Chapter 843: If You’re Going to Kill One Person, Dig Two Graves (1)

Deep in the northern ridge of Dochae Mountain, a carnage that was too horrible to look at had unfolded.

Collapsing army tents sat in a bleak sprawl, and in between them—corpses everywhere. No, things that had been corpses.

There were almost no intact bodies, so it was hard to even call the chopped-up limbs and chunks littering the ground “corpses.”

And in the center of it all, bodies were piled up like a mountain—so much that you could almost believe this was the fate of an army that had been defeated and massacred.

Of course, that mountain of corpses wasn’t something someone had neatly stacked up for disposal.

It was nothing more than the result of dying Five Poison Sect disciples throwing themselves in and crushing the Heavenly Flower Sword under them.

And then, from that mountain of corpses—

A hand twitched.

A survivor. There’s a survivor!

Among those Five Poison Sect disciples who screamed “fight to the last” and didn’t even spare their own lives as they howled for revenge—was there really a survivor?

“Ugh. Doesn’t feel like I slept at all.”

To the Five Poison Sect, it was a bitter thing, but the survivor was the Heavenly Flower Sword.

The reason Qing had closed her eyes while pinned under the pile of bodies was simple.

If any Five Poison Sect remnants were still alive, wouldn’t they show up to collect their people’s corpses?

When you do something, you do it properly. If things had come to this, if she didn’t rip them out by the roots, the “grievance” they talked about—the chain of revenge—would unfold again someday.

Mm. Right.

The way to cut a chain of revenge cleanly isn’t forgiveness. It’s extermination—smashing every last bastard who might come back for revenge.

Of course, it wasn’t only cold-bloodedness that made her spend a night pinned under a mountain of bodies.

There was another reason.

Because I’m exhausted as hell...

Ever since she’d become a true master (Transformation Realm), had she ever been this tired?

Chasing and being chased inside the Five Poison Sect encirclement, getting every kind of unpleasantness dumped on her.

And because it finally made her explode, when she fought Great Yue soldiers she’d practically gone berserk, rampaging without holding back and pouring demonic arts into it.

Then in the final fight with the Five Poison Sect, she’d used Ten Thousand Changes—no, not Ten Thousand Changes, Ten Changes Hundred Flowers—no, Ten Changes is a bit much, so more like Fifty Changes Five Hundred Flowers—until even her internal energy got sucked dry.

And on top of that, she’d been flailing around in the middle of vicious things charging like a pack of dogs—no, literally like a pack of dogs—biting and clinging.

Her internal energy and stamina had both been drained properly for the first time in a while—back in her hometown’s words, she was completely out of juice.

So she’d sleep first!

If she left clumsily and there was some bastard who’d survived twice over, the Five Poison Sect might revive someday in the distant future. Or remnants might come to retrieve bodies. Or Great Yue troops might appear. Or Blood Cult bastards might show up.

If she just kept her eyes closed here, it was perfectly natural. And it was better for ambushing than awkwardly slipping away and hiding somewhere.

With all that, how could she not sleep?

Sure, being pressed under corpses and having corpse-filth soak into her body was gross.

But there was a saying for times like this:

This body’s already been thrown away.

Her whole body was already filthy beyond words—mud crusted everywhere, sweat sticky, and that spicy poison energy clinging over her like a coating.

So what if a little more corpse-filth got added...

Anyway, sometime last night she’d blacked out, and when she opened her eyes—

Morning sunlight was up.

A master was still a master even when tired. If there had been any presence approaching, she would’ve opened her eyes immediately.

The fact that time had been deleted like this meant the Five Poison Sect really had all died overnight.

Mm. Did I even kill half of them?

If you got technical, they’d poisoned themselves too hard and ended up dying on their own—well, if you’re the kind of people who scream about suicidal assaults, that’s what happens.

Now she just had to go to Jinping County, watch what “a Five Poison Sect without Five Poison Sect disciples” looked like, and wait for Diancang Sect support.

But before that—

She couldn’t go in this state.

Soldiers in this era always moved with water.

Meaning: wherever soldiers were stationed, water flowed somewhere nearby.

Sure enough, a small stream ran just outside the clearing—wow. Water. Washing water!

Qing stripped off everything she had on in one go and ran out—

Then, SCREEEECH, she slammed on the brakes.

She wanted to dive in right away, but... mm. Detox first.

If you’re going to soak in a bath, you wash first. You can’t smear poison all over yourself and jump in......

She hauled every pot she could from the cooking tents, scooped water, ran back, and dumped it over herself, rinsing off the poison stuck to her body first.

