316: Chapter 314 Ominous Signs Lurk

Ning Yuanzhou's smile froze on his face.

His mouth hung open, his eyes widened, and his complexion turned from rosy to deathly pale, and then from pale to ashen.

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but swallowed it back down.

His wife held their child, staring at him blankly, her lips trembling.

The commoners in the temple also fell silent, everyone's gaze landing on Ning Yuanzhou.

They waited for him to speak, waited for him to make a choice.

Ning Yuanzhou lowered his head, staring at the blood-soaked earth on the ground, saying nothing.

Yun Ming stood there, waiting quietly.

The twilight deepened, and a wind blew in from outside the mountain pass, carrying the scent of blood.

No one spoke. Ning Yuanzhou never opened his mouth.

He didn't dare to choose, and he didn't dare to gamble.

He didn't know if what Yun Ming said was true or false. What if Yun Ming was telling the truth? What if the map of mountains and rivers really couldn't hold any more? If he chose the commoners, what would happen to his own family? If he chose himself, then the reputation of loving the people like his own children, which he had painstakingly built up over the years, would be completely ruined.

He kept his head down, trembling all over, unable to say a single word. His wife held the child, looking at his profile, her eyes filled with shock and disappointment. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but closed it again.

Finally, Ning Yuanzhou gritted his teeth.

The Great Liang Kingdom was gone, Linan City was gone; the reputation, official position, and connections he had painstakingly built up for half his life were all gone. What use did he have for a good reputation anymore? Survival was the most important thing.

He stood up, turned around, and looked at the commoners in the temple. His eyes were red—not from crying, but from ruthlessness. "I choose my family." His voice wasn't loud, but it was very clear.

The temple instantly erupted into chaos.

"Ning Yuanzhou! Do you have any conscience left?!"

"We followed you all the way here, and you're actually abandoning us to run away on your own?!"

"Are you still our local magistrate? Are you worthy of us?!"

"Lord Ning, you can't do this! We still have children!"

Ning Yuanzhou ignored them. He turned to pull his wife and child, walking toward the direction where Yun Ming had left. The commoners rushed out, blocking his path. Someone grabbed his collar, someone yanked his sleeve, and someone hugged his leg. An old woman knelt on the ground, clutching his pant leg tightly, her fingernails digging into his calf, blood flowing down his trousers.

Ning Yuanzhou shook his leg a few times but couldn't shake her off. Growing anxious, he kicked the old woman away. The old woman fell to the ground, her forehead striking a stone, blood flowing freely. The commoners grew even more enraged; some lunged forward to beat him, a fist smashing into his face, and another fist slamming into his chest.

Ning Yuanzhou was beaten back repeatedly, nose bleeding profusely, his eye socket bruised.

His wife screamed, holding their child and hiding to the side, while his son wailed in terror.

More and more people joined in, with fists, feet, and stones all raining down on Ning Yuanzhou. Ning Yuanzhou curled up on the ground, shielding his head, screaming in agony.

His wife wanted to come rescue him, but she was pushed to the ground; the child was thrown aside, crying even harder.

Yun Ming stood on the distant ridge, quietly watching all of this. He didn't move, didn't intervene, and didn't leave. He just stood there like a statue.

Ning Yuanzhou was beaten to the point of near-death. His nose was broken, several of his ribs were fractured, and his left arm was bent at an unnatural angle. His mouth was full of blood, several of his teeth had been knocked out, and his eyes were so swollen he couldn't open them. Sprawled on the ground, he could no longer make a sound, only able to emit low, beast-like groans.

Then, a bizarre power erupted from within him. It was not spiritual energy, nor Demonic Qi, but a grayish-black power carrying a putrid stench. That power suddenly exploded outward, blasting away all the commoners surrounding him. Several people crashed into the walls, collapsing a large section of the already ruined structure; several fell to the ground, spitting blood, unable to get up for a long time; and one person was sent flying seven or eight Zhang away, slamming into a large tree, their spine broken, paralyzed on the ground, motionless.

