Ten Years of Planning and Preparation—Brother Jiang, How Have You Been?

Southeast of New Dajiang County lay Lone Goose City, one of the largest cities on the southern bank of Jiang Prefecture.

Seventy li outside the city, near the desolate and ruined Horn-Sand Ancient Forbidden Land.

Nestled in a mountain hollow stood a small courtyard, unadorned and low-key. Unless one deliberately searched for it, no one would notice that anyone lived there.

The courtyard was clean and tidy. Several bundles of firewood were piled in a corner, while rows of lush green vegetables grew outside.

This was where Wang Congyun lived alone after descending the mountain to gain experience.

At the foot of a distant mountain.

He wore coarse cloth, his face lean and sharply defined, his features rugged and resolute. Though he was in the prime of life, he already carried traces of weathered hardship. A dried, withered corpse rested on his shoulder, its limbs twisted as though every last trace of life had been drained from it.

The corpse lay face down, its features obscured.

Smack!

Standing before a freshly dug pit, he threw the corpse inside, seized an iron shovel, and began filling the pit with dirt.

He was practiced and silent, as though he had done this more times than he could count.

Once the earth had been leveled, he erected no grave marker. He merely took out a stack of yellow paper from his robe, lit it with a flick of his finger, then scattered it into the wind. It drifted away in fluttering scraps, turning into specks of ash and dying embers that spiraled toward the distance.

Another life he had failed to save.

Which number was this? He could no longer remember.

He pondered for a long while. Only after every trace of ash had scattered from sight did he slowly rise, turn around with steady steps, and leave.

Suddenly—whoosh!

A streak of green light sprang from the nearby grass and leaped straight into his palm. Wang Congyun froze, lowering his head in bewilderment. A tiny grasshopper, emerald green from head to toe, had actually crawled into his hand of its own accord.

He wanted to drive it away, but the grasshopper twitched its antennae as though confirming his identity. It opened its mouth and spat out a letter.

Wang Congyun's expression stiffened. Somewhat suspicious, he unfolded the letter and read several lines. His pupils gradually widened.

Qin Niangzi!

Green Mountain Lake... a message delivered by an Insect Spirit?

He read the letter from beginning to end, then read it again and again. Mountain wind slipped through the treetops, carrying a faint chill.

A long while later.

He tossed the letter into the air. With a rustle, the pages burned to ash. He stood there for a long time, his gaze growing increasingly complex as a hundred feelings welled within him.

Over the years since descending the mountain, as time passed and the lives on his hands increased, his heart had grown colder and colder. The people he could truly trust had become fewer and fewer. He did not dare be himself, nor did he dare reveal his true nature, fearing that the slightest exposure would leave him dead without even a burial place...

Yet this letter, arriving so suddenly, made him feel that he was no longer alone.

Thousands of li away, there was a group of people he had personally saved, laying out a path of retreat for him.

The feeling of having people think of him at every moment was difficult to describe. A rare warmth rose within his heart.

He hurried back inside, spread out paper, and took up his brush.

When he began writing his reply, he had thought to keep it brief. He should not write too much—just make things clear, so as not to frighten Qin Niangzi.

But once his brush touched the paper, he could no longer stop!

He first wrote of his recent circumstances. Over these years, he had first built a city in New Dajiang County, then traveled from place to place before finally putting down stable roots around Lone Goose City. On the surface, he was a disciple sent down the mountain by the Daoist Sect to gain experience, handling miscellaneous affairs for the sect. In secret, however, he used this identity to continually contact the first-realm Farmers whom the Daoist Sect treated as expendable materials. Those he could save, he saved; those he could hide, he hid.

A group of companions who likewise detested the Daoist Sect's actions had now gathered around him. There were Farmers and medicinal farmers who had willingly remained after being rescued. There were even several low-ranking Daoist Sect disciples who had joined him shoulder to shoulder, secretly acting against the Daoist Sect.