Qing’s expression was bright as she scrubbed herself, even though she wasn’t normally the clean type.

Still, the pleasure of mud and sweat scraping off like this—people who wash regularly would never understand it. Probably.

This is seriously—killing me...

I should save up filth and go camp out just to wash it off.

After a first rinse, Qing finally splashed into the stream.

The water only came up to her shins, not deep enough to soak completely, but she just lay down flat on the pebble bed anyway—and the current sliding over her whole body felt so cool, wow......

Lying in a stream that barely covered her torso, two huge lumps of flesh rose above the surface like twin islands.

If Ximen Surin had seen it, she would’ve spat fire, screaming that the bitch had to be insane—how could she bare her body in broad morning light—and she would’ve machine-gunned her with endless flicked-forehead strikes.

But right now, in this moment, Qing was feeling perfect freedom in wild nature with no one around.

If she liked it, wasn’t that a good thing?

After soaking in that freshness, she suddenly realized—

Ah, shit. I don’t have clothes.

And there’s no way I can put those rags back on, so... mm. Whatever. No one’s watching. I’ll just find something to throw on real quick.

Qing rummaged through the tents and found the cleanest clothes she could, then put them on.

And then her stomach started screaming for breakfast.

She swallowed hard—Jinping County, I’m going down and ordering everything delicious. Today I’m clearing out every inn. I’m stripping them bare—just assume it’s that kind of day.

Oh—wait. Money—

Shit. I knew this would happen.

After she’d left most belongings at the inn in Gaegu County, Qing had only brought two gold taels as simple travel money.

But the clothes she’d worn before were originally rags—and now they were shredded scraps you couldn’t even call “clothes.”

Meaning the coin pouch tied to her waist had vanished somewhere, at some point, and she had no idea when or how.

It wasn’t like she could comb an entire mountainside—this tropical rainforest—searching for it.

So what, just eat the food in the tents for breakfast, and that’s one meal, then go to Jinping County with not a single coin?

Lunch? Dinner? A place to sleep?

What do I do—return of the flower-beggar?

If she was just observing a Five Poison Sect with no Five Poison Sect disciples, maybe she could live like that—

But Jegal Ihyeon was going to show up bringing people from Diancang Sect. She couldn’t let them see her like a beggar...

So what now?

Then Qing’s gaze drifted to one place.

To the mountain of Five Poison Sect corpses.

They’d said even if they died, they’d die while pursuing revenge—and they really had died chasing only revenge.

They hadn’t accomplished revenge at all—mm, maybe they were the type who thought the process mattered more than the result.

Either way, wish fulfilled. Regardless of success, wasn’t it me who granted their desire to “die pursuing revenge”?

Then couldn’t I take the price for that?

*****

And so—Jinping!

Jinping County was a city surrounded on three sides by Dochae Mountain, and it had developed thanks to sitting on the Tea-Horse Road.

But the streets were fairly empty.

Apparently, because of the strange plague, merchants had dwindled and the place was going through a rough time.

“Good grief—because of that Bai people smallpox, merchants don’t come through at all these days. It’s killing us.”

The inn waiter groaned.

Of course, inn waiters were professionally expressive.

They’d groan from a single mosquito bite, and if you shoved a few coins at them they’d treat you like a savior.

People like that caught theatrics as an occupational disease.

Still, the part about the inn being empty and “killing us” did carry some real sincerity.

That was why he kept hovering near Qing, wiping an already-clean table one more time.

On Qing’s table, several empty dishes were already stacked.

After a combative meal—she’d eaten a huge amount.

If there was a hell after death and the dead could look up at the living world, the Five Poison Sect disciples would’ve had a front-row seat to the sight of their money feeding their enemy until she was full.

Anyway, the inn waiter kept hovering.

With no customers around, he was circling this big spender, hoping she might open her pouch again.

So Qing tested him lightly.

“The Five Poison Sect knows poison and medicine well, don’t they? And Dochae Mountain has good medicinal herbs too, but they keep it all to—”

“WAAAAGH! Guest—shh!”

The inn waiter clamped down on Qing’s words and hurriedly scanned around.

Not that there was much to scan. It was that awkward mid-morning between breakfast and lunch, and even the few lodgers didn’t bother occupying tables.

“You must be careful what you say. What if someone hears you?”

“Hm. Is it that serious? Anyway, if you know poison, you know medicine too. Haven’t you heard anything about treatments? Remedies?”

“Well, that...”

The inn waiter blinked in an unnatural way.

He wanted a little “encouragement.”

When Qing slipped him a handful of coins, he looked left and right—again, even though there was nobody—and leaned in to whisper in Qing’s ear.

