Not far away, the disciples of the Wan Sheng Palace, who had intentionally or unintentionally lagged behind, were left utterly dumbfounded.
Chui Xiu pointed at the pig, stammering, "Brother Lu, they—they—this—"
Lu Ying's expression darkened, and without a word, he turned and strode away, his sleeves flaring dramatically.
The others hurriedly followed.
Meanwhile, the cultivators watching through the Mystic Heaven Mirror erupted in chaos.
[???]
[What in the world? What did I just see? Am I hallucinating? That pig was clearly dead a second ago!]
[No, you’re not hallucinating. That pig really just came back to life.]
[Sweet heavens above, I’m shooketh!]
In the Mystic Heaven Mirror’s projection, even the ghost village chief froze in stunned silence for a moment.
It craned its neck, scrutinizing the unnaturally lively pig from every angle, front to back, top to bottom.
Modern medicine defines death by the cessation of heartbeat, breathing, and brain activity.
But what were the criteria for death in Tian Family Village?
Xie Ziyin’s brows lifted slightly, genuinely curious about how the chief would rule on this.
The chief retracted its neck, a nagging sense of wrongness lingering—yet it couldn’t pinpoint what exactly was off.
This pig seemed both dead and not dead.
After a long pause, the chief suddenly turned to Wen Shuangbai and asked in an eerie tone, "What did you just call this pig?"
"Reporting to the chief, I named it Four Hundred Bucks," Wen Shuangbai replied with a sweet smile, her tone respectful and utterly sincere. "Humble names are easier to keep alive." She gestured to the other piglets, introducing them one by one. "This one’s One Hundred Bucks, that one’s Two Hundred Bucks…"
The chief found no fault in her words and no legitimate reason to devour these fragrant temporary workers. Frustrated, it cut her off, "Enough, enough!"
As the chief turned to leave, Wen Shuangbai quickly stopped it. "Oh, by the way, Chief, do you prefer chicken or pork?"
[?]
Somehow, the mood among the spectators in the Mystic Heaven Mirror had shifted—no longer worried about the disciples being eaten, they now feared for the chief’s fate.
[My advice? Chief, don’t answer that!]
[I’ve got a bad feeling about this… Human cunning is far scarier than ghosts!]
[She’s definitely setting a trap. Chief, think twice!]
But the chief was a good chief, so it answered dutifully, "Pork."
[Oh no, oh no, oh no…]
Wen Shuangbai smiled warmly, pressing further, "And do you prefer fatty pork or lean pork?"
The chief eyed the six lean disciples, licking its lips greedily. "Lean. More tender and chewy."
[Same, I only eat lean meat too. No fat for me.]
[What? Fatty pork is delicious, though!]
[I like a good balance of both!]
"Understood," Wen Shuangbai said sweetly. "Since the chief prefers chewy meat, starting today, we’ll take the piglets and chicks out for walks! The more they run, the firmer their meat will be!"
Two of the seven days had already passed. Today was the third.
In four more days, it would finally get to taste the tender, flavorful spiritual essence of these cultivators. The chief wiped its drool, nodding absentmindedly before cackling and floating away, oblivious to the fact that the Mystic Heaven Mirror’s audience had already begun mourning its impending doom.
With the chief’s permission, the six disciples wasted no time. They immediately began parading the piglets and chicks around the village in a grand procession.
Forming a U-shaped formation, Wen Shuangbai and Xie Ziyin stood at the center, while the sword cultivators Li Zhuohua and Yin Xuan guarded the left and right flanks, keeping the animals corralled between them.
Lu Jiayao stood beside Xie Ziyin, watching as the little chicks flapped their wings and scurried in every direction, utterly unruly. Just as he was about to whistle a tune to herd them, he noticed the pig named Four Hundred Bucks taking charge all on its own.
With cheerful grunts, it nudged straying chicks back into formation—left, right, left, right—its movements precise and oddly joyful.
Lu Jiayao: "???"
[A… a shepherd pig???]
This unusually lively pig stood out starkly among the herd.
First, its skin wasn’t pink like the other piglets—it was a deathly bluish-gray.
Second, it didn’t walk. It hopped.
Soon, cultivators from other sects abandoned their own factions’ streams, flocking to Qingling Mountain’s feed just to watch Wen Shuangbai and her team walk their pigs.
The crowd grew larger.
The Mystic Heaven Grand Competition provided safe rooms for resting disciples between rounds, and the Mystic Heaven Mirror’s feed would cut off during those breaks. Naturally, everyone was burning with curiosity.
[What on earth did Qingling Mountain do to those pigs?! Tell me now or I’ll lose my mind! If I don’t find out today, I won’t be able to cultivate in peace!]
[Oh please, you just don’t want to cultivate. Stop making excuses.]
[I’ve only ever heard of the Medicine Sage reviving the dead and regrowing bones. But Xie Ziyin’s only at the first layer of the Mingqiao Realm—how did he pull this off? I’m at the sixth layer and couldn’t do it. Pathetic.]
