"Creak..."
As the aged wooden door was pushed open, it let out a grating scrape. Immediately following, the scene inside Ding room came into Wang Ping's view.
Just as he had expected.
In a dim corner of the room stood the remains of a fire pit, filled with blackened bone fragments that had long since been burned to a cinder, surrounded by scattered dark brown bloodstains.
Clearly, Lin Sheng had maintained proper human conduct quite thoroughly.
At least toward that unforgivable criminal in Ding room, he hadn't let a scrap go to waste, nor had he chosen to eat him raw and unclean. He had even built a fire.
Using the man's own bones.
Taken from man, used for man—in the truest sense of the phrase. Most of the baleful resentment pervading the room was concentrated right on that burnt-out fire.
"Now this is an entirely different matter..."
Wang Ping's expression grew solemn. Merely having one's food stolen and starving to death was despairing, and it certainly generated baleful resentment, but that still fell within normal bounds.
Being eaten alive, however, was another thing entirely. It wasn't just agony for the victim; for Lin Sheng, who did the killing and consuming, it was an immense torment as well. Upon his death, this would likewise spawn baleful resentment, and the total amount would likely be several times higher than Wang Ping's previous estimate.
*In other words... it is enough to give birth to a fiend.*
In the immortal sects, fiends were mere tools for cultivators, hardly anything formidable, and often required swarming in packs alongside formations to display real power.
In Dashun, however, it was a completely different story.
After all, formless, intangible fiends feared neither blade nor spear, and their direct assaults on the soul dealt what amounted to unmitigated damage to martial artists, who had virtually no means of defense against them.
*Is this Xu Bingzheng's objective? The Imperial Academy's goal?*
Wang Ping's brow furrowed. Circumstances like those in the Lin family residence were certainly not isolated. Was Xu Bingzheng trying to use this method to cultivate an army of fiends?
To use against martial artists?
It sounded plausible enough, yet Wang Ping still felt something was amiss. The reason was simple: compared to such a grand objective, the Imperial Academy's methods were far too crude.
If it were him, he would never stage such things in a mere Longxing County. It was far too conspicuous and easily uncovered. If scattered across Dashun's eight circuits, twenty-four prefectures, three hundred and sixty subprefectures, and thousands of county seats, who could possibly notice?
With this thought, Wang Ping reached a conclusion:
*Nurturing fiends is likely just a prelude, a preliminary preparation. The Imperial Academy needs these fiends to accomplish an even greater objective.*
Which brought him to the next question:
*Would an objective that the Imperial Academy spent so much effort to pursue... be pinned solely upon a county magistrate like Xu Bingzheng, a mere titled martial master?*
Something wasn't right!
Putting himself in their shoes, Wang Ping reasoned that if they truly intended to carry out a monumental undertaking, having at least a martial arts grandmaster overseeing it would be reliable; a titled martial master simply lacked the stature.
What was more, even among titled martial masters, neither Xu Bingzheng nor Li Yiran possessed sufficient strength to suppress unforeseen variables.
Thus, there were only two possibilities.
Either his deduction was flawed and this matter wasn't so critical to the Imperial Academy, or the person truly in charge had yet to make a move...
*...Not good!*
Instantly, alarm bells rang in Wang Ping's mind. *I've done so much already. If the true mastermind finds out, they will surely view me as a thorn in their side.*
*They will want me dead!*
............
Outside Longxing County.
Deep within a mountain forest, shrouded beneath thick canopies of trees, one could vaguely make out a crudely built sacrificial altar. Atop it stood a straw effigy.
Below the altar, Yan Weichuan, commander of the Tabai Battalion, felt his scalp tingle with dread. Though the weather over the past two days had warmed somewhat, right now he felt a chill seeping into the marrow of his bones. A freezing wind whistled past his ears, and though nothing met his eyes, he couldn't shake the sensation that something was drifting around them.
*Too sinister!*
*No wonder the higher-ups warned us to avoid dealing with these thaumaturges if possible.*
Yan Weichuan swallowed hard, then turned his gaze back to the altar. Below the straw effigy, two pale figures were performing full prostrations in solemn worship.
At first glance, both looked like living people of flesh and blood.
