The corpse had remained sealed under restrictions all this time, so its wounds were still fresh—each slash carefully deliberated and meticulously inflicted by Qin Sang.
Qin Sang raised a hand to hang the mustard seed bag at the corpse's waist, then took out a corpse coffin and strapped it onto the corpse's back.
At the same time, he carefully circulated the *Spirit Concealment Art* to suppress his aura.
In the jade slip, he had noted that until the refining process was complete, the refined corpse could not be used in combat.
This was indeed the truth. At this stage of corpse refinement, the golden core resided within the sea of qi, barely kept in check by the corpse-refining restrictions. Rashly mobilizing the sea of qi and breaking this balance would trigger a backlash from the golden core.
Having made these preparations, Qin Sang had already arrived in the vicinity of the Qingyang Demonic Sect's mountain gate. Hiding in the shadows, he gazed toward the sect.
Towering mountains, lush and verdant.
At the edge of the ranges, white clouds drifted lazily and immortal cranes called, painting a scene worthy of an immortal paradise—one that made it hard to believe this was truly the domain of a demonic sect.
The Qingyang Demonic Sect was divided into three layers: outer sect, inner sect, and restricted ground, all sealed by spirit formations.
The outer sect served as a reception area for guests, as well as the site for the sect's reared spirit beasts, herb gardens, and other auxiliary operations.
The verdant mountains Qin Sang now saw belonged to the Qingyang Demonic Sect's outer sect.
There were eight such green peaks in total, arranged with remarkable regularity across the eight cardinal and intercardinal directions of the Qingyang Demonic Sect. It was hard to say whether some mighty expert had rearranged them using mountain-moving divine abilities; otherwise, they could never have been aligned so neatly.
As far as Qin Sang's gaze could reach, atop the green mountain directly to the south lay a flight of white jade stone steps leading straight to the summit, disappearing into a sea of clouds.
The mountain gate of the Qingyang Demonic Sect was hidden at the top of the white jade steps; anyone wishing to enter the Qingyang Demonic Sect had to take this path up the mountain.
Beyond the outer sect lay the inner sect, where disciples of the Qingyang Demonic Sect cultivated.
The restricted ground was an area within the inner sect sealed by a grand formation, a vital core area of the Qingyang Demonic Sect heavily fortified with layers of restrictions. Fortunately, Qin Sang had no need to intrude into the restricted ground; Divine Astral Peak, where Qingyang astral qi fell from the heavens, was situated in the inner sect.
Qin Sang glanced toward the Qingyang Demonic Sect. In a wild, desolate expanse of mountains outside the gate, he found a secluded spot and buried all the treasures on his person deep underground, including his mustard seed bags, corpse puppet pouch, and spirit beast bag, carefully concealing them beneath restrictions.
Having done all this, Qin Sang still felt a hint of unease—his entire net worth was buried here, after all. Only after inspecting everything thoroughly did he quietly slip away.
By now, morning glow appeared in the distant east; the morning sun was about to rise.
Qin Sang hastened his pace, speeding through the forested mountains straight toward the southwest.
He had already strayed far from the direction of Qingyang Market. However, Wuya Valley was close to the Qingyang Demonic Sect, and Qingyang Market was the largest cultivation market in the surrounding cultivation world, so he might encounter cultivators who liked roaming the wilderness. Thus, Qin Sang remained exceptionally cautious in his movements.
Crossing dozens of ridges and rivers in succession, he did not encounter a single soul.
Arriving at a mountain hollow, Qin Sang suddenly halted his figure.
To the west of the Qingyang Demonic Sect lay a mortal kingdom, a realm subservient to the sect.
Traveling an equal distance further to the southwest would bring one to one of the border cities of this mortal kingdom—a small city called Qingcheng, inhabited entirely by mortals.
Qingcheng sat right on the border. To the east, there were no mortal cities, only wild and desolate mountains; because of its proximity to Wuya Valley, it was mostly cultivators who roamed here.
And this mountain hollow where Qin Sang stood was the path one had to pass through when traveling from Qingcheng to the Qingyang Demonic Sect.
