85: Chapter 85 The Black Lotus's Strange Movement

Wang Shouren lowered his sword light and landed silently behind an old locust tree on the edge of the open space.

As he got closer, the bloody stench in the air could no longer be hidden.

The smell was not strong, but it carried a freshness unique to those who had just died, mixed with the soil and wild grass scents, wafting over in waves with the afternoon wind.

He originally didn't want to meddle in Mortal grudges; people were dying every moment in this world, and he couldn't manage them all, nor did he want to.

But since he was passing by and had seen it, he had to take a look.

He cast an invisibility spell on himself, stepped out from behind the tree, and saw the situation in the open space clearly.

Several dilapidated earth houses leaned crookedly at the end of the open space. The doors had long since rotted away, and the windows were left with only a few pitch-black holes.

In the center of the open space, a group of half-grown children were gathered. The oldest was only eleven or twelve, and the youngest was only eight or nine. They were dressed quite well; fine cotton clothes were considered those of a well-to-do family in a Mortal village.

They formed a circle, kicking, whipping with branches, and pelting with lumps of earth picked up from the ground at a little girl huddled on the ground in the center of the circle.

The girl was as thin as a bean sprout, her hair was matted into felt, and she wore a tattered hemp jacket picked up from somewhere. Her exposed arms and calves were covered with overlapping new and old bruises and bloodstains.

"Little girl! Let you run! Let you run!" A chubby boy kicked the girl hard on the lower back, sending her sprawling forward, her face slamming into the muddy ground.

"Stinking beggar! Young Master Haifang letting you be a dog is looking high upon you, how dare you still run?"

Another tall, thin boy swung a branch and slapped it heavily across her back. The tattered hemp jacket split open, revealing the bruised skin underneath.

"Don't hit her head, if she gets beaten stupid, it won't be fun anymore."

Beside them, a child in a blue cloth shirt squatted on the ground, tilting his head with a cheeky grin as he looked at the girl. "Why aren't you crying or begging for mercy? Beg Young Master Haifang to spare your life; when the young master is happy, maybe he'll let you eat your fill?"

"Eat my fill?" The girl was stunned, but shortly after, someone slapped her hard across the face.

Outside the circle, a fat youth wearing a brocade short jacket was sitting on a wooden box moved from who knows where, cracking melon seeds.

At eleven or twelve years of age, the flesh on his face squeezed his eyes into two slits. Hanging from his waist was a decent-quality jade pendant, and his lapel was embroidered with an "Yan" crest the size of a fingernail.

Melon seed shells were scattered all over his feet. Occasionally, he raised his eyelids to glance at the center of the circle, his gaze not looking like he was looking at a human being, but rather like a mouse pinned beneath a cat's paws.

"That's enough."

The fat youth scattered the remaining melon seeds in his hand onto the ground, dusted off the crumbs on his hands, and walked leisurely over to the girl to squat down.

"Little beggar, this young master will give you one more chance. Kneel down, kowtow three loud heads, and say 'Young Master Haifang, I was wrong.' This young master will let you die a quick death. How about it, am I merciful enough?"

The girl lay flat on the ground, her face buried in the mud, her two hands tightly shielding her chest.

Only then did Wang Shouren see clearly what she was protecting in her arms—a meat bun.

The bun's wrapper was so dirty its original color was indistinguishable, covered in soil and grass clippings, deformed by pressure. The oil from the filling seeped out from the cracks, dripping down mixed with muddy water.

She stuffed the bun into her mouth, her teeth biting into the already dry and hardened skin. Using all her strength, she tore off a piece, chewed it twice mixed with the blood in her mouth before swallowing it, and then took another bite.

The fists, kicks, and branches landing on her body seemed to be felt by her no longer, or perhaps she was long used to it. She only curled up tighter, protecting the bun more deeply, stuffing it into her mouth bite after bite.

The long-dormant black lotus mark between Wang Shouren's brows suddenly moved.

It wasn't an imperceptible tremor, but rather like being suddenly awakened from a deep sleep by something. The petals opened and closed in layers, and a fluctuation stronger than ever before surged out from between his brows, rushing straight through the Meridians into the Sea of Consciousness.

