Chapter Fifty-Eight: A Bite for Everyone

No wonder the disciples of the Corpse Refining Sect reacted so strongly; the words and decisions of Elder Zhang seemed utterly inconceivable, even bordering on the absurd in their eyes!

Could it be that Elder Zhang, weary of life, intended to follow in the footsteps of a certain predecessor? If so, wouldn't that mean another disciple might soon rise in rank?

"Silence!"

Elder Zhang, seeing the uproar among the crowd, seemed to have anticipated this reaction. A chilling aura emanated from the coffin, instantly quieting every disciple present. Even if Elder Zhang was courting death, he was not dead yet—he remained an elder of the Corpse Refining Sect, commanding some measure of authority.

"There is only Wang Changsheng left in the Servants' Quarters," Elder Zhang announced. "Once he is dead, the Servants' Quarters will be permanently closed. From now on, the Corpse Refining Sect will have no Servants' Quarters at all!"

At these words, the crowd fell even more silent than before.

"Hmm? Doesn't that sound a bit ambiguous?"

"What do you mean ambiguous? It's obviously ambiguous. Where's Old Mou?"

"Could the elders have secretly disposed of Old Mou? Is it now Wang's turn?"

"Not necessarily. Maybe the elders are preparing to duel Old Mou, but first they're offering Old Wang as a sacrifice!"

Once again, the whispers began, though this time the voices were much quieter. Many disciples were still digesting Elder Zhang’s words, unsettled by the implications within.

If Old Mou had indeed been dealt with, then apart from Wang Changsheng, no one remained in the Servants' Quarters. Once Wang was also refined, there would truly be no need for that place any longer.

This time, Elder Zhang did not call for silence; in fact, he seemed to welcome their reaction.

Wang Changsheng himself had no idea when Old Mou had left. Even Elder Zhang was unsure of the exact time, but he could confirm that Old Mou had not returned to his cottage for over twenty days. In all these years, Elder Zhang had never seen such a thing.

Clearly, Old Mou must have had some urgent matter and already left the Corpse Refining Sect.

And if Old Mou ever returned? That would be easy enough—given Old Mou’s muddled wits, he’d be easily deceived.

"Enough. As for this Wang Changsheng—he’s consumed too many spirit medicines and is now a walking human elixir. Each of you may come and take a breath," Elder Zhang declared. "But show restraint—leave some for the others. Don't be too greedy."

As he spoke, a force of suction emanated from the coffin, directed toward Wang Changsheng. His body was not pulled toward the coffin, but rather he felt something within himself being drawn away.

"His vital force!"

Wang Changsheng immediately realized what was being taken. He had walked this path before, trading years of his life for survival. Back then, he had barely felt a thing, but now, the sudden loss of his life force terrified him.

He mustered all his true energy to resist the suction, but it was useless. Even if he wanted to curse, he found himself unable.

Even his true energy was partially drawn away along with his life force!

Losing a bit of true energy was trivial—it would return with rest and meditation. But the loss of life force was nearly impossible to restore!

After so many years in the cultivation world, Wang Changsheng had only just reached the ninth level of the Open Vein Realm—barely enough to replenish his life force to that of a normal person, and far less than his peers.

When the suction finally ceased, Wang Changsheng realized that at least a tenth of his life force was gone.

If he could see himself now, he would notice the gray streaks reappearing in his hair—he had once again aged, becoming middle-aged, nearly old.

This single breath had all but ruined three years of Wang Changsheng’s painstaking efforts.

He lay on the ground in despair, staring at the coffin, his gaze rife with resentment.

But resentment was all he could muster. He was powerless to resist—what else could he do?

"Hmm? This true energy…"

A voice of surprise came from within the coffin, but no one paid it any mind. Wang Changsheng was still lost in despair, while the disciples of the Corpse Refining Sect wore pensive expressions.

"Elders, would you care to try? This boy’s true energy is… peculiar," Elder Zhang called out, his voice carrying to all those present, though it was clear he was speaking to the coffins on the high platform.

Boom… boom… boom…

One of the coffins shook violently.

"No need. His cultivation is too weak; there’s nothing worth taking," came a response, after which the coffins fell silent once more.

"Cowards!" Elder Zhang growled. The elders within the coffins could certainly hear him, but none replied—whether out of agreement or disdain, no one could say.

