Zuo Xia’s tracking skills are truly remarkable—how’d he learn them? Do you know, Brother Liu?”

“Honestly, I barely knew him before. Heard he was a hunter from the south, but I don’t recall when he moved to our Wulong Mountain.”

“A hunter? He’s far better than any hunter.”

“Of course—he’s a Qi Refining seventh-layer hunter. Naturally different.”

“Anyone who holds ground on Wulong Mountain has real skill. Zuo Xia’s ability is impressive. By the way, Brother Liu, your skills are impressive too!”

“Brother Tan, you flatter me. What skill do I have? Not worth mentioning.”

“Why be so modest? May I call you Xiaolou from now on?”

“Sure, Brother Tan.”

“Xiaolou, what’s the Western Mountain Hermit’s specialty?”

“I truly don’t know. He kept his distance. Remember, Wulong Mountain isn’t small...”

Just then, Wei Hongqing turned back, interrupting. His expression was grim: “The Hermit excels at arrays. But he couldn’t afford good array plates. I’ve always told myself—if I ever rise, I’ll find him a few fine ones... sigh...”

Liu Xiaolou comforted him: “Brother Wei, don’t worry. The Hermit will survive. We’ll save him.”

Wei Hongqing sighed deeply: “I hope so...”

As they spoke, Zuo Gaofeng ahead suddenly halted, murmuring: “Something’s wrong...”

The others tensed: “What? Lost the trail?”

Zuo Gaofeng said: “Two li without a new trace. Either the thief flew away... or...”

Wei Hongqing snapped alert: “Go back!”

The four quickly retraced their steps. Zuo Gaofeng climbed back to the broken branch, examined it, then said: “The thief climbed this tree, jumped to that one, then that one—no issue...”

Wei Hongqing: “Spread out. Search again!”

Liu Xiaolou looked around and noticed the freshly dug grave where he’d buried Pinggu’s body. The mound seemed slightly higher?

I didn’t pile that much dirt...

He hurried over. Up close, the mound looked unchanged—must’ve been his eyes playing tricks.

He turned to find Wei Hongqing and the others—gone. He froze. “Brother Wei... Brother Tan... Zuo Xia?”

No answer. The forest lay utterly silent.