He had suppressed it for a full two years, subduing it with the intent of fierce thunder and suppressing it with the Ten Directions Fierce Thunder Transformation. It had lain dormant quietly, never showing any unusual movement.

Yet at this moment, it seemed to be thoroughly awakened by something.

Upon careful sensing, it was shockingly because of that little girl.

His expression remained unperturbed, but turbulent waves had already risen in his heart.

Back then, when facing Hu Shan at the Foundation Establishment Stage and Elder Hua at the Late Stage of Foundation Establishment, this black lotus hadn't reacted at all. Why was it suddenly stirring before such a little girl with zero cultivation?

"Whenever things are abnormal, demons are afoot. It is indeed rare for something to make the black lotus's heart stir."

Magic Treasures have spirits. For a black lotus, which is more Advanced than a Magic Treasure, to react made it worth his while to intervene once.

"Stop!"

Those few half-grown children were beating away energetically when, unexpectedly, an adult appeared in front of them, and they all froze for a second.

The chubby boy was the first to snap back to his senses, tilting his head up to glare at Wang Shouren and curse, "Where did this blind thing come from? You dare meddle in Young Master Haifang's business?"

The tall, thin one also poked a branch at his chest: "Step aside! If you don't, we'll beat you up together!"

Wang Shouren did not look at them.

He lowered his head to glance at the girl who was still desperately stuffing the bun into her mouth on the ground, then raised his eyes, casting his gaze past those children and landing on the fat youth surnamed Yan sitting on the wooden box.

Yan Haifang still had half a melon seed in his mouth. Taken aback by this uninvited guest who dropped from the sky, he immediately frowned, spat the melon seed shell onto the ground, and shrilly said,

"Who do you think you are? This young master is teaching a little beggar a lesson, is it your turn to be a busybody?" He waved his hand and said to those children, "What are you staring for? Beat him up together! If he's beaten to death, this young master will take responsibility!"

Receiving the order, the five children rolled up their sleeves and rushed toward Wang Shouren.

Wang Shouren didn't make a move; he only let out a cold hum.

An aura of the fierce thunder intent overflowed from his entire body—just the slightest trace of it, yet those five children were struck in the head as if by an invisible hammer. Blood gushed simultaneously from their seven orifices, their pupils suddenly dilated, and their bodies collapsed softly.

The melon seed in Yan Haifang's mouth dropped.

His eyes widened as he looked at the five corpses on the ground with grievance unredressed in death. The flesh on his face twitched twice, and he abruptly leaped off the wooden box, screaming toward the earth house, "Uncle Pang! Uncle Pang! Someone is killing my people!"

The door of the earth house creaked open, and an old man in gray robes walked out from inside.

He was thin and lean with a rigid expression, and a dark red sash was tied around his waist.

He glanced at the five corpses on the ground, then looked at Wang Shouren, his brow slightly furrowed—he actually couldn't make out the young man's cultivation level.

However, he didn't care too much either. Secret techniques for concealing cultivation in the cultivation world were not rare, and he himself had cultivated one.

The level of cultivation in the Qi Refinement Stage largely depended on age. This kid was only a little over twenty; no matter how good his Aptitude was, cultivating to the fourth or fifth layer of Qi Refining would already be the absolute limit.

"Fellow Daoist." The elder surnamed Pang cupped his hands, his tone neither humble nor arrogant, even carrying a bit of seasoned amiability. "This old man is under the Yan Family, surnamed Pang. Fellow Daoist looks unfamiliar; I wonder which talented expert of the Wang family you are? Today's matter was merely our young master teaching a blind little beggar a lesson, just children playing around. If Fellow Daoist is willing to let this pass here, this old man will pretend he didn't see these few corpses, and things will look better for both families in the future."

Wang Shouren glanced at him indifferently. "You are not yet worthy to know my name."

He raised his hand, his five fingers slightly spread, and crimson-gold thunder light lit up in his palm.

The light was blindingly bright, causing the elder surnamed Pang's pupils to contract abruptly, and the consistent composure on his aged face finally shattered.