Chapter 115: The Harvest

After the two completed their transaction, the others stepped forward one by one to hand over their shares.

The Divine Monk looked at the group and smiled, "Do not think this thirty percent cut is unjustified. If I had not employed my secret techniques to obscure our trails, you would have been apprehended long ago."

There are countless secret tracking arts used by experts. Some target the soul directly, while others track by the scent of hair. Then there is the most mysterious art of all: the manipulation of heavenly secrets. With these, finding a target is effortless. Lu Qian felt that thirty percent was a reasonable price to pay.

The Divine Monk then handed Lu Qian a stone tablet. It was two fingers wide, gray, and devoid of any markings. "This is a communication talisman. You can use it to transmit information." Lu Qian channeled his vital water energy into it, and the tablet emitted a faint glow.

Few people were present: the stall owner, the Divine Monk, the Smoke Woman, and Old Snake. There was also a man exuding a cold, misty aura and a short, stunted individual. Everyone wore masks, identified only by their physiques or the nicknames they used. No one introduced themselves. The organization had no name; it was merely a loose collective bound by profit. Those remaining were those willing to surrender thirty percent of their loot. Others, perhaps more timid, felt that one successful job was enough. Before every operation, the stall owner would contact a group of unfamiliar cultivators, partly to make up the numbers and partly to entice new recruits.

After bidding farewell, Lu Qian circled the area a dozen times. Satisfied that he was not being followed, he flew back to his cave dwelling.

Inside, he lit a candle of ghostly green flame. This fire, known as Ghost Sandalwood, was made from human blood and souls; it possessed the property of nourishing the spirit. The green light danced on Lu Qian’s face, casting shifting, unsettling shadows. Behind him stood rows of eerie paper figurines; an ordinary person would have been frightened to death at the sight.

With a clatter, a mountain of miscellaneous items spilled out, nearly filling the room. Bronze Dharma coins radiated a dim, eerie luster that dazzled the eyes. Lu Qian made a rough estimate: fifteen thousand coins in total—a staggering sum. Beyond the currency, there were rare medicinal herbs and minerals: naturally grown purple ganoderma, fleeceflower root, snake-scale fruit, and man-made man-face flowers, among others. There were also Dharma artifacts and robes belonging to Qi-refining and spirit-nourishing cultivators. The total value was approximately thirty-five thousand Dharma coins. Earning over thirty thousand in a single night was tantamount to robbery—no, it *was* robbery.

One large chest, reaching half the height of a person, caught Lu Qian’s eye. It was forged from bronze with white copper rivets, tightly sealed and covered in winding, twisted talismans. An aura of evil emanated from it. Four large characters were inscribed on the lid: "Shì Ròu" (Flesh of Vision).

"Shì Ròu!" Lu Qian exclaimed in surprise. This was an extremely evil substance that grew in places of potent geomantic energy. Though formed in areas of concentrated earth essence, it gathered all the malice of the earth’s veins. According to the annotations in the *Classic of the Southern Mountains (Overseas)*: "The gathered flesh looks like ox liver and has two eyes. Eating it does not diminish it; it regenerates as before." It was somewhat like a *taisui* (flesh fungus), but it was not a plant. It was a biological entity; its flesh could be harvested and would grow back, and consuming it granted strength. It seemed linked to ancient emperors, as traces of it had been found near their imperial tombs.

"Should I refine it entirely, or use it as an external avatar?" Lu Qian hesitated. Refining it would certainly accelerate his physical cultivation, and combined with the Blood Essence Demon Pill, it would greatly speed up the process of refining the body. Both his Yin spirit and physical form would enter the Spirit Nourishing (Whole Body) stage, making his cultivation far superior to others of the same rank. After all, bloodline advancement always birthed new supernatural abilities—his Taiyin Golden Pupils and Ethyl-wood Spirit Thunder were already formidable. But using it as an external avatar for his Yin spirit was also tempting, as his paper figurines were too fragile to withstand heavy attacks.

