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Chapter 87
Lin Du’s spiritual sense stirred restlessly, but just as she was about to act, a hand was suddenly placed on her shoulder. “Uncle Junior Master, let’s go. We’re heading to Qinglu Village.”
It was Mo Lin.
He rarely ever initiated physical contact with Lin Du.
Suppressing her doubts, Lin Du thanked the two girls once again and closed the door.
Almost at the very moment the door closed, Lin Du caught a glimpse of the two girls turning in unison and heading back inside. Their silver ornaments jingled softly as they moved.
As the group walked out of the alley, Mo Lin finally spoke, his sword-like brows slightly furrowed. “They were corpse puppets.”
Lin Du’s heart skipped a beat, her mind quickly recalling what she had read in her notes just the other day.
Xia Tianwu nodded in agreement. “Indeed, they appeared no different from living people. The strange flowers and vines masked the scent of death, which is why you didn’t sense the lack of life force in them. The person who refined them has an exceptional technique—there’s almost no difference between their bodies and how they were before death. Their expressions and tone of voice have been preserved from when they were young girls, and…”
“Those two girls must have died in happiness, which is why there wasn’t a trace of resentment on them.”
Lin Du remembered now. In the western region of Yunnan, there was a group known as the Corpse Refiners who turned corpses into puppets. Most of the time, these corpse puppets could only follow basic commands and retained a ghastly appearance from the time they were refined. They typically emitted an intense, ominous aura and were nothing like the cheerful, talkative girls they had just encountered.
At first, Lin Du had suspected they were conscious puppets but felt something was off, which is why she hesitated to confirm her suspicions.
According to her books, there was a type of corpse puppet that was unaware it had died.
Mo Lin must have stopped her from investigating further to avoid provoking the corpse puppets.
It was true—practical experience was much more valuable than theories from books. Lin Du absentmindedly twirled the folding fan in her hand.
Tao Xian had overheard the conversation but remained silent, mechanically following along.
“Taoist Tao, could you go ask for directions? Or do you already know the way to that village?” Lin Du turned her head toward Tao Xian.
Only then did Tao Xian snap out of his daze. “I’m afraid we’ll need to ask for directions.”
Although he was from the Yunnan region and familiar with the local power dynamics and customs, they were now in the western part of Yunnan, beyond the influence of the Feixing Sect. The small mountain villages scattered around here were difficult to locate.
Lin Du responded with an “Oh,” and added, “I thought Taoist Tao would be familiar with the villages around here.”
After all, on the boat, he had mentioned that one could find fresh spiritual mushrooms in the mountain villages of western Yunnan, as it was their place of origin.
Perhaps, like her, his knowledge was only theoretical?
Tao Xian found a small vendor and asked for directions. The vendor had a cart full of mountain goods. Phoenix City was surrounded by mist, and though the sunlight wasn’t particularly harsh, Lin Du squinted her eyes.
She had an urge to knock on Tao Xian’s head to see what secrets he was hiding inside.
After all, he was from the Feixing Sect, and Lin Du couldn’t fully trust him.
Although this person emitted no trace of ominous energy, only the spiritual aura of a righteous cultivator, there was something undeniably strange about him.
Since they had left early that morning and arrived in Phoenix City by the afternoon, Shao Fei and Mo Lin, being ordinary mortals, were already feeling hungry.
It wasn’t that they didn’t have fasting pills, but those were typically meant for brief retreats to mountain caves for meditation and cultivation. They weren’t ideal for people traveling on the road.
“Let’s eat first, then continue,” Lin Du decided, glancing at the shivering Mo Lin and the pale-faced Shao Fei.
Tao Xian hesitated for a moment. “Don’t you Taoists use fasting pills?”
“Those things are kind of cloying,” Lin Du crossed her arms, “and they don’t fill you up.”
She had read that fasting pills were made from ingredients like ginseng, poria, white atractylodes, yam, astragalus, red dates, and sometimes peanuts, chestnuts, or walnuts, depending on how wealthy the sect was. Some even used soybeans.
In simple terms, it was a concentrated dose of protein, carbohydrates, and unsaturated fats.
