Incompatible Fates

Bang!

A dull thud rang out.

Amintu's entire body jolted. He swayed twice, then fell to the ground with a thump, dead on the spot.

In his final lingering moment, he suddenly understood. That man had only taken one step back from beginning to end—he could turn invisible.

In the distance, Logu stared wide-eyed as Amintu fell, utterly shocked.

It sounded long-winded when told, but it had all happened in the blink of an eye.

Before Logu could even see what had happened, Amintu had already gone down.

Run!

Though Logu did not have much of a brain, he understood that he was no match for that man either.

Besides, before setting out, Gantuji had repeatedly warned them to retreat and report whenever they encountered a powerful enemy.

Logu retreated lightly and quietly, then quickened his pace after putting some distance between them.

To make sure he was not being followed, Logu deliberately took a detour and watched behind him to see whether that man had come after him.

If that man followed, he absolutely could not lead the pursuer back to their nest.

Otherwise, the Bayala Squad would be finished.

Deep in the heartland of Great Li, if they truly lined up and fought face-to-face with drums pounding, the few of them could never defeat the Flying Fish Guard.

Only after repeatedly confirming that there were no pursuers behind him did Logu return to the nest.

It was not until he saw the outline of the nest that Logu finally breathed a sigh of relief.

All the way back, the sight of Amintu falling and that man vanishing into thin air had filled his mind.

It reminded him of the terrifying legends of the White Mountains and Black Waters—demons lurking in the dark, choosing people to devour, their forms nowhere to be seen.

Good thing I made it back.

Reaching the courtyard wall, Logu braced himself against it and vaulted over, about to jump into the yard.

Suddenly!

Some dark, indistinct object came flying at him.

Logu had barely turned his head when the world spun around him, and he collapsed.

Vaguely, he saw a dark iron shovel.

Qin He looked at the fallen Di Barbarian, swung the large iron shovel a few times, and felt thoroughly pleased with the weapon.

That turtle-shell swing just now had smashed even the turtle shell to pieces.

When fighting, you needed a weapon that sat right in your hand.

He reached down, hoisted Logu onto his shoulder, and turned to leave.

This guy was far too slow. Qin He had waited ages before he finally came back.

When Qin He had smashed Amintu to death with one turtle-shell swing, he had already discovered Logu lurking not far away.

He had not given chase. Instead, he first sent Amintu back to the Corpse Burning Room, fetched the iron shovel, and only then came to wait outside this Di Barbarian nest for the hare to come to him.

The monk might run, but the temple could not.

In the end, he had waited half the day before the man showed up.

As for how he knew about this nest—was that not obvious? After burning that beast An Baogu, Qin He knew everything.

Qin He strolled along at an unhurried pace, avoiding the patrolling soldiers as he left the city and returned to the Corpse Burning Room.

Looking at the two corpses and one turtle on the floor, Qin He was speechless in more ways than one.

People never knew what would happen the next moment. He had only gone out for a bath, and when he came back—good heavens, there were two more corpses.

These Di Barbarians were truly fierce. One was not enough, so they came in a pair.

Were their birth characters incompatible with his or what? Every time he went out at night, he ran into them.

He had originally planned to take a day off.

Who could he even reason with about this?

Since things had come to this.

The turtle went into the water bucket, and the corpses went into the Corpse Burning Furnace.

After a simple cleanup, he took their belongings, lit the coal furnace, then summoned the Abyssal Fire.

Burn away.

He would have to wait a while for the Corpse Burning Rewards, but the "reward" from looting the bodies was right there.

Thirty taels of silver carried close to the body, along with five gold leaves.

The gold leaves bore poems and engraved paintings, exquisitely crafted.

Who knew which wealthy household had suffered at the hands of these beasts? Anyone could tell with their toes that they had been looted.

He put away what was useful and tossed what was not into the furnace to burn along with them.

Then came another stretch of waiting. The corpses had committed countless sins; Heaven had taken them in, and they dared not harbor Resentful Energy, so they lay quietly.

But just then, though the corpses had clearly not yet burned away, the black-and-white curtain suddenly descended without warning. The sharp clack of wooden blocks pierced through the dim yellow lamplight, swaying with graceful charm.

It was... the white-haired zombie from the Corpse Burning Hall. It had finally burned away.

Qin He quickly did the math. Good heavens—it had burned for a full eighteen hours.

A day and a half!

As expected of a zombie. It was truly a pain to burn.

Through the Shadow Play Performance, Qin He saw the life of the white-haired zombie.