Ultimately, Lu Qian chose a compromise: he would use it as an avatar while harvesting portions of its flesh for cultivation. After all, the Shì Ròu could grow infinitely.

He opened the chest, and a wave of Yin energy rushed out. Boom! Black mist erupted, revealing an ox-liver-colored ball of flesh inside. In the center of the mass, two eyeballs were embedded. They looked like human eyes, though the whites were covered in bloodshot veins. The eyes glared at Lu Qian with venomous hatred. A murderous aura filled the room, and Lu Qian felt as if he had fallen into a demon’s den, surrounded by clawing monsters.

These crude illusions could not deceive Lu Qian. He brushed them away like dust from a mirror. Opening his eyes, he saw the flesh ball floating before him. It stretched elastically, forming a giant curtain, attempting to swallow him. Its eyes shimmered with a malicious, gleeful cold light.

Lu Qian dodged the attack and condensed a cinnabar talisman in the void, striking it into the body of the Shì Ròu. *Bang!* A large chunk of flesh fell to the ground, twitching wildly as the emotions in its eyes faded into dullness. This cinnabar seal was a method used by cultivators to control living things; once marked, the creature could be killed with a single thought. Lu Qian immediately wiped away its intelligence. Its emotions were too chaotic and malevolent; it seemed to harbor an inexplicable hatred for all living things.

*Whoosh!*

His Yin spirit entered the mass. The flesh on the ground writhed, slowly manifesting features and limbs until it became a sallow-skinned man, identical in appearance to Lu Qian. He examined his new body with interest. A sensation he had never experienced before washed over him. These eyes were fascinating; the world he saw was only in shades of red—dead objects were pale red, living things were fire-red, and he could see for a hundred miles.

*Whoosh!*

The avatar moved like a fish in water, sinking into the earth and emerging on the other side. This avatar possessed three abilities: earth-shifting, heightened vision, and immense vitality. Unlike other avatars that died if their vital points were struck, the Shì Ròu could only be destroyed if divided into dozens or hundreds of pieces. This specimen was still quite young, likely only a few decades old. It was said that a millennium-old Shì Ròu was truly immortal.

After hiding his spoils, Lu Qian went to the stables and rode his Striding Wave Beast out. As the Deputy Deacon of Alchemy, he was in charge of the alchemy warehouse and strictly monitored the entry of materials every month.

Deep within an unknown secret realm stood a great gate. As he stood before it, a flash of red light swept over him, and the gate slowly opened. Lu Qian had recently learned why the Daoist of Deer Terrace hated him. Only Lu Qian could open the warehouse now, and he had cost the others a significant amount of illicit profit.

After a simple inspection revealed nothing unusual, he walked out of the warehouse.

"You can't even do this simple task? You waste of space, how many materials have you squandered!" A shout of reprimand came from nearby. Lu Qian turned to see the Alchemy Steward, Yang Xing, berating a newcomer. Yang Xing looked pale; he had not expected the new alchemist to be so incompetent. The materials were gone, yet nothing had been refined. With the deadline for submission approaching, if he couldn't deliver, he would be in trouble.

"My subordinate is new to handling the 'Ghost Placenta' herb. The steps were correct, but I just couldn't refine it!" the alchemist replied, sweating profusely.

"What is the problem?" Lu Qian stepped forward to ask.

"Deacon Yulong," Yang Xing hesitated, then bowed in respect. He explained the situation to Lu Qian.

"The Ghost Placenta is the placenta of a stillborn infant; it is extremely fierce. Try processing it with cinnabar before refining, and add the Ghost Placenta at the start of the process, letting the True Fire temper it for longer," Lu Qian advised.

"That's it! Thank you, Deacon Yulong!" Yang Xing exhaled in relief; this was a huge help. Yang Xing recalled that Lu Qian had once been famous for his alchemy skills—he was truly extraordinary. It was a pity he had offended powerful people. Thinking of this, Yang Xing wondered if he should say something, but remained silent.