He then wrote of the Daoist Sect's inner workings: the so-called Farmers who voluntarily joined the Daoist Sect, the so-called land purified by Daoist arts—every bit of it was a lie from beginning to end.

Then he wrote of his own circumstances. For years, he had deliberately suppressed his cultivation and never revealed it. On the surface, he remained the "dull and honest" disciple sent down the mountain, neither fighting for merit nor rushing ahead. Yet he had faintly sensed that his lack of advancement for so long might have drawn certain people's attention.

He also wrote of little Tu Yun. "I wonder what that child looks like now. Can she smile? Is she mischievous and troublesome?"

By the end, he discovered that he had written dozens of pages in a sweeping flood. By the time he set down his brush, the sky had gone completely dark.

When feelings surged, words could not contain them; his heart was too unsettled.

It was far too rare to pour out his heart to someone with such sincere feeling!

Looking down at the thick stack of letter paper, he suddenly remembered... could this Insect Spirit even carry it?

At that moment, the Insect Spirit was waiting silently on his desk. Wang Congyun folded the letter paper and placed it before it. The Insect Spirit opened its mouth and inhaled, and a streak of green light rolled the letters inside.

Whoosh!

The Insect Spirit bounced twice, then turned into green light and burrowed into the ground, vanishing in an instant—

Wang Congyun's thoughts settled somewhat.

Whenever he had corresponded with others in the past, he had always worried about the contents falling into someone else's hands. Thus, he had guarded against every possibility and weighed every word. But the Insect Spirit was born of heaven and earth—it could find its own path and destroy itself when necessary. He had never imagined that such a strange thing could emerge within the territory of Agricultural Path cultivators.

The orthodox inheritance of the Daoist Sect had never possessed such a spiritual creature. Agricultural Path cultivation truly was a singular wonder between heaven and earth, far beyond anything the Daoist Sect could compare to!

If it developed well, the vast world of the future ought to belong to the Agricultural Path.

Such a filthy inheritance as the Daoist Sect should have been extinguished long ago!

The night deepened.

He did not enter the house, but instead went to the rear mountain. True energy surged and flowed through him, lotuses blooming beneath his every step. In the blink of an eye, he crossed dozens of li.

An inconspicuous door disguised as mountain rock stood in the cliff face. Wang Congyun approached and knocked a secret code against the stone wall—three long, two short. The wall slowly slid aside, revealing stone steps leading underground—

Inside the hidden cave, firelight blazed brightly.

Several people guarded the entrance. When they saw him enter, they all rose.

"Daoist!"

Wang Congyun nodded in acknowledgment and swept his gaze around. There were two Daoist Sect disciples and three peasant men, all of whom had followed him for years and could be trusted.

One of the peasants stepped forward and said.

"Daoist, there are one hundred and seventy-five first-realm Farmers in the new batch. The Daoist Sect sent them here as expendable materials to be thrown into the Horn-Sand Ancient Forbidden Land to purify it. After the slaughter, we only managed to save one hundred and thirty-three. Twenty-eight have already died from wounds too severe to treat."

"What of the rest?"

"Several dozen are seriously injured but have regained consciousness. However, a few of them... are not quite right. Even after witnessing the Daoist Sect's slaughter, they still refuse to believe us. Instead, they think we are harming them, shouting that they will report our evil deeds to the Daoist Sect."

"They have truly lost their minds! The Daoist Sect intended to use their lives to fill the forbidden land, yet they treat us as the villains instead!?"

"This is utterly stifling. We went to such lengths to save people, only to save this!?"

The atmosphere fell silent for a moment. Candle shadows flickered, and everyone's expressions turned grim.

Wang Congyun closed his eyes, drew a deep breath, and remained silent for a long while before making a cruel decision.

"Persuade them one final time. Tell them the true situation, as well as the hidden truth of New Dajiang County, exactly as it is. If they can awaken and turn back, treat and train them properly. If they still refuse to believe... send them back to the Horn-Sand Ancient Forbidden Land."

