Longevity: Starting as a menial servant in the Green Wood Sect

A blue rainbow pierced the sun, its imposing aura as heavy as a mountain.

The middle-aged scholar in the moon-white Taoist robe did not land, but hovered a hundred feet above Youying Valley, his indifferent gaze sweeping over the mess below, as if looking at a group of ants fighting for food.

"Trying to escape? Once you join my Green Wood Sect, escape won't be so easy!"

Han Qingsong gave a soft hum, the sound not loud, but it clearly penetrated the eardrums of everyone present, making their blood surge.

He raised his right hand, his sleeve billowing in the wind, without even making a hand seal, he simply pressed down in the air.

Rumble!

The swirling black mist and demonic energy above Ghost Valley instantly solidified. Countless azure-green spiritual lights converged out of thin air, transforming in the blink of an eye into a giant wooden hand, roughly an acre in diameter. The wood grain on that hand was as clear as ravines, and each line emanated a suffocating spiritual pressure.

"The Great Handprint of Yi Wood".

Tu Lie below felt a terrifying aura, as if Mount Tai were pressing down on him, and his purplish-red muscles trembled violently. As a demonic cultivator at the seventh level of Qi Refining, he naturally recognized this as a spiritual energy transformation technique that only Foundation Establishment cultivators could use.

"Open it for me!"

Tu Lie roared, his eyes bloodshot, and he bit his tongue, spitting a mouthful of his life essence onto the pale white bone shield. The bone shield swelled in the wind, growing to over ten feet in size, with countless vengeful spirits wailing and swirling on it, trying to block the descending giant hand of green wood.

However, it was nothing more than an ant trying to shake a tree; the difference in their levels was enough to force him to submit.

Click!

The moment the giant hand of the aoki fell, the seemingly indestructible bone shield shattered like a crisp biscuit. Then, the giant hand struck Tu Lie without any resistance.

"No--!"

A desperate scream abruptly ended.

Dust flew everywhere, and the earth trembled violently.

As the giant green wooden hand dissipated into specks of spiritual light, only a massive palm print, several feet deep, remained where Tu Lie had stood. At the center of the palm print, the once invincible "mountain of flesh" had become a pile of unrecognizable flesh, and even the hard blood fork had been smashed into scrap metal.

One strike, instantly killing a Qi Refining Stage 7 cultivator.

This is the power of Foundation Establishment.

The remaining two Blood Blade Sect demonic cultivators were already terrified. They no longer cared about any sect mission and rushed like madmen towards the not-yet-completely-collapsed fissure in the ground, trying to burrow back underground.

"Since you're here, then stay and use as fertilizer."

Han Qingsong remained expressionless, his fingers twitching slightly.

Whoosh!Whoosh!

Suddenly, dozens of thick, green vines sprouted from the ground. These vines were no ordinary creatures; they were covered in barbs, gleamed with a metallic sheen, and moved with lightning speed.

Before the two demonic cultivators even reached the edge of the fissure, their ankles were tightly bound by vines.

"Spare me! Senior, spare me..."

*Thud!* The vines tightened abruptly, their barbs piercing flesh and instantly strangling the two men to death. Blood dripped down the vines, seeping into the already ravaged land.

After doing all this, Han Qingsong didn't even lift his eyelids. His gaze remained fixed on the ley line breach that was still spewing out black gas and magma, his brows furrowing slightly.

"Give it to me, seal it."

He held a yellowish-brown talisman in his hand and casually tossed it aside.

The talisman spontaneously combusted in the wind, transforming into a thick yellow light that disappeared into the ground.

Rumbling--

The earth seemed to come alive, the rocks on both sides like closed lips, squeezing inward with irresistible force. The grotesque crack in the ground quickly closed under the pressure of the earth's veins, and even the soaring black pillar of yin energy was forcibly severed.

In just ten breaths.

Aside from the mess and the strong stench of blood, this crisis, which was enough to overturn the outer defenses of the Green Wood Sect, was forcibly wiped out by this thunderous method.

……

A hollow underground cavity, with piles of rubble underneath.

Gu An curled up in a ball, his body in an extremely bizarre and twisted position.

The battle outside ended too quickly, so quickly that it startled him. This was the Foundation Establishment stage; Qi Refining cultivators truly didn't even have the right to fight to the death in front of them.

At this moment, Han Qingsong's divine sense was like a comb, sweeping over every inch of Youying Valley again and again.

Gu An knew that this was the most crucial moment.

Without hesitation, he forcefully channeled the last wisp of spiritual power, violently severing the meridians in his left arm. He then forced out a mouthful of black blood that had accumulated in his heart and lungs, held it in his mouth, and then let the blood slowly spill from the corner of his mouth.

Gu An silently recited the method of the Turtle Breathing Technique, and the deathly silence mode was activated in response.

His heart stopped beating completely, his blood congealed, and his body temperature plummeted to the level of the surrounding corpses. Only deep within his dantian remained a last, faint glimmer of life, enveloped by layers of deathly aura, like embers beneath ashes.