Before becoming a zombie, the white-haired zombie had been named Yu Jinjiang.

He was from Qingcheng in Shu Land.

The Yu Family was a renowned wealthy household in Qingcheng, a family of scholars that amassed wealth by proper means and held considerable local prestige.

Yu Jinjiang himself was charitable and generous. He built bridges and repaired roads, donated money to build schools, and supported widows and orphans. People called him Great Philanthropist Yu.

The old Yu Family had everything going for it except one source of worry: for generations, its line had been thin, with each generation passing down through a single son.

By Yu Jinjiang's generation, it had become even worse. He was already over forty and still had no heir. Yu Jinjiang was anxious. With such a vast family fortune about to be left without an inheritor, what was he to do?

A fair word had to be said here: part of Yu Jinjiang's charity came from his hope of accumulating virtue in exchange for a son. But regardless of his motives, Yu Jinjiang was absolutely a good man, and every good deed he did was real.

Yet it truly answered the saying: those who kill and set fires wear belts of gold, while those who build bridges and mend roads leave no corpses behind.

Seeing that he had passed forty, Yu Jinjiang realized that perhaps the Yu Family truly lacked the fortune to continue its bloodline. No matter how unwilling he was, he could only resign himself to fate.

But even if the bloodline could not continue, the family incense could not be allowed to go out.

He would adopt a son.

After searching high and low, he found a boy from a distant branch of the family, adopted him, and renamed him Yu Wanglong.

Yu Jinjiang put great care into raising this adopted son. Needless to say, he gave him the best food, clothing, and daily necessities, and even hired a tutor to teach him.

Unfortunately, Yu Wanglong was not truly of the Yu Family bloodline. For all the Yu Family's generations of scholarly tradition, he could not take in a single word of learning. Every day, he refused to improve himself, associated only with bad company, spent his days drinking, whoring, gambling, and brawling, and even injured several people in fights.

Yu Jinjiang beat him and scolded him, but it was all useless.

He wanted to throw Yu Wanglong out of the house, but recalling the more than ten years they had spent together day and night, he had grown somewhat attached. So he delayed year after year, never hardening his heart enough to do it.

As Yu Wanglong grew older, he became increasingly outrageous. Not only did he bully men and women alike, he even stabbed people with knives. He gathered a gang of desperadoes from who knew where and stayed away from home all year, doing everything except anything good.

Yu Jinjiang's heart turned cold. In just a few years, all the little prestige the old Yu Family had accumulated was utterly squandered by that unfilial son.

But at this time, Yu Jinjiang received a piece of tremendous good news.

What good news?

A son in his old age!

One of his concubines risked her life to give birth to a baby boy for him.

Was that not strange? When he wanted one, one would not come. After he had given up for more than ten years, the line was suddenly continued.

Yu Jinjiang was overjoyed.

When the mountains and rivers seemed to leave no road ahead, beyond the dark willows and bright flowers lay another village.

The child's face was the spitting image of his own. There was no doubt he was his son.

But as the old saying went, disaster leans on the side of fortune, and fortune hides disaster within it.

Yu Jinjiang was delighted to have a son in his old age—but what about Yu Wanglong?

The Yu Family fortune had originally been meant for Yu Wanglong. Now that Yu Jinjiang had a son in his old age, would Yu Wanglong still get a share?

People die for wealth as birds die for food. Yu Wanglong, who had not returned home for over a year, came back to the old Yu Family residence.

He brought a group of desperadoes and, right in front of Yu Jinjiang, smashed that child to death.

Yu Jinjiang flew into a towering rage, but before he could even curse more than a few words, he fell straight to the ground.

His mouth twisted, his face drooped, and his limbs went limp.

He had suffered a stroke!

And Yu Wanglong? He was truly no kind of human.

He called that gang of desperadoes together and indulged in wine and pleasure at the old Yu Family residence.

For five or six days, he never gave Yu Jinjiang a single bite to eat or a sip of water.

Yu Jinjiang was starved and thirsted to death alive.

Tell me, was that Resentful Energy great or not?

The grace of raising someone was greater than Heaven, yet he had raised a white-eyed wolf whose conscience had been eaten by dogs, only to be repaid with murder and the destruction of his family.

As for how Yu Jinjiang later became a white-haired zombie, and whether he rose from the dead and pounced upon Yu Wanglong, Qin He had no way of knowing.

The Shadow Play Performance recorded only one's life before death, not what came after.

Reward: Armpit Universe Technique.