Chapter 90: Container

Qingwa was skinny and dark-skinned, his body covered in scars—old wounds piled atop older ones.

He was the leader of those children; when they couldn’t get enough to eat, he’d take them to nearby towns to beg, and if begging failed, he’d steal small things—getting caught meant brutal beatings.

At this moment, he sat in Kuangcheng’s small hut, nervously watching the man before him.

“Qingwa, there’s something I want to ask you. You must answer truthfully, yes?”

After long thought, Qingwa finally nodded.

Children his age were already aware of the world, and he’d spent years scraping by on the streets—he’d long since learned to tell good from evil.

He could still tell who was kind and who was cruel.

These past days, he knew Kuangcheng had been giving out porridge to everyone and even found a physician to treat him; his guard had been low.

Seeing him nod, Kuangcheng pointed to the animal-bone pendant he wore: “Where did you get this thing?”

Qingwa stared at the pendant, a flicker of panic crossing his face: “I found it… I found it…”

“Where did you find it?”

“At the village entrance back home.”

Kuangcheng couldn’t help brushing his messy hair: “You saw the younger brother who came to see you just now—he’s missing his sister. Your pendant looks just like hers. He’s desperate to find her. Qingwa, I know you’re a good kid. You fight all over town just so your little brothers can eat.”

After a long silence, Qingwa lifted his eyes: “That day, there were countless carts parked on the open ground just beyond our village entrance.”

Kuangcheng drew a deep breath and sat up straight: “And then?”

“We knew big carts like those belonged to merchant caravans—they usually carried food. So we thought we’d steal something to fill our stomachs, but we checked several carts and found nothing.”

As Qingwa spoke, deep terror flashed in his eyes; his thin shoulders trembled continuously: “Then we reached the fourth cart. We pulled back the cover and saw… many strange children…”

Ji You, who had been guarding the door, turned his head at these words.

If the pendant truly was found by Qingwa, the clue meant nothing—but now he mentioned children.

And what they’d been searching for all along were the missing infants.

Kuangcheng glanced at Ji You, then turned back to Qingwa: “What do you mean by ‘strange children’?”

“Their skin was red, like they’d been steamed. All had wide eyes, sharp teeth, black smoke puffing from their nostrils. They didn’t cry or scream—like they were dead, yet still breathing.”

Qingwa had never attended school and knew little; he could only describe what he’d seen with simple, pale words.

Yet even this bare description was enough to send chills down the spine.

Ji You and Kuangcheng exchanged a look, then Ji You asked: “Did you take the pendant from those children?”

“The others were terrified—they said the babies were born of demons from the mountains. But I wasn’t afraid. I was their leader—if I panicked, they’d stop following me. So I gathered courage, yanked this pendant off one of the kids, and brought it back to show them.”

Kuangcheng fell silent for a long while, then asked: “Where did the carts go?”

Qingwa thought: “The carts only stayed at the village entrance one night. The next day, they were gone.”

Ji You remembered the black qi that had tainted him, and turned: “Qingwa, when you took the pendant, did you touch any of the children’s bodies?”

“I… I touched one, just once.”

“...”

Kuangcheng sat motionless, head bowed, overwhelmed by these sudden, bizarre revelations, while Ji You had already begun acting.

He first sent Huwa back outside the city, then took Kuangcheng to a bookstore and bought a map of Zhongzhou.

Because the Qiling Ruins had recently revealed a divine relic, such maps were everywhere and easy to obtain.

The two then went nowhere else, sitting in the bookstore, studying the map intently.

When they saw the relative positions of the Qiling entrance, Hongshan Mine, and Baishui River, Ji You’s brow never relaxed again.

“Baihe Village lies to the south, separated from my mountain entry point by many layers of mountains—it’s not on the route into the mountains.”

Kuangcheng fell silent for a long while: “Could there be another path?”

Probably not. After long thought, Ji You slowly arrived at an answer.