Yet in the eyes of a true martial arts expert, neither of them had a pulse nor the sound of flowing blood. Their pale skin had an unnaturally paper-thin quality.
Their facial expressions, especially: although vivid and capable of shifting like those of the living, in the subtlest details they remained utterly stiff. It was like an exquisite painting—lifelike enough to pass for real, yet ultimately an inanimate, dead object.
Life and death, motion and stillness.
This extreme contradiction and dissonance gave Yan Weichuan an almost visceral revulsion, prompting him to back away from the two figures once more.
Resurrection through paper figures was truly a peerless, arcane wonder... Yet looking at them, Yan Weichuan couldn't help but wonder: *Are they truly Xu Bingzheng and Li Yiran?*
Was remaining here right or wrong?
At this thought, regret finally welled within him. But things had progressed too far; there was no turning back now. He had no choice but to see this dark path through to the bitter end.
*Thud! Thud! Thud!*
After three kneelings and nine kowtows, one raised a hammer while the other held a nail. With forceful strikes against the top of the straw effigy's head, metallic clangs rang out.
Almost at the same instant.
"...Hm?"
In Longxing County, before the gates of the Lin family residence, Wang Ping's true body suddenly swayed. An inexplicable drowsiness surfaced in his mind, only to dissipate into nothingness a moment later.
It all happened too fast.
So fast that Wang Ping merely felt he had spaced out for a brief second without noticing anything amiss. In the past, he likely wouldn't have suspected a thing.
Now, however, he instantly grew vigilant. *I have already cultivated spiritual awareness, and I possess the divine intent of a martial artist. How could I suddenly lose focus?*
Something was wrong!
With that, Wang Ping immediately circulated his spiritual sense with all his might to inspect his own condition. To his horror, however, he found nothing at all.
*Damn it,* Wang Ping gritted his teeth in secret.
Failing to detect a problem could only mean the problem was extraordinarily grave!
*Could it be some kind of thaumaturgy?*
Wang Ping took a deep breath, the panic in his eyes swiftly settling. He sank his consciousness into the Mortuary, where the luminous Fiend from Beyond served as his greatest reassurance.
*It doesn't matter. Even if I die, I can resurrect.*
In a flash, Wang Ping sorted out his thoughts. *This life can be forfeited, but it must not be wasted for nothing. I have to maximize its utility.*
*First, I must figure out what method they are using.*
He couldn't fall into the same pit twice. Before dying, he had to discover exactly what occult art this was, what its effects were, and how to guard against it.
*Second, I must continue investigating.*
Based on past experience, when he resurrected next time, it would likely still tie back to Longxing County. In that case, investigating held great significance.
*The secrets of the Lin family residence haven't been fully uncovered yet, and they pertain to the Imperial Academy's major operation here. If I can get to the bottom of it, it will provide new insights and directions for when I start over after resurrecting. Otherwise, I would just be feeling my way across the river, running in circles with little hope of a breakthrough.*
*Finally, martial arts.*
Wang Ping flexed his hands, feeling the magnificent, colossal power circulating within him. This was the military art enhancement stemming from the perfected Thirteen Taipo Horizontal Training Hard Qi Art.
He had borrowed it using A Promise Worth a Thousand Gold.
*I should try to repay this loan before dying. Otherwise, having an outstanding loan prevents me from borrowing new things, which really hinders my Peerless Debtor talent.*
With that thought, Wang Ping immediately turned around.
Now that his objectives were set, it was time to act. The investigation could be handled by his paper double, but the other two tasks required his true body's personal effort.
.............
Inside the Lin family residence.
After stalling for a brief moment, the paper double Wang Ping reopened his eyes. There was no telling when the crisis would strike; until then, he had to race against time.
"This room..."
Looking around Ding room, Wang Ping began searching for clues. Yet calling it a search was an overstatement; clues were everywhere, carved directly into the room's walls.
They were dense, tightly packed personal accounts, lamentations, and sorrowful cries.
The strokes were upright and forceful. Wang Ping recognized the handwriting.
"It's Lin Sheng."
This was another form of a diary. Judging by the smoothness of the script, the tool used for carving must have been a precious blade capable of slicing iron like clay.
Soon, Wang Ping found the earliest carving.