These pills were mostly used by cultivators in seclusion, where the low energy expenditure from sitting in meditation meant just a few pills could provide all the necessary nutrients for a day.
But Lin Du was still growing and was famously always hungry. Mo Lin, who regularly trained his body, was constantly starving. Their basal metabolic rates were unusually high, and they would need to eat a lot of fasting pills to feel full.
Neither of them liked taking them.
In the Supreme Sect, fasting pills were rarely used unless necessary, as cultivators who reached the fourth realm would eventually no longer need to eat or drink.
Tao Xian: … These spoiled rich kids.
Did they know how expensive genuine spirit-infused food was out in the world?
If the food wasn’t grown in spirit fields, it would be full of impurities, which was bad for cultivation.
These people acted like pampered nobles, as if it were nothing.
Tao Xian quietly pleaded, “I’m just a regular disciple of the Feixing Sect, and I still have to save money for a wife. Please spare me, Taoist.”
“Doesn’t your sect provide funds for hospitality?” Lin Du asked.
It seemed the Feixing Sect’s finances weren’t great. What kind of respectable organization wouldn’t budget for hospitality expenses for their external affairs personnel?
Tao Xian felt as if he’d been stabbed in the chest and miserably shook his head.
“Well, forget it then,” Lin Du relented, showing a bit of conscience. “But you don’t even have a wife yet, so why are you saving up for one?”
In the cultivation world, most sects were supportive of their disciples finding romantic partners, except for a few with unique doctrines.
Tao Xian scratched his head. “I joined the sect to save up for a wife.”
As he said this, he suddenly felt confused. Why was he saving up for a wife?
Maybe it was just because, in these times, getting married required a lot of money?
In the end, the five of them found a small shop that served rice noodles.
The contrast between the three Supreme Sect members in their luxurious robes and the shabby little shop was stark, but they didn’t seem to mind. Inside, only a husband and wife ran the place—one serving food and the other cooking noodles, while the smell of spicy and sour broth filled the air.
“Boss, let’s start with twelve bowls of goose noodle soup,” Mo Lin ordered as usual. “Flat or round noodles? Flat ones.”
Tao Xian blinked. “Master Mo Lin, isn’t twelve bowls a bit too much? I only need one, and Shao Fei probably only…”
Mo Lin glanced back at Tao Xian. “Oh, you two are eating too?”
“Boss, add two more bowls. Charge us separately.”
Tao Xian: ?
He looked helplessly at Lin Du, only to see the young boy’s delicate face full of confusion before Lin Du casually added, “Will twelve bowls be enough? The girl at the door told me each bowl only weighs about two ounces. How about we each have five bowls?”
Tao Xian clutched his chest. Why had he expected Lin Du to say something sensible?
The five of them crowded around a small, battered wooden table, marked with knife scars. As soon as the first four bowls arrived, Lin Du pushed two bowls toward the Feixing Sect members.
Tao Xian felt touched, but then he saw Lin Du and Mo Lin each take a bowl, and the aloof female cultivator, who had yet to speak to him, handed them chopsticks without changing her expression. “Eat quickly before you pass out from hunger. Your body temperature is already colder than ice.”
Tao Xian suddenly found the noodles in his bowl less appetizing. He was an idiot for forgetting that these two were injured, and Shao Fei—how could she even be eating?
But Tao Xian’s guilt was quickly replaced by astonishment as the two Supreme Sect disciples devoured their noodles. Before Shao Fei had even finished her first bite, both bowls in front of Lin Du and Mo Lin were already empty.
“Ah, still so hungry,” Lin Du said, wiping her mouth with a handkerchief handed to her by Xia Tianwu. The spicy, sour flavors of Phoenix City’s broth had soaked into the flat noodles, and the goose meat had been stewed so tender that it slid down her throat with ease.
One bowl to whet the appetite, two to stave off hunger, three for flavor, four to feel half-full, and five to finish.
Meanwhile, Tao Xian and Shao Fei hadn’t even finished their first bowl.
“Boss, the bill,” Lin Du stood up and instinctively paid for twelve bowls of noodles, then glanced at the stunned Tao Xian. “Are you done yet? Finish up so we can get back on the road.”
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