[Well, the Medicine Sage can revive humans, but pork? That’s a whole other story.]
[The dead can be revived only if their spiritual essence hasn’t dispersed. But everything in the Holy Tower was created five hundred years ago. Whether pigs even have spiritual essence is debatable, but this one’s been dead for centuries. Even the Medicine Sage couldn’t bring it back.]
[That pig isn’t alive. It’s still dead. They must’ve put something inside it. Didn’t they spend all night working on it?]
[The Tianluo Witch Sect has puppet arts—maybe one of their disciples helped Qingling Mountain?]
[No way. Puppetry drains the caster’s spiritual energy drastically. Witch cultivators wouldn’t use it unless absolutely necessary, and Tianluo has no ties to Qingling Mountain.]
[I’ve been watching Tianluo’s feed—their disciples haven’t even exchanged greetings with Qingling’s.]
During the day, the village bustled with ghostly villagers. As the Qingling Mountain squad passed by, their gazes lingered hungrily on the six disciples—yet they completely ignored the pigs and chickens.
Wen Shuangbai and Xie Ziyin exchanged a glance.
Walking side by side, they gradually closed the distance between them until their shoulders brushed lightly.
In a voice so soft only he could hear, Wen Shuangbai murmured two words: "As expected."
Last night, while reviving the pigs, they’d already sensed something odd.
Why did the village ghosts only bite the pigs but never eat them?
Their real bodies remained in the Holy Tower’s grand hall. The tower’s power had extracted their spiritual essence and bones, then conjured false vessels around their bones to project them into Tian Family Village—ensuring they wouldn’t truly die.
What the ghosts truly craved was the cultivators’ spiritual essence.
That was why injuries from fellow cultivators damaged their bones, while ghost attacks harmed their essence.
And these ghosts had no interest in the village livestock—they only killed, never consumed.
The killings served one purpose: to sabotage the disciples’ tasks, giving the ghosts a legitimate excuse to feast on their essence in seven days.
Today’s pig-walking expedition confirmed their theory.
The ghosts only wanted to kill the pigs—but they couldn’t kill what was already dead.
Xie Ziyin lowered his head and whispered into Wen Shuangbai’s ear, "Proceed as planned?"
Wen Shuangbai replied softly, "Yes."
[Ahhh! What are they saying? I can’t hear! Let me listen too!]
[These two are always sneaking around whispering to each other. So annoying—what’s so secret that we can’t hear?]
After their brief exchange, the two stepped apart, putting some distance between them. Then, they led the pigs and chickens on a long stroll, deliberately or not, circling back to the pavilion.
Upon seeing the legendary pavilion, Lu Jiayao, holding a little chick, peered around curiously.
Shen Hefeng adjusted his Taoist hat and drifted eerily behind Lu Jiayao before swiftly stepping into the pavilion with an air of immortal grace.
Wen Shuangbai called over Four Hundred Bucks (the pig), hoisted it up by its trotters, and cradled it in her arms, murmuring something into its ear.
Four Hundred Bucks flapped its little hooves, sniffed toward the pavilion, and let out a series of excited grunts: "Oink… squeak? Oink-oink!"
After delivering her instructions, Wen Shuangbai set the pig down, and the group continued their leisurely walk.
After a while, Lu Jiayao suddenly felt something was off—his head felt oddly light today.
He instinctively reached back to touch his hair… only to grab empty air.
Lu Jiayao: "…?"
In disbelief, he exclaimed, "Wh-where’s my hair?!"
[Hehe, your hair’s in Aunt Lu’s mouth now!]
Back in Lu Village, Aunt Lu chuckled at her silly son: [Thick-headed, slow on the uptake.]
The sky in Tian Village darkened faster than usual.
As usual, Wen Shuangbai and the other five packed the chickens and pigs into the alchemy furnace to take back.
The furnace shielded everything from prying eyes, so disciples from other sects noticed nothing amiss.
But the cultivators who’d been keeping a close watch on Qingling Mountain knew better!
[They didn’t take Four Hundred Bucks with them!]
[They’re letting the pig tail Aunt Lu on purpose—so sneaky! I love it!]
[Brilliant, absolutely brilliant.]
[As expected of our Qingling Mountain disciples!]
[Hahaha, truly the pride of Qingzhou!]
---
The next day.
Day Four in Tian Village.
Qingling Mountain’s team split into three groups: Senior Brother Li Zhuohua and Lu Jiayao guarded the base, Shen Hefeng went to the pavilion to stall Aunt Lu, while Wen Shuangbai and Xie Ziyin followed Four Hundred Bucks to a certain household.
Tian Village was built along the mountainside, with terrain rising from low to high.
At the halfway point, a flat stretch of land held seven or eight houses with dark-tiled roofs.
The target house stood at the innermost part of this area, marked by a ginkgo tree at its entrance.