It was located near the doorway of Ding room, beneath the threshold. One could easily imagine Lin Sheng sitting on the threshold as he carved this line.
*I'm hungry.*
*That death-row inmate... what was his name again? Oh, right, Zhu Wu. He's cowering in the corner, staring at me in terror. Truly laughable.*
*When I hurled that dossier into his face, he denied everything at first. Once I exposed him, he flew into a rage from embarrassment and tried to attack me. After I beat him senseless, he fell to his knees, weeping and begging for mercy. Turns out he fears death after all, even though he murdered three people.*
*He shouldn't be alive.*
At this point, the writing grew slightly disordered:
*Fine... I admit I'm looking for excuses. I'm getting hungrier and hungrier. I can even begin to smell him.*
*That death-row prisoner... he smells so delicious.*
*I want so badly to take a bite. I can even hear the blood flowing in his veins, like a babbling brook, making me yearn to drink my fill.*
*But this is wrong.*
*He might deserve to die, even by slicing, but not like this.*
*Xu Bingzheng, that corrupt dog of an official, wants nothing more than to see this happen. I cannot give him what he wants. I must hold out. I will hold out...*
*But I'm so hungry.*
*So hungry.*
*So hungry.*
*So hungry!*
The further along it went, the more frantic the writing became.
The locations of the carvings also shifted: from below the threshold to near the tables and chairs, then toward the center of the room—creeping steadily closer to a specific spot in the corner.
In the end, it degenerated into nonsensical scrawls and doodles.
Frowning, Wang Ping followed the carvings until he stopped before the ashes of the bone fire. Letting out a soft sigh, he brushed aside the remains of the fire.
Beneath the ashes lay the final line Lin Sheng had left in this room. The writing had become legible once more, yet gone was the upright vigor from the beginning; instead, it was fragmented and feeble. The hands that carved these words had surely been trembling ceaselessly, leaving their mark on the stone:
*I couldn't hold back.*
Looking at those four words under the fire pit, Wang Ping shook his head. He wasn't particularly surprised; after all, he had experienced a similar hunger firsthand.
*Life-Stealing Thief.*
That peculiar cultivation art obtained from the immortal sect often caused him to crave others' vital essence, so he knew all too well that this kind of hunger was not something one could simply endure by sheer willpower.
Especially when ample "justification" existed, holding back became all the more difficult.
"A condemned prisoner, an unforgivable murderer—as an excuse, nothing could be more convenient. In fact, it would have been abnormal if Lin Sheng hadn't given in."
The real problem lay in what followed.
"Ding room was merely the first step to break Lin Sheng's bottom line. After all, if a murderer can be eaten, what about a child trafficker? What about a fraudster?"
That was how a person's moral threshold was eroded, step by step.
"So that's why four different types of people were locked in the four rooms..." A bone-deep chill washed over Wang Ping as he truly grasped the mind of Xu Bingzheng, who had laid this trap.
Sinister, shrewd, and utterly cruel.
What was even more horrifying was that none of this stemmed from any deep personal grudge between Xu Bingzheng and Lin Sheng; it was driven purely by a simpler objective.
*He needs a fiend.*
*And to nurture that fiend, Lin Sheng and the captives in all four rooms were treated as mere instruments, their value as human sacrifices thoroughly extracted.*
At this thought, Wang Ping couldn't help but sigh softly.
Stepping out of Ding room and arriving before the door of Bing room, Wang Ping cast his eyes downward and immediately spotted a messy passage carved into the floor tiles before the entrance.
*I was ridding the people of a menace.*
*Zhu Wu was a condemned criminal to begin with, beyond redemption. Furthermore, while I was trying my hardest to hold back, he plotted to take my life—proof that his wicked nature remained unchanged.*
*He got what he deserved!*
*In any case, I am no longer hungry. Everything ends here...*
".........."
Wang Ping shook his head. He could read the wavering in that chaotic handwriting. Lin Sheng had already crossed the line, and the sensation of having his hunger sated was now etched into his memory.
Once satisfied, enduring hunger would only become harder.
*Ends here?*
Impossible. It would only escalate.
"Creak..."
Pushing open the second door, the scene inside Bing room entered Wang Ping's view. And the first thing that caught his eye was a line written on the doorframe:
*I'm hungry again.*
Chapter 55