[Disguised under the pressure of a Foundation Establishment stage cultivator's divine sense, Turtle Breathing Technique experience +50]

[Turtle Breathing Technique Experience +50]

The numbers on the panel were jumping wildly, but Gu An had no time to pay attention. The terrifying feeling of being seen through from the inside out made his soul tremble.

Han Qingsong's divine sense swept over the ruins.

He first scanned the corpses of the demonic cultivators, confirming that none were alive. Then, his divine sense landed on Gu An.

Upon reaching the third level of Qi cultivation, one's meridians are severed, one's Qi becomes as faint as a thread, and one's internal organs are displaced by the shock.

"Hmm? There's still one survivor?"

Han Qingsong let out a soft "hmm," not paying much attention. The lives of menial disciples were cheap; to survive an impact of this level was mostly due to good luck, or perhaps they had just managed to hide in a corner of the earth's veins.

Just as he was about to withdraw his divine sense, his gaze was suddenly drawn to something that Gu An was tightly protecting in his arms.

It was a black wooden tobacco pouch broken in two.

Even after he had passed out, the boy's hand remained stiffly gripping the tattered tobacco pouch, his knuckles white, as if it were something more important than his life.

A flicker of surprise crossed Han Qingsong's eyes, but it quickly faded into indifference. The sentiments of ants are of no use to the great Dao.

He slowly descended, his toes touching a relatively clean boulder.

Upon landing, his gaze finally shifted from the corpse to his surroundings.

Upon seeing this, even with his Foundation Establishment stage composure, his pupils couldn't help but shrink slightly.

"This is……"

Han Qingsong flashed and appeared beside a fallen ghost mulberry tree. He reached out and picked up a strand of silver-gray silk thread hanging from a branch. He released a little spiritual energy from his fingertips and felt a slight resistance.

"Mysterious Yin Silk?!"

Han Qingsong suddenly looked up, his gaze sweeping across the entire valley.

Although most of the mulberry forest was destroyed by the explosion, among the remaining ruins, one could still vaguely see the dense gray cocoons and the spirit mulberries that had mutated into a deep purple color to adapt to the Yin meridians.

"The purity of this Xuan Yin Silk... even the inner sect's spirit plant garden, with its meticulous cultivation, may not produce such a quality."

Han Qingsong's expression changed.

I originally thought I was just here to casually kill a few rats and put out a fire. Little did I know that this Ghostly Valley, filled with deathly aura, was actually a treasure trove unrecorded by the sect!

If this amount of Xuan Yin Silk were used to refine robes or hidden weapons, it would be enough to arm an entire law enforcement team!

"Why is such an important resource site only marked as 'abandoned dead land' in the sect's records?"

A cold glint flashed in Han Qingsong's eyes. As the powerful elder in charge of the Spirit Plant Hall, he knew the distribution of resources within the sect like the back of his hand. Youying Valley was clearly a useless place that only produced inferior mulberry leaves.

Who is operating this place in secret?

And who is it that has kept this industry, which is worthy of being listed as a strategic resource of the sect, a secret?

Just then, a series of rapid and chaotic whooshing sounds came from the direction of the valley entrance.

A staggering beam of blue light broke through the mist and landed in the valley.

The person who arrived was Zhao Feng.

At this moment, Zhao Feng's hair was disheveled, and his face was as pale as paper. His former arrogant demeanor as a manager had completely vanished.

He looked at the razed Youying Valley, at the scattered corpses of demonic cultivators, and finally at Han Qingsong, who stood with his hands behind his back and a cold expression. His legs went weak, and he knelt down on the muddy ground.

"Your younger brother...disciple Zhao Feng, manager of the Bingzi District, pays respects to Elder Han!"

Zhao Feng's voice was trembling, his forehead was pressed tightly against the ground, and cold sweat instantly soaked his back.

It's over. He knew he was in trouble the moment he saw that towering black pillar. He rushed over with all his might, but he was still too late.

If it were just an ordinary demonic cultivator invading, that would be one thing, but the Xuan Yin Silk in Youying Valley... that was his private stash of funds, the capital he planned to use to break through to the late stage of Qi Refining or even higher.

Now that the lid has been lifted, his secret can probably no longer be kept hidden.

"Zhao Feng?"

Han Qingsong turned around, toying with the strand of silvery-gray silk in his hand, his tone unreadable, "This Youying Valley, are you in charge of it?"

"Reporting to Elder, it is...it is under my jurisdiction." Zhao Feng swallowed hard, his mind racing, trying to come up with a story.

"Then can you tell me where these first-tier, high-grade mutated Xuan Yin Silkworms came from?"

Han Qingsong's voice suddenly turned cold, and an immense spiritual pressure instantly enveloped Zhao Feng. "The sect's rules state that anyone who discovers high-level spiritual materials and fails to report them is considered a traitor. Manager Zhao, your audacity is even greater than that of the demonic cultivator."