Ning Yuanzhou crawled up from the ground. His broken arm healed at a speed visible to the naked eye, his broken nose snapped back into place on its own, and his missing teeth grew back. His eyes were no longer black but had turned blood-red, with a grayish-black flame dancing deep within his pupils. The veins on his face bulged, and black patterns could be faintly seen moving beneath his skin.

Yun Ming's brow furrowed. His Divine Sense swept out, scanning Ning Yuanzhou's body. The grayish-black aura was mottled and chaotic, like a chaotic blend of countless different powers. That was not spiritual energy, nor Demonic Qi, but Devilish Qi. The Wanling Guixu Scroll—the Demonic Technique used by that Old Ancestor of the Heavenly Demon Hall to refine the common people of an entire kingdom. Yun Ming was all too familiar with it.

Ning Yuanzhou had cultivated the Wanling Guixu Scroll.

Yun Ming floated down from the ridge and landed in front of Ning Yuanzhou. Ning Yuanzhou raised his head and saw Yun Ming; the blood-red in his eyes receded slightly, replaced by a near-frenzied pleading.

"Master... Master, save me... Take us away... I beg you..." His voice was raspy, like a leaking bellows.

Yun Ming did not speak, only looking at him.

Ning Yuanzhou looked into Yun Ming's eyes. In those eyes, there was no anger, no intent to kill, only a cold, all-penetrating scrutiny.

His pleading choked in his throat, unable to make a single sound.

He knew that Yun Ming would not take him away. No matter what he chose, Yun Ming would not take him away.

A twisted, hysterical expression appeared on his face.

"Why! Why won't you save me! I acknowledged you as my Master, and how many things have I done for you!"

His voice grew louder and shriller, as if he wanted to vent all the resentment he had accumulated over the years.

"That bitch Ah Yuan, I begged her to teach me to Cultivate, but she refused! She said something about my talent being insufficient, something about my Foundation being unstable—she just didn't want to teach me! She was afraid I would surpass her!"

Yun Ming's gaze grew even colder. Ning Yuanzhou was still cursing, cursing Yun Ming, cursing Ah Yuan, and cursing the unfairness of the heavens. He had already gone mad, or perhaps he just didn't want to pretend anymore.

Yun Ming reached out and pressed his hand against the top of Ning Yuanzhou's head. Soul Search.

Ning Yuanzhou's body trembled violently, his eyes rolled back, and he foamed at the mouth. His memories flashed past Yun Ming's eyes like a revolving lantern.

Ten years ago. After witnessing the methods of Yun Ming and Ah Yuan, a seed was planted in Ning Yuanzhou's heart. He was unwilling—unwilling to remain a Mortal, unwilling to watch Ah Yuan grow stronger day by day while he could only grow older day by day.

He began to search for Immortals and seek the Dao everywhere, not daring to do so openly, only in secret. He sent his trusted aides to various places to inquire, and as long as he heard of any place with Immortals, miraculous encounters, or Cultivation Techniques, he would obtain them at any cost.

The Great Liang Kingdom was a vassal of the Zifu Immortal Dynasty, and the imperial family knew a little about the cultivation world, but not much. After he married the eldest daughter of the Marquis Anping's residence, he heard some news from his father-in-law, learning of the existence of the Zifu Immortal Dynasty, the existence of Tianyuan City, and the vastness of the cultivation world.

His heart grew even more fervent.

Then, someone brought him a Cultivation Technique. That person was a heavily injured Cultivator who had fled from the Ximing Continent, possessing a cultivation of the Early Stage of Foundation Establishment, carrying a ruined ancient book. That person said this was an ancient Demonic Technique with an extremely fast cultivation speed, where one year could equal ten years of hard cultivation, asking for nothing other than using this Cultivation Technique to save his own life.

Ning Yuanzhou did not hesitate, watching that Cultivator die and then taking the Cultivation Technique. The Wanling Guixu Scroll.

He couldn't understand those profound formulas, but he had Ah Yuan.