No one spoke.

Several people moved their lips, wanting to say something, but in the end had nothing to say.

It was the most correct choice, and the only choice.

"Not everyone can survive in this world, nor can everyone accept the truth. Rather than stubbornly insist on saving them, it is better to see them off on their final journey."

He could not even remember how many times he had made the same decision.

Every time he made such a decision, he would toss and turn at night, dreaming of the wrongfully dead and the innocent. He dreamed of them clinging to him, demanding his life in return. Waking from midnight dreams, his heart would be unsettled. But he understood even more clearly that what he needed to care about now was not merely his own life and death.

It was the lives of everyone along the entire underground rescue line!

If he was exposed, everyone would die!

In chaotic times, a saintly heart could not be indulged. After Brother Jiang's teachings back then, he had long understood that saving people was possible, but the premise of saving others was ensuring that one's own people could live safely and securely. There could be no pointless sacrifices.

Sometimes, one still had to respect others' fates and let go of the compulsion to help.

"Go make the arrangements."

The others dispersed, leaving only Wang Congyun and a Daoist Sect disciple in the hidden cave. The man was called Yan Xin. He had been among the first of them to see through the Daoist Sect's malice. He and Wang Congyun had secretly formed an alliance years ago, entrusting life and death to one another, both taking the secret overthrow of the Daoist Sect as their mission.

Yan Xin saw how heavy his heart was and consoled him.

"Daoist, you need not blame yourself too much. The Daoist Sect's status throughout the Eastern Ten Prefectures cannot be shaken. It is the orthodox order of the world, and has long sunk deep into people's hearts... Not everyone can see the true face hidden beneath its hypocrisy."

"If anyone is to blame, it is only the common people for their ignorance, for being beguiled and deceived by them. This is not your fault."

Wang Congyun pondered before saying, "I understand all of that."

"I only hope that one day, everyone in this world can break free from the Daoist Sect's shadow and live openly beneath the sun—men plowing and women weaving, songs and dances in peaceful times. I only hope that one day, there will no longer be Strange Calamities and strange monsters, no more stretches of a thousand li without human habitation, no more corpses left dead in the wilderness..."

"If that day truly comes, then even if I bear ten thousand sins and am forever barred from reincarnation and rebirth, what would I have to fear?"

"Along this road, all I seek is a clear conscience."

Seeing that Yan Xin still wanted to say something, he casually cut him off.

"Enough, no more idle talk. Train the new batch of Farmers worth cultivating as soon as possible, and transfer them out quickly. The sooner, the better. Otherwise, I fear that as the night grows longer, dreams may grow more numerous... Recently, I have felt a faint unease. I keep feeling that my good master is watching me in secret."

"I have remained below the mountain for ten years as though it were one day, neither advancing nor retreating. I fear I have already aroused suspicion."

"Yes. Daoist, please be careful in all things."

A long while later, deep into the night.

Wang Congyun left the hidden cave and returned home.

The night wind was faintly cool.

As he approached, just as he was about to push open the courtyard gate and enter, his footsteps suddenly halted.

Under the moonlight, someone stood in the courtyard.

The person wore Daoist robes, had a slightly dark complexion, and was somewhat thinner than Wang Congyun remembered. It was none other than his fellow Daoist and fellow sect member, Li Xiaobing, whom he had not seen for many years.

Wang Congyun's heart tightened, but his face remained calm. He strode forward several steps and gave her a Daoist salute.

"Brother Li, you—"

Before he could finish, Li Xiaobing interrupted him. Seeing that it was him, she was overjoyed. She rushed before him in three steps that became two, then dropped to her knees with a thud and tightly clutched his sleeve.

"Brother Daoist! Brother Wang! Please, save me! I regret that I did not heed your words back then. That was how I committed such a grave mistake and caused the deaths of so many fellow disciples!"

"Now my ties to the Daoist Sect run too deep. How should I possibly conduct myself?"