When he and Yuanchen rescued Yuancaiwei, they’d seen the Yanxing Relay Station’s carts on the northern slope of the central mountain—so the infants must have been brought in from the north.

But Qingwa hadn’t lied.

No one, especially not a child, could fabricate such a detailed story under sudden questioning.

Therefore, the strange infants Qingwa saw weren’t being brought in—they were being taken out.

If the infants entered the ruins normal, but emerged as Qingwa described, what did that mean?

His greatest confusion after visiting Qiling had been that everything seemed to end after the demon Daoist’s failed ascension.

Yet the infant disappearances had always remained outside this entire chain.

He’d first thought the infants were kidnapped for alchemical use, but later found no trace of blood in Yuancaiwei’s crucible, and Yuancaiwei had never seen any infants.

Only now did he realize: the infants were brought into the ruins—and then brought back out.

The ruins must contain a divine relic—perhaps it had another name, originating from the Ancient Age, from the Descendants.

Otherwise, the demon Daoist, with no lineage or tradition, could never have possessed the power to breach the Immortal Gate.

The fact that the young nobles who entered all broke through their realms proved this.

But later, everyone discovered that nothing from the ruins—neither divine relics nor spirit herbs—could be taken out.

Like the Zhuguo fruit Ji You had taken from inside: even sealed in a storage gourd, it had exploded into black ash.

Yet according to Qingwa’s account, someone had found a way to smuggle things out of the ruins—and the missing infants were likely the vessels.

Ji You stared at the map’s marking of the Zheng family’s holdings, and the threads of his thoughts began to clarify.

Before the Tian Shu Academy reopened Hongshan Mine, it had always been under the Zheng family’s control.

They’d accidentally opened the ruins by breaching a mine shaft, glimpsed the mysterious divine relic—but found they couldn’t take anything out.

Yet unwilling to give up, they kept trying, and after countless attempts, discovered the infants’ usefulness…

He didn’t know the specifics of those experiments, but he knew they were beyond any ordinary human’s capacity to endure.

In short, they succeeded.

So these infants must have been sent to the Zheng family…

Because Yan Shuyi said the Zheng family kept many demonic breeds—ones that could speak human speech—but he didn’t know how they were used.

Only that infants used as vessels were highly toxic—and Qingwa, who went to steal, had been tainted by it.

Then, because someone smuggled something foreign from the ruins, the demonic breeds lost control, no longer bound by the ruins’ constraints, plunging the world into chaos and drawing the attention of the Immortal Sects.

Seeing they could no longer hide it, the Zheng patriarch set up a grand scheme of karmic fire to burn humans, triggering a shocking atrocity.

“Ji Brother, have you figured something out?”

Kuangcheng’s voice broke the silence.

After a moment’s thought, Ji You shook his head: “No. Nothing at all.”

“Do you think Huwa’s sister is still alive?”

“Huwa’s sister is probably dead. This matter should end here…”

Kuangcheng looked up at Ji You, startled.

He knew Ji You—knew he wasn’t the type to stay silent. Even if he was low in cultivation and powerless, hearing Qingwa’s story, he’d have cursed loudly.

Yet now he was unnervingly calm, using the phrase “should end here.”

After long hesitation, he said nothing.

He trusted his friend—the same Ji Young Master who, in Yuyang County, spat blood yet told him, “Since ancient times, who escapes death?”

If he was hiding something, it meant Ji You believed Kuangcheng shouldn’t know.

In truth, Kuangcheng was right—he wasn’t foolish, and Ji You was sharp.

The idea that infants could serve as vessels—even if just a guess—must never reach another’s ears.

The lure of a divine relic was too great; the fact that noble youths rushed in despite the danger proved they’d do anything for it.

If Qingyun’s world could birth one Zheng family, it could birth another.

And Kuangcheng himself was a reckless fool—he’d meddled everywhere in Yuyang County.

If he learned of this, he’d be dragged into the conflicts among cultivators—but he was just an ordinary man, with no cultivation to protect him.

So no one could know. Not even him.