He restrained his aura, dropped softly into the hollow, looked around, and set to work. Starting from the entrance of the hollow, he laid down mottled bloodstains, chaotic footprints, disrupted spiritual energy fluctuations, bent and snapped foliage...
Before long, the hollow's appearance had changed drastically. Qin Sang had arranged it into the false scene of a severely injured cultivator who had fought desperately to escape pursuers, only to exhaust his life force upon reaching this place and perish in the hollow.
Finally, Qin Sang placed the corpse at the end of the blood trail, leaving it sprawled face down among the wild grass.
Combined with the tampering Qin Sang had done on the corpse, unless one had staged it personally, stumbling across this setup would make it hard to spot any flaws at first glance.
Out of caution, Qin Sang still checked everything over carefully. Flitting over to the corpse, he suddenly summoned a surge of corpse qi from within his body, letting it flood through him.
In an instant, Qin Sang's appearance changed drastically.
A green face, protruding fangs, a hideously ferocious expression—he took on the exact likeness of a genuine refined corpse, his original features completely undetectable.
"Fortunately, once I suppress the corpse qi later, I'll return to normal quickly. Otherwise, walking around with this face, I'd probably find it impossible to take a single step in the cultivation world," Qin Sang muttered to himself, touching his cheek.
Disguised as a refined corpse, he naturally couldn't use restrictions to conceal his face; he had no choice but to rely on corpse qi to alter it.
The fame of the Shadowless Sword was known far and wide across Luandao Waters. Qin Sang now had a modest reputation, and there was no guaranteeing he wouldn't be recognized.
Then, Qin Sang tossed the corpse coffin casually not far from the corpse, slipped into the coffin, and waited patiently.
As for the person who would bring him into the Qingyang Demonic Sect, Qin Sang had not chosen him at random.
Over the twenty-eight years he spent at Qingyang Market, Qin Sang had cast aside the airs of a high-stage cultivator to frequently interact with Qingyang Demonic Sect disciples, compiling mental dossiers on all the Qingyang Demonic Sect cultivators he regularly associated with.
For those with higher cultivation, he had less contact and knew little about them.
However, he was very familiar with those below Foundation Establishment, as well as several early Foundation Establishment cultivators.
The man he had chosen now was named Yu Batian, an early Foundation Establishment cultivator.
This man possessed decent natural talent and had reached Foundation Establishment smoothly, yet he had been stuck at the bottleneck of the middle Foundation Establishment stage for decades, unable to break through—somewhat reminiscent of Yu Daiyue back in the day.
However, his temperament was far inferior to Yu Daiyue's.
While Yu Daiyue had ultimately succumbed to inner demons and murdered fellow disciples, he had been driven mad only after exhausting every avenue and reaching a dead end.
Qin Sang had interacted with Yu Batian many times.
In conversation, Yu Batian constantly whined and blamed heaven and earth. His favorite topics were how so-and-so was favored by sect elders, or how someone had stumbled upon an immense fortuitous opportunity or an exceptional treasure out in the world.
Whenever famous cultivators were mentioned, he would without exception attribute their achievements entirely to luck, even if it was a senior fellow disciple he knew very well.
Then he would lament his own poor fortune, complaining that he had never received a decent opportunity, and curse the unfairness of the heavenly dao for leaving him trapped at a bottleneck.
Yet looking at Yu Batian himself, he was no ascetic cultivator. After meditating in his cave dwelling for just a few days, he would grow thoroughly impatient and leave the mountains to drink and carouse. When hunting monsters in Wuya Valley with fellow disciples, he was always the first to turn back.
As for the Ancient Immortal Battlefield, he had never set foot there even once.
Furthermore, he harbored a fondness for mortal pleasures and was blinded by lust, which only intensified as he aged.
He had amassed stunning mortal women on a grand scale, keeping them in Qingcheng. Every once in a while, under the guise of going out for practical cultivation, he would spend several days in Qingcheng indulging himself.
Since Yu Batian craved a fortuitous encounter so badly, Qin Sang decided to grant him one.
Qin Sang had calculated that today was the day Yu Batian would finish enjoying himself and return from Qingcheng.
Chapter 515