Choice

But before long, Qin Sang's face filled with disappointment, and he sighed softly.

He raced down the mountain and searched the chaotic battlefield impatiently for a long while. Apart from finding two strips of cloth hanging from tree branches, he did not see a single living soul—not even a corpse.

The battlefield seemed to extend only a few hundred zhang in every direction. Unwilling to give up, Qin Sang expanded his search, but found no trace of anything.

Qin Sang pinched the two pieces of excellent blue-green fabric between his fingers, his gaze fixed on the valley below, now utterly unrecognizable, his face thoughtful.

The peaks on both sides of the valley had collapsed, earth and stone filling the entire gorge. Even the little river that had once run through it had been blocked, causing a small lake to form upstream. Could someone have been buried beneath the valley?

With so much rubble, there was no way he could clear it all alone. After hesitating for a moment, Qin Sang returned to the ancient road and ordered an entire battalion of soldiers to enter and dig.

The valley was not on the ancient road, yet no one dared defy Qin Sang's orders. They immediately set to work with blazing enthusiasm.

Tired of waiting, Qin Sang stepped forward to help as well.

The valley was not large, but the piled earth and stone lay deep. Qin Sang could not help worrying. Even if someone was beneath it, they had likely been crushed into a pulp. He only hoped the items had not been damaged.

Layer by layer, earth and stone were removed. In the blink of an eye, night had fallen. Suppressing his anxiety, Qin Sang ordered them to set up the cooking pots and prepare food, then continue digging through the night.

Some soldiers could not help complaining, but he pretended not to hear them. Torches filled the valley, and they worked until deep into the night before finally digging down to the bottom.

The final layer of earth and stone had been soaked through by water and turned into sludge. Basket after basket was carried out, and Qin Sang himself was nearly turned into a mudman.

Just then, a cry of alarm suddenly rang out ahead. Qin Sang's heart jolted, and when he looked up, he heard soldiers shouting, "General Qin, there's someone down here!"

Qin Sang was overjoyed and hurriedly shouted, "Don't touch him!"

With several swift leaps, he reached the front and discovered that they had actually dug out an underground river.

The terrain here was extraordinarily strange. The river had hollowed out the base of a massive blue stone on the bank, leaving the upper part jutting outward as a natural shelter. Several fallen boulders had happened to block the gap, yet the underground river had not been sealed off, and a babbling stream still flowed through it.

That person lay facedown in the water, completely motionless.

He wore dark blue-green robes. Qin Sang took out the fabric from his chest and compared it; it had indeed been torn from this man's clothes.

Qin Sang crouched and reached inside. Just as he was about to check whether the man was dead or alive, someone behind him cried again, "Another one's been found!"

Then Zhang Wenkui shouted, "General Qin, this one's dead! His head was smashed to pieces by a rock!"

Mutual destruction again?

Qin Sang secretly thought that the world of Immortal Cultivators was truly cursed. Whenever one died, they died in pairs. But for him, this was unquestionably a tremendous blessing.

Qin Sang immediately ordered every soldier to leave the valley.

The torchlight blazed brightly, illuminating the mountains. Wolves howled in the distance and night owls shrieked, making the air feel chilling, but Qin Sang's heart burned hot.

He stretched out his hand, grasped the arm of the person in the stream, and was about to pull him out when his expression changed slightly.

Half of the man's body had been submerged in the water. He was icy cold from head to toe, no different from a corpse. Yet the instant Qin Sang grabbed his arm, he sensed the man's pulse twitch once!

He was still alive!

For a moment, Qin Sang did not know whether to rejoice or worry. His expression flickered between light and shadow. After some hesitation, he decided to gently pull the man from the water first.

The young man had soaked in the water for too long. His face was pale, and his thin lips held not a trace of color.

He looked somewhat older than the young man surnamed Song, around twenty years old. His features were firm and sharply defined, his breath exceedingly faint, his pulse and breathing so weak they were almost imperceptible. His injuries were likely grave, and he did not awaken even after Qin Sang dragged him out.

But Immortal Cultivators could not be measured by the standards of ordinary people. This man might not be beyond saving.

Qin Sang stared at the young man, unable to make up his mind. Deep down, he was inclined to save him.

Qiu Xian, Qiu Xian—had he not gone through all this trouble, suppressing his impatience as he dealt with mortals, all for the sake of seeking immortality? Now that he had finally encountered an Immortal Cultivator, the shortcut lay right before him. Why should he continue wasting time in the mortal world?

Though he could kill the man and have Yanwang hook out his soul for questioning, souls existed for such a short time that there was no way he could learn the full picture of the Immortal Cultivator world.

Yet Qin Sang could not help recalling the Blood Food that the black-robed Demon Lord had sucked dry into human husks. What if this man was a Demon Lord too? And what if he was an Immortal Cultivator of the righteous path, but discovered that Qin Sang cultivated the Demon Lord's technique? Would he slay demons and eliminate evil?

Qin Sang was truly caught between a rock and a hard place, unable to choose.

Unexpectedly, while Qin Sang was secretly agonizing over it, the young man suddenly opened his eyes without warning. From those narrow eyes shot two gazes like swords leaving their sheaths, incomparably sharp as they stabbed toward Qin Sang's eyes.

Qin Sang had not expected the young man to awaken on his own. Caught off guard, he felt as though the young man was about to see straight through his thoughts. Alarmed, he hurriedly buried his intentions and made a decision in an instant. Lowering his head, he said repeatedly, "Qin Sang pays respects to Immortal Master! Congratulations to Immortal Master on emerging safe and sound!"

At the same time, his heart rose to his throat, and he remained secretly vigilant.

The young man stared at Qin Sang for a moment. The harshness in his gaze eased slightly. His eyes shifted as he looked around, then he asked in a hoarse voice, "Are you a general from the mortal world?"

The young man's injuries were indeed severe. His voice was extremely faint, but Qin Sang still heard him clearly and nodded. "Qin Sang is a deputy general of Xuanwei Camp."

"Xuanwei Camp?"

A trace of puzzlement flashed through the young man's eyes, but he did not pursue it. Instead, he asked, "Since you are a general, why have you brought soldiers into Guling Mountain?"

Qin Sang hesitated. The surprise attack on Duyakou was a military secret. If it leaked, it would surely affect the battle, and his great military achievement would be lost.

But when he thought of how this young man was an Immortal Cultivator, and that if he could win his favor, why would he need to go to Pilgrimage Mountain? Whether King Dongyang won or lost was none of his damn business. He immediately revealed the entire matter without holding anything back.

"So that's how it is..."

The young man nodded and strained to lift his neck. "There should have been another person nearby..."

Qin Sang hurriedly stood and carried over the other corpse. This corpse was in a miserable state. A massive boulder had struck it directly above the neck, leaving nothing there at all.

"Please accept my condolences, Immortal Master. Your companion has unfortunately perished."

The young man sneered. "How could Han be companions with a Demon Lord? This man was a Demonic Path cultivator who committed every kind of evil. Han happened to encounter him and killed him. But his artifact was strange, and Han nearly fell to him..."

As he spoke, the young man coughed violently several times. He barely raised a hand to cover his chest, his face full of pain. "Search him... See whether he has a pouch about the size of a palm..."

Was this young man surnamed Han truly a righteous man who hated evil as bitterly as an enemy?

Qin Sang suppressed the unease in his heart and dared not reveal the slightest flaw.

He obediently felt around the corpse's waist and indeed found a small pouch. Taking it out, he saw that it was about the same size as the Seven-Colored Brocade Pouch, but it was made of gray fabric, dull and utterly inconspicuous.