He pretended to be curious, pretending to be interested in Ah Yuan's cultivation life, and asked her what those formulas meant. Ah Yuan, thinking he was caring for her, explained them to him in detail. He had no Daoist scriptures, nor did he have Ah Yuan's talent, but his heart was more ruthless than anyone's. He began to Cultivate in secret, using the Wanling Guixu Scroll to devour the Qi and blood of living beings. He didn't dare to do it openly, only stealthily. Occasionally, he would capture a few lone travelers, buy a few slaves, or dig up newly buried corpses from mass graves. His progress was very slow, but he was in no hurry. He had plenty of time.

Ning Wanqing was the first to discover his secret.

That night, he was cultivating in his study and accidentally let slip a trace of Devilish Qi. Ning Wanqing passed by the study, smelled a strange stench, and pushed the door open. She saw her brother sitting in a pool of blood, with a shriveled corpse lying beside him. She screamed, and Ning Yuanzhou lunged forward to cover her mouth. She didn't scream again, only looking at him with terrified, disbelieving eyes. Ning Yuanzhou begged her not to tell anyone. She agreed. But her gaze changed; she no longer looked at him, no longer spoke to him, and wouldn't even eat at the same table. Ning Yuanzhou grew afraid, fearing that one day she wouldn't be able to resist telling someone. He didn't hesitate for long; on a rainy night, he knocked on Ning Wanqing's door. The moment Ning Wanqing opened the door, his hands choked her neck. She didn't struggle, nor did she even shed tears. She just looked at him with a calm, relieved gaze, as if she didn't know him.

Later on, his superiors sent him to investigate a prince's plot to rebel, but before he could uncover anything, the disaster erupted.

He fled back to Linan City, taking his entire family to hide in the Mountain God Temple. Ah Yuan was outside, using the Magic Treasure her Master had given her, risking her life to block those demonic Cultivators. She knew she was burning her Lifespan, and she knew she might die. She didn't care. She had promised Ning Yuanzhou that she would protect them. She would not break her word.

Yun Ming withdrew his hand. Ning Yuanzhou slumped to the ground, his body twitching, foaming at the mouth, his eyes vacant. His memories were completely scrambled; after being subjected to the Soul Search, his Divine Soul was shattered. He wasn't dead, but he was in a state worse than death. He had become a crippled person, an idiot who could only drool.

Yun Ming looked down at him. He didn't speak, didn't scold him, and didn't even hate him. He merely raised his hand and struck down with a palm. Ning Yuanzhou's body exploded, turning into a cloud of blood mist. As the blood mist dispersed, nothing was left on the ground. His wife screamed and lunged forward, but Yun Ming didn't look at her. He raised his hand, a flash of spiritual light flickered, and Ning Yuanzhou's wife and son also turned into blood mist.

Yun Ming turned around, looking at the commoners slumped on the ground, shrinking into corners, or hiding behind trees. They were not dead; the power Ning Yuanzhou had unleashed had only shaken and injured them, but was not fatal. Those who collapsed the walls, fell to the ground spitting blood, or broke a few bones were all still alive. They looked at Yun Ming, and then at the blood mist that had not yet fully dispersed; no one spoke. No one dared to speak. A woman opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but was muffled by the person beside her.

Yun Ming did not look at them. He transformed into an Escape Light and disappeared into the horizon. A five-colored stream of light flashed and vanished in the twilight, leaving only a faint trail behind. Peace returned to the mountain pass. The wind blew, kicking up a few pieces of charred paper ash. The blood mist gradually dispersed, leaving nothing on the ground. Ning Yuanzhou was dead, his wife was dead, and his son was dead. Everything he had painstakingly built—his reputation, his official position, his family, his everything—had turned into nothingness. No one remembered him, and no one ever would.

In the mountain pass, those commoners were still kneeling on the ground, staring in the direction where Yun Ming had disappeared, and for a long time, no one stood up. They did not know who that person was, where he had gone, or if he would ever return. They only knew that from now on, no one would ever come to save them again. The twilight closed in, and night fell. The mountain pass was pitch black, with only the wind wailing.