Mo Cang grew more and more distressed as he spoke, eventually letting out a long sigh toward the sky, looking as though he had lost all will to live.
“Oh, my precious baby, my corpse jar, my inheritance! When will the name of the Ghost King, Mo Cang, ever see the light of day again!”
A Yao patted Mo Cang’s shoulder and coaxed him, “It’s alright. This young man is so talented; he’ll reach the ninth stage in no time.”
“Just have him visit often. Your corpse jar will only have to wait another few hundred years or so.”
“A few hundred years?!”
Mo Cang was indignant. “Do you know how many times you’ll laugh at me in that time? I’ve had enough!”
Chen Zhou looked at the functional description of the black sludge pond on the system panel and said, “Actually, it might not come to that.”
“The black sludge pond is already mine. The inheritances within shouldn't just wander off into the blood pond on their own.”
“Once I return and place the black sludge pond in my territory, I'll arrange for my subordinate gods to go fishing.”
Mo Cang let out a long breath and slapped Chen Zhou’s shoulder, his expression shifting from despair to joy in an instant.
“Good lad! I knew I wasn't wrong about you!”
Mo Cang was in a great mood, but then another thought struck him, and he sighed again.
“Sigh, even though the black sludge pond is in your hands, there’s no guarantee your subordinates can accurately fish up my corpse jar.”
“Kid, let me tell you, after you go back, you must find a good home for it. Not just anyone can use my corpse jar.”
“That corpse jar of mine is a treasure I spent a great deal of effort refining back then.”
Mo Cang gestured with his hands.
“Refined from ten thousand corpses, it can contain ten thousand ghosts and refine resentment. Back then, on the Path of the Underworld, those greater and lesser ghosts would go weak in the knees just hearing my name.”
Yuheng added indifferently from the side, “That’s because your corpse jar was filled with three thousand malevolent ghosts. What ghost wouldn't go weak in the knees seeing that?”
Mo Cang ignored him and continued, “Besides containing ghosts, my corpse jar has another ultimate strength: it can use the corpses of gods and ghosts to forge a death-substitute body composed entirely of materialized death qi.”
“If you have this artifact in hand, you can save your life and escape even if you encounter the top figures of the same rank.”
“And let me tell you—” Mo Cang was about to continue.
Chen Zhou gave him a slight nod. “Rest assured, senior. If I do not fish it up myself, I will certainly find a suitable master for it.”
Mo Cang nodded in satisfaction and gave a few more instructions, which were mostly nonsense like “don't give it to someone with a crooked heart,” “it's best to find someone with a talent for the path of ghosts,” and “never let his former fierce reputation be disgraced.”
Chen Zhou agreed to all of them.
Then, he raised his hand to open the system panel and took out the Jade Grass.
A Yao’s smile suddenly froze.
She stared at that Lingzhi for a long, long time, neither speaking nor moving.
The Lingzhi suddenly lit up, as if someone had lit a lamp inside it. Its cap trembled slightly, emitting faint, low hums.
“This seems to be formed from a part of my corpse after I died.”
A Yao’s expression was complex. Yuheng frowned deeply. “A Yao, shouldn't your corpse be...”
“It should be buried beneath the Sky-Cloud Ladder in the Central Province, right?” A Yao finished for him.
“Most of it is indeed there. But when I fell in the Central Province back then, my body was shattered into many pieces.”
“I can't quite remember exactly how it happened.”
“I only remember that the battle was brutal. As it went on, my body was no longer whole.”
“Some fragments were swallowed by the cracks in the Sky-Cloud Ladder, while others were swept away by the aftershocks of the battle, scattering across various provinces.”
“At that time, the divine path had already collapsed. No one was there to collect my remains. My corpse was buried by time and eroded by the ley lines, slowly transforming into other things.”
She looked at the Lingzhi with a clear, calm gaze.
“This Jade Grass was likely formed from one of my finger bones, but there is no longer any consciousness of mine within it. Only an instinctive power of pollution remains.”
“Young man, where did you find it?”
Chen Zhou grunted in affirmation and said, “I found it beneath the Eternal Scars.”
“This Jade Grass was parasitizing Jianmu at the time, growing alongside clusters of mushrooms and eroding it year after year. It also carried Jianmu’s life aura, which it likely absorbed from the tree.”
As soon as Chen Zhou finished speaking, the tiny branch on his shoulder suddenly lit up.
Jianmu flickered frantically, its emerald light flashing even brighter and more urgently than the Lingzhi’s response to A Yao earlier.
It leaped from Chen Zhou’s shoulder, landing in A Yao’s palm before hopping over to the Lingzhi. Its branches flailed wildly, emitting a series of rapid, rustling sounds.
A Yao was stunned. “Jianmu, what’s wrong?”
Jianmu shook its branches desperately, its emerald light flashing as if it were having a seizure. However, A Yao couldn't understand it, so she could only look at Chen Zhou for help.
Chen Zhou was silent for a moment as the golden dragon in his sea of consciousness translated Jianmu’s words for him.
“Jianmu says that you actually went back to find it a long time ago, A Yao.”
“It says it waited in the depths of the ley lines in Tianchi Province for forty-seven thousand three hundred years. It thought it was alone and that no one had ever come looking for it.”
“It turns out that over forty thousand years ago, you had already landed by its side, turning into a mushroom and growing on it year after year.”
“It says it’s so happy... and yet so sad.”
“It turns out you returned so early and stayed by its side all along, yet it never recognized you and missed out for so, so long.”
After Chen Zhou finished the translation, he waited for the person and the tree to share their moment before asking a very poorly timed question.
“So, is your corpse still useful?”
A Yao was caught off guard and choked, coughing violently.
What kind of question was that?
“I mean it literally,” Chen Zhou explained.
“One of my subordinates really needs this Jade Grass.”
“He also follows the path of plague and filth. This Jade Grass is an eighth-stage evil spirit, and its attributes match his. If he can refine it, it will be of great benefit to his cultivation.”
“Fine.” Although A Yao felt it was a bit strange, she waved her hand.
“Take it and use it.”
“To the dead, a corpse is useless anyway. If it can benefit future generations, it can be considered a merit.”
Chen Zhou nodded. “I thank you on his behalf. However, there is one more thing I hope you can clarify.”
He put the Lingzhi back into the system space.
Yuheng gestured for Chen Zhou to speak freely, as there was no need for much reservation between them.
Chen Zhou asked directly, “Do any of you know what the Battle of Qingtian was actually about?”
A Yao watched the Lingzhi disappear, her expression relaxing as if she had set down a heavy burden. She turned and sat back on the stone by the pond, patting the empty spot beside her to signal Chen Zhou to join her.
Chen Zhou sat down as requested. The little pig shrank back into its pink piglet form and lay at his feet.
“Young man, do you really want to know about the Battle of Qingtian?” A Yao looked at the purple-red sky in the distance, her voice much softer.
Chen Zhou said solemnly, “Yes.”
“Jianmu mentioned a catastrophe that swept through the heavens to me before, but it was vague, saying its rank wasn't high enough to know the details.”
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