Inventorying the Spoils of War

Zhou Wanqing waited from morning until noon.

During that time, she saw many of the old menial disciples who had gone down the mountain return, but Lin Fan alone was still nowhere to be seen.

At first, Zhou Wanqing silently comforted herself, but as time passed, her worry grew deeper and deeper.

She had staked everything on Lin Fan; if something happened to him, that would be unacceptable to her.

Zhou Wanqing copied books while occasionally lifting her head to glance toward the entrance of the Hidden Scripture Pavilion.

"Brother Lin... nothing bad happened, right?"

Zhou Wanqing pressed her small lips together, feeling increasingly uneasy.

"What are you thinking about?"

Suddenly, a familiar voice came from behind.

Zhou Wanqing immediately turned around and saw the boy's bright smile at a glance.

Shocked and overjoyed, she couldn't help but throw herself into Lin Fan's arms.

"You're finally back..."

Lin Fan was startled, then understood at once.

So this was what it felt like to be missed by someone.

Lin Fan took out a Foundation Replenishing Pill and, without explanation, stuffed it into Zhou Wanqing's cherry-like mouth.

Zhou Wanqing's beautiful eyes widened, but out of trust in Lin Fan, she still swallowed the pill.

"Foundation Replenishing Pill."

Lin Fan said softly.

"Brother Lin, thank you..."

Zhou Wanqing's eyes reddened, her heart filled with emotion.

Under normal circumstances, menial disciples who were "drained" during Dual Cultivation on Blackwood Cliff were almost always squeezed dry and left to fend for themselves.

When the previous Dual Cultivation partner "died of illness," the old menials would simply swap to the next one. No one had ever been like Lin Fan, willing to use limited Contribution Points to exchange for a Foundation Replenishing Pill for their partner.

Of course, this kind of pill didn't require many Contribution Points, but to the old hands at the Hidden Scripture Pavilion, saving a little wherever possible was the way.

As for human life? Mere weeds.

Not far away, Feng Ling and the Delicate Girl both noticed this scene.

"This person is somewhat unique."

The Delicate Girl looked at Feng Ling and asked, "He lived with you for a few days before?"

"Yes."

Feng Ling's expression shifted slightly.

"Even if he has a shred of conscience, in the end, he's still a whelp of the demon sect."

The Delicate Girl shook her head.

Because he had slacked off going down the mountain that morning, Lin Fan sped up his book-copying efficiency in the afternoon.

[You copied "Strange Tales of the Profound Moon." Reward: Lifespan 5 years.]

[You copied "Miscellaneous Chapters on a Hundred Birds." Reward: Lifespan 8 years.]

[You copied "Secret Records of Alchemy." Reward: Lifespan 10 years.]

Through an afternoon of effort, Lin Fan had accumulated another 23 years of Lifespan.

Just as Lin Fan was copying books, outside the Market Below the Mountain, two figures in Black Mystic Robes had appeared.

One was tall and thin, while the other wore a golden mask.

The Tall Thin Man merely waved his hand, and the ground exploded open with a boom, revealing a pit filled with flesh and blood.

"Not only killed with one punch, but the body was also shattered into pieces."

"The fist force was restrained, breaking through like splitting bamboo—this is Fist Momentum..."

The Golden Mask Formal Disciple only glanced at the corpse before speaking in a deep voice.

"Senior Brother, are you sure you're not mistaken?"

The Tall Thin Man was startled. Even among Formal Disciples, very few had managed to cultivate "Fist Momentum."

Yet now, someone had used "Fist Momentum" to kill an old menial who had a chance of becoming a Formal Disciple.

"Are you doubting me?"

"I wouldn't dare."

The Tall Thin Man quickly lowered his head.

Though they were both Formal Disciples, the other's strength and status far surpassed his own.

The Golden Mask Formal Disciple continued asking, "Were there any witnesses?"

"No."

The Tall Thin Man shook his head. This place was a certain distance from the market below the mountain and very remote. If he hadn't noticed that an old menial from the Hidden Scripture Pavilion had gone missing and come out to search himself, he wouldn't have been able to find this spot at all.

Ordinary menial disciples they could ignore, but old menials with the potential to become formal disciples were always secretly watched and observed by formal disciples.

The Golden Masked Man pondered for a moment, then continued examining the remains. Suddenly, he said coldly, "This man was a spy from the Thousand Hands Sect."