It was late autumn in the village, and golden ginkgo leaves and nuts littered the ground, filling the air with the faint, pungent scent of ginkgo fruit.
Aunt Lu had left before dawn, so the house was empty, its doors shut tight.
The little black pig, its hide bitten full of holes the night before, wagged its tail obsequiously and trotted to the back wall. It hopped higher and higher with each bounce until it finally cleared the wall and tumbled inside.
[Poor pig, how did it get chewed up like that?]
[Why does it look so happy despite the pain?]
[Maybe because it’s not its real skin.]
[This pig acts more like a dog—did Qingling Mountain stuff a dog spirit into it?]
[Even dogs don’t jump like that. Go check out the big black dog at Jade Rhino Valley if you want to see how a normal dog scales walls.]
Once Four Hundred Bucks was inside, Wen Shuangbai and Xie Ziyin followed.
[They’re really… I’m crying. If they get caught, they can just say they were chasing the pig!]
[Genius. Absolute genius.]
Aunt Lu’s house had two floors.
The first floor held the main hall, her bedroom, the kitchen, a woodshed, and an outhouse—all ordinary stuff, with some dried vegetables sunning in the yard.
After a quick sweep revealed nothing unusual, Wen Shuangbai and Xie Ziyin cautiously headed upstairs, the pig trotting lightly behind them.
Ever since the two had gifted it the pigskin disguise, allowing it to roam freely without fear, it had regarded them as its saviors.
The second floor was silent. Outside, sacks of rice and farming tools lay scattered in the open area.
There were also three closed rooms.
A quick inspection revealed one was an apothecary, one a study, and the last a bedroom.
Confirming the house was empty and safe, they began searching in earnest.
Xie Ziyin entered the apothecary, where the faint scent of herbs lingered.
Dozens of empty pill bottles sat on the table—whatever elixirs they’d held were long gone.
Next to them stood a medicine cabinet. When Xie Ziyin opened it, his breath hitched.
His eyebrows lifted as he swiftly checked every drawer.
Silkthread Wonderlotus, Phoenix Fire Nectar, Crimson Sun Sand…
All premium ingredients. Though their uses varied, they shared one trait: they could stabilize a cultivator’s spirit and ward off ghostly corruption.
More importantly, these materials could last for centuries.
If they were genuine, he could take them out of the Sacred Tower—sell them for a fortune or carry them into the next round of trials.
Without hesitation, Xie Ziyin pocketed everything.
In the study, Wen Shuangbai’s gaze locked onto a small stack of talisman paper casually weighed down by an inkstone on the desk.
She instinctively held her breath, reaching out to gently touch it.
The texture was smooth and warm—this…
This was top-tier Lingshan Silk Talisman Paper!!!
Back at Qingling Mountain, Wen Shuangbai had read every crafting manual she could find, including a miscellany on lost treasures.
Lingshan Silk Talisman Paper was one such rarity.
She remembered the text: Five centuries ago, Qingzhou’s Lingshan Sect had been peerless in talismanic arts, famed especially for this paper. Treated by their secret methods, it guaranteed a single successful inscription—an almost divine advantage.
But tragically, the sect had been devastated in the Great Calamity, and the technique was lost. Now, the few remaining sheets were jealously hoarded by master talisman artists across the Xuantian Continent.
The visiting Wen Shuangbai smiled faintly. With a flick of her sleeve, the paper, inkstone, and brushes vanished into her storage pouch.
On the Mystic Heaven Mirror, talisman artists were losing their minds.
[Lingshan Silk!!! Oh heavens! Junior Sister Wen, Senior Sister Wen—Granny Wen! Can I have just one sheet?!]
[Ahhh! I never thought I’d live to see Lingshan Silk Talisman Paper! My life is complete!]
[The Violet Flame Realm and Heavenly Net Witch sects are heading here too. Too bad—Qingling Mountain got there first.]
[What a shame. These items can be carried into later trials, and the two strongest sects missed out. They shouldn’t have picked the hardest quest first. If not for the demon beast at the village entrance, they’d have found this place ages ago.]
[We know you Violet Flame and Heavenly Net folks are seething. Hehe~]
【What kind of ridiculous luck is this, for Qingling Mountain to stumble upon it?】
【Don’t just call it luck—it’s clearly the skill of our junior disciples!】
【I wonder if the people from the Ten Thousand Saints Palace regret it now. If they hadn’t resorted to underhanded tricks, the Qingling Mountain disciples might not have been provoked into summoning that four-hundred-coin spirit so quickly. Then they wouldn’t have found Aunt Lu’s place so soon, and all these treasures might not have ended up in Qingling Mountain’s hands.】
【Hahaha, many thanks to the Ten Thousand Saints Palace for helping Qingling Mountain secure the Spirit Veil Silk and those precious herbs!】
Before the Mystic Heaven Mirror, the faces of the Ten Thousand Saints Palace members twisted in fury.