Ji You had few true friends in this world; Kuangcheng was one. He was sometimes stubborn, but his stubbornness was admirable.

Think of last autumn—he’d run tirelessly, seeking Ji You and then petitioning the Fang family, all for a cause unrelated to the Qiu family. What if he knew Ji You’s suspicions?

This matter was too vast. He didn’t want Kuangcheng to die because of it.

The only good news these past six months: infant disappearances had ceased in the capital.

Ji You only hoped the Zheng patriarch’s failed ascension was truly the end—that everything was buried, and no one would ever again seek the ruins, allowing the world some peace.

“Is becoming immortal really so wonderful?”

Hearing Kuangcheng’s murmured words, Ji You replied: “Immortality grants eternal life. Once you’ve tasted power, you crave immortality forever.”

Kuangcheng stared at the gloomy sky: “Why don’t they cherish the world they already have?”

“Because they can become immortal, ascend to the Immortal Realm, gain ultimate freedom. People in the village all think the same—they dream of leaving for the city.”

Ji You stood up: “You said before—when we returned safely, we’d have a meal together.”

Kuangcheng snapped back to reality, looking up at him: “Today?”

“Today. Invite Miss Wei and Yuanchen. All of us.”

“We barely know Miss Wei. Three men inviting her to dine with us—wouldn’t that be improper? People might gossip.”

Ji You thought: You’re surprisingly cautious. “Then have Miss Wei invite a female friend to join her.”

Kuangcheng stared at the pendant he’d taken from Qingwa, clenching it in his palm: “I’ll go check on Huwa first, then speak to Miss Wei and ask her to invite someone.”

“No need. I’ll have Yuanchen’s elder sister accompany her.”

“?”

Kuangcheng paused: “Brother Ji really wants to marry two? That’s not unusual in Qingyun’s world—the daughter of the Dan Sect holds noble status, so she can be the principal wife, while that immortal lady who came earlier can be the concubine, allowing the alchemist to treat commoners as well.”

Ji You glanced at him, thinking: You have no idea what you’re talking about.

In terms of status, there may be no woman in this world more noble than Yan Shuyi—not even Yuan Caiwei could compare.

Make her my concubine? Are you joking? My seven-foot frame isn’t even enough for Lingjian Mountain to pierce through.

Besides, do you think Yan Shuyi would ever agree to be a concubine? She’d kick me to death.

Still, he decided not to tell Kuangcheng Yan Shuyi’s true identity—otherwise, this scholar would once again beg him to open his essence and fluids for the sake of the people.

In his understanding, Ji You marrying these two women would mean gaining the backing of two major sects—he’d only need to offer his body, without even having to outlive the abbots.

But the real reason Ji You changed his mind was something else entirely.

Wei Rui is very likely Wei Li’s granddaughter…

Because a few days ago, when he went outside the city to find Kuangcheng, he had seen a group of aristocratic youths from the capital and overheard their conversation.

The woman in the carriage was a princess of the Chong Prince’s mansion; the man he knocked off his horse was the son of the Minister of Revenue.

Coupled with Wei Rui’s surname, her identity was now confirmed.

Kuangcheng currently serves in the Si Xian Jian and is sworn enemies with the Qin Xian faction—if they meet like this, it won’t end well.

This fool doesn’t even dare ask their names—he probably hasn’t realized it yet.

Formerly, Wei Xiang was at the height of his power, representing a thorn planted by the Immortal Sects into the Xia court; Ji You feared he’d be too reckless and get himself into danger, so he sent him to court women to counterbalance the Qin Xian faction’s threat.

But now, the Immortal Sects and the aristocratic families are mutually suspicious, and even the Qin Xian faction feels unsteady—so there’s no point anymore.

But it was still his first love; Ji You didn’t know how to tell him this.

(End of month—requesting monthly votes!! Also recommending a novel: “Ming Dynasty: Emperor of Longevity? Your Majesty, Please Call Yourself Crown Prince”)

(End of Chapter)