"Well then, it's your turn now," Elder Zhang addressed the disciples. "Today, everyone present will receive a share. This boy’s true energy is a little strange—almost… Well, you’ll have to experience it yourselves."

Elder Zhang hesitated, uncertain how to describe the sensation of absorbing Wang Changsheng’s true energy.

In truth, for someone of his cultivation, refining Wang Changsheng brought little benefit; Wang’s own cultivation was so low he hadn’t even formed true essence.

The reason for targeting Wang Changsheng was simple: the elder slain by Old Mou’s palm strike had been Elder Zhang’s friend. He dared not pick a fight with Old Mou, but he could certainly vent his anger on a low-level cultivator.

Besides, Elder Zhang already had a plan—deceiving Old Mou would be easy enough.

However, after absorbing some of Wang Changsheng’s life force and true energy, Elder Zhang noticed nothing unusual about the life force—in fact, it was weaker than average. Yet the true energy, for some unknown reason, felt extraordinarily invigorating, as though he had ingested some rare tonic.

"Take it easy—don’t kill him. Leave him alive for me," Elder Zhang ordered. "I still have questions for him."

Normally, at Elder Zhang’s word, the disciples would have rushed forward to claim their share.

But today, after being given permission, Elder Zhang noticed that none of the disciples moved. Instead, they stood their ground, frowning.

"What’s this? All of you acting so courteous today?" Elder Zhang’s voice emerged from the coffin, tinged with perplexity.

"Elder…" After exchanging glances, one of the disciples stepped forward and bowed to Elder Zhang’s coffin.

"Elder, perhaps… perhaps we should let Old Wang go," he said. It was Old Xian who spoke.

Though he suggested sparing Old Wang, Old Xian couldn’t help swallowing as he looked in Wang Changsheng’s direction.

At these words, Elder Zhang’s coffin trembled slightly, betraying his agitation.

At that moment, Wang Changsheng came back to his senses just in time to catch Old Xian glancing at him and swallowing.

A bitter, helpless laugh escaped Wang Changsheng’s lips.

He had heard what Old Xian said; swallowing did not necessarily mean he wanted to devour him. Otherwise, Old Xian would have already made a move.

Besides, Wang Changsheng had also noticed the frowns on many of the disciples’ faces.

"Thank you, Old Xian," Wang Changsheng nodded to him.

Old Xian looked somewhat embarrassed.

"Is this your decision alone," Elder Zhang’s coffin radiated a suffocating pressure, enveloping every disciple present, "or the will of you all?"

Elder Zhang’s initial offer to let everyone take a share had been to avoid appearing overly greedy. After absorbing Wang Changsheng’s true energy, he had immediately noticed its unique flavor. If everyone else abstained, leaving it all for him, he would have been delighted.

Old Xian glanced back at the others, who all returned meaningful looks. He promptly answered, "Elder, this is the decision of everyone present."

"Well, well… Since when did the disciples of the Corpse Refining Sect become so righteous?" Elder Zhang’s laughter echoed from the coffin, but it was laced with mockery.

There were no saints in the Corpse Refining Sect. Even those who had never ventured beyond its walls had reached their current level through ruthless means. A few may have cultivated steadily and without incident, but such people were rare indeed.

All had blood on their hands, to some degree.

"If none of you want him, then I’ll enjoy him myself!"

Once again, a surge of suction emanated from Elder Zhang’s coffin.

"Wait!" Old Xian cried out.

"Hmm?" Elder Zhang’s voice was puzzled.

"Elder, our intention is to let Old Wang go—not to leave him for you," Old Xian declared, as though summoning all his courage. He bowed deeply toward the coffin.

"Yes, Elder Zhang, let Old Wang go. He’s been with the Corpse Refining Sect for years. We all consider him one of our own," Old Quan chimed in, stepping forward.

"Elder Zhang, please spare Old Wang. Having someone like him in the sect is rather interesting."

"That’s right, Elder Zhang—let’s spare Old Wang!"

"We beseech you, Elder, to let him go. His cultivation is low, and refining him would be of little use anyway!"

One after another, the disciples all bowed toward Elder Zhang’s coffin, their voices ringing out in a chorus of pleas.