“Actually, these past few days, the martial artists who come collecting haven’t shown up at all. And they’ve locked the main gate tight, so people are saying maybe the strange plague has spread badly inside the Five Poison Sect too.”

Even though there were no customers, he still whispered—so the Five Poison Sect really did scare him.

But separately, it was information worth exactly the coins she’d paid for it: nothing special.

Mm. Of course. The Five Poison Sect martial artists who’d come collecting are all in heaven—no, in the ground—down in hell right now.

And the main gate being locked made sense too—inside was crawling with Blood Cult. A Blood Cult den.

How could they show something like that four-legged, running-around, weird suspicious freak in front of others?

Looks like I have to move my own feet for this.

But where do I even start?

Then Qing’s eyes flicked to the plates she’d emptied.

Right. Blood Cult bastards still have to eat to live, so there had to be suppliers providing ingredients.

If she watched the amount of food being brought in, she could estimate how many Blood Cult people were inside the Five Poison Sect main base.

But the person delivering ingredients could also be someone tied to the Blood Cult, so... mm. What do I do?

This time is reconnaissance, no matter what.

Sure, there was a minor scuffle on the way.

And inside that minor scuffle, a slightly more minor incident happened where the Five Poison Sect got exterminated.

But more important than that was cutting the Blood Cult out cleanly.

Even if Diancang Sect stepped in, she needed to gather as much information as possible to minimize the damage.

So first—

She’d go take a look at what the Five Poison Sect main base even looked like.

*****

Jinping County was a smaller city than it looked.

The reason it looked big was because there were a lot of warehouses nobody lived in.

They called the long mountain range to the west the Tea-Horse Road—wasn’t this the mountain region that produced the Central Plains’ best tea leaves?

So those were warehouses for drying tea.

And the Five Poison Sect main base—

Mm. It’s big, all right.

A Five Poison Sect compound wrapped in a high wall about one zhang tall, like a fortress wall.

It looked like a citadel planted in the middle of the city.

The main gate was on the south, and there were several small gates in the other walls too—she noted their positions.

Among them, there were two gates likely used for ingredient deliveries.

They were side gates for servants, but they had doors on both sides and were wide enough for carts, so they were easy to spot.

First, she had to watch deliveries.

If she went around asking suspicious questions, it might reach the Blood Cult’s ears at any moment.

So she decided to camp out at a tea shop near the auxiliary gate and kill time.

When she saw a supplier, she’d quietly follow and identify them first.

“Owner? Snacks—mm. For now, give me every type you’ve got.”

“Pardon?”

“Quickly.”

She sipped tea and nibbled snacks—how much time passed like that?

Call lunch “snacks,” fine.

The tea shop owner had been nervous at first, but once Qing paid a mid-session tab, he started smiling from ear to ear.

Then it happened.

Across the street, a cheap eatery—basically a rice-shop, a place people in the Central Plains ate cheaply.

A worker came out straining under a big basin and dumped it into a huge barrel set at the mouth of the alley beside the shop.

Suddenly, an old memory rose up in Qing.

Right. After meal hours, they always dumped food waste—professional military terms called it “slop”—into the slop barrel beside the shop.

It was also beggars’ food.

Of course, for a plague wretch—a plague-ridden beggar—it was a feast on paper only.

If a plague wretch touched the slop barrel, they treated it like the entire barrel was contaminated.

So you’d get beaten just for looking at it.

Still, if you got lucky and the timing was perfect, and there were no other beggars around, you could scoop a big haul and run.

Then you didn’t have to fill your belly with bugs or tree bark.

Back then, one bag of food waste made you so happy.

Just then, a young beggar ran over with a beaming grin and scooped up an armful from the slop barrel into a worn sack.

Yeah. Just like that. That’s what made you happy.

And then—

“Th-that! That plague wretch bastard!”

Huh?

The young beggar jolted like he was about to jump straight up, startled out of his skin—then bolted immediately—

THUD!

The young beggar went down hard, tripping over someone’s foot mid-run.

Looking at the bastard’s clothes—mm. Yeah, people who pick fights with beggars are usually other beggar bastards.

Just with a thick club in hand.

“You plague-ridden rat bastard, you’re touching the elders’ food again? You piece of shit—didn’t I tell you if I catch you again you won’t even have bones left to collect? Hah, you really don’t take words like words, do you? You’re dying today.”

Qing’s eyebrow twitched.

No, look at that bastard’s mouth.

For some reason it doesn’t feel like someone else’s business—like I’m getting sucked in without even trying.