The Thousand Hands Sect was also a great demonic sect, evenly matched with the Blood Demon Sect.

"Thousand Hands Sect? A spy?"

The Fat Man was startled, but when he followed the Masked Man's gaze, he soon saw a broken black tentacle.

"Senior Brother has sharp eyes. This man must have been practicing the Blood Swallowing Demonic Art of the Thousand Hands Sect."

"It's said that this kind of technique causes the body to mutate, growing multiple blood-sucking tentacles."

The Fat Man realized the severity of the matter and quickly asked, "Senior Brother, how should we handle this?"

"Report it to the sect."

The Masked Man said after thinking it over.

If it had been an ordinary murder for wealth, even if an old menial had died, they would have smoothed things over and downplayed them. After all, this was a demon sect—killing and being killed was perfectly normal.

But the dead man was a spy from the Thousand Hands Sect. That made the matter far from simple.

This meant there could be other spies hidden within the sect.

Lin Fan never imagined that casually killing Wu Hai would alert the entire Blood Demon Sect.

Night fell again, blood mist filled the air, and rustling sounds came from outside the door.

Zhou Wanqing had fallen into a deep sleep after keeping watch during the first half of the night.

Lin Fan sat behind the door, and by the light of the Everlasting Lamp, he pulled out the cloth pouch Wu Hai had left behind.

He glanced at Zhou Wanqing. She was sleeping peacefully and wouldn't wake up anytime soon.

Wu Hai was an old menial, with even more seniority in the Hidden Scripture Pavilion than Wang Biao.

The pouch he left behind should contain quite a few good things.

With a hint of curiosity, Lin Fan opened the pouch.

The first thing that caught his eye was Wu Hai's identity token. In the upper right corner, the Contribution Points displayed were a full "two hundred and fifty."

"He actually had that many Contribution Points."

Lin Fan was shocked.

This wasn't ten or twenty Contribution Points, nor was it several dozen—it was a full two hundred and more!

To put it in perspective, even a menial disciple in the Hidden Scripture Pavilion, without spending a single point, would have to work themselves to death for over two years to save up that much.

"It shouldn't just be his own Contribution Points. Some of them must belong to the menial disciples who died."

Lin Fan quickly recalled the menial disciples who had gone down the mountain with Wu Hai and then "disappeared."

If there had been no proof before that Wu Hai had laid hands on other menials, then these Contribution Points were now solid evidence.

"Wu Hai was an old menial with the potential to become a formal disciple."

"If I transfer these Contribution Points to my own token, it'll be easy to expose that I was the one who killed him."

"That would inevitably draw the attention of the formal disciples."

Lin Fan thought for a moment, then carefully put the token away.

He continued checking the other items and pulled out a technique manual from the pouch.

"Blood Swallowing Demonic Art"

"This shouldn't be a technique meant for menial disciples. Where did Wu Hai get it?"

Lin Fan was both surprised and suspicious.

"Could he have bought it from the market below the mountain?"

Lin Fan quickly shook his head, dismissing that guess.

The market below the mountain was a low-level market. It did sell corresponding technique manuals, but those were all the most basic or obscure techniques of the Blood Demon Sect.

He recalled the black tentacles Wu Hai had extended when he ambushed him. Their power was extraordinary.

At that time, Wu Hai's combat strength was at the Spirit Gathering Realm Third Grade, or even infinitely close to Fourth Grade. If Lin Fan hadn't been stronger himself and had also cultivated Fist Momentum, it would have been hard to take Wu Hai down in one punch.

"Could those black tentacles be the physical change from practicing this technique?"

Thinking of those ugly black tentacles, Lin Fan instantly dismissed any thought of examining the manual. He had no desire to turn into a hideous monster.

Of course, Lin Fan didn't destroy it either. He put it away as well.

This technique had some value. If he could bring it to the market, he might even sell it for a decent price.

At this moment, Lin Fan's eyes lit up as he pulled another small booklet from the cloth pouch.

The cover bore only four small characters: "Daily Observations."

Lin Fan flipped open the first page, and the contents left him somewhat startled.

"Today is my first day at the Blood Demon Sect. The treatment of Menial Disciples here is far worse than at the Holy Sect—utterly inhumane."

"Today is my second day at the Blood Demon Sect. Last night, an evil spirit slammed against the door; luckily, I blocked it in time, or I would have been devoured clean by the Blood Worms surging from the Blood Mist."