Chapter Seventy-Three: The Horde of Skeletons

"Junior Brother Ling, what happened to you..." The disciples standing around Ling Xiao couldn't help but hold their breath and step back a little when they saw his tattered sleeves and the foul-smelling, unknown liquid staining his body. Ling Xiao, however, seemed utterly unconcerned, as if he were already accustomed to such things. Though his face showed exhaustion, his eyes gleamed with a spirited light.

Shen Qingyun walked over to Feng Chuxun and whispered something, prompting Feng Chuxun—clearly unwilling—to move behind Ling Xiao and kick him squarely in the backside.

With a wail that was almost a cry, Ling Xiao was jerked completely awake. Clutching the spot where he’d been kicked, he glared angrily at Feng Chuxun. "What are you doing?!"

Holding his sword in reverse, Feng Chuxun pointed toward the center of the hollow. "There's water over there."

"I know that," Ling Xiao replied, still simmering with anger. "But is that a reason to kick me?"

"You stink. Go wash up," Feng Chuxun retorted with a trace of disdain, half-drawing his sword. "If you don’t, I’ll throw you in myself."

The glint of the blade made Ling Xiao’s hair stand on end. He leapt back a step, his gaze flickering toward Wu Xier, who stood to the side. Then, affecting nonchalance, he sniffed himself and forced a laugh. "I suppose you’re right!"

"I’ll go, I’ll go right away..."

...

After Ling Xiao washed, the smell was gone, but his sleeves remained torn, exposing his bronze skin and the muscles beneath. Even without flexing, it was clear just how much strength those muscles contained.

For the moment, Shen Qingyun had no solution for this; new sleeves would just tear again. It was better to leave him as he was.

Turning to the disciples who had finished gathering herbs, Shen Qingyun spoke in his calm voice: "Now, divide the Five-Leaf Heart you have collected in half and place one half on the ground before you."

"Uh..." The herb-gathering disciples exchanged uncertain glances. If they only put out half, did that mean the other half belonged to them?

Realizing this possibility, their hands moved much faster as they emptied their storage pouches. Soon, neat mounds of glowing green Five-Leaf Heart dotted the ground, a lovely sight.

When no one moved further, Shen Qingyun continued, "Those who were on guard duty before, take the share placed by your group partner."

He paused, then added, "No taking from others!"

"Huh?" The disciples who had been on guard thought they’d misheard and stared at Shen Qingyun in disbelief, not daring to move.

Seeing their hesitation, Shen Qingyun swept them a glance. "Was I unclear? These are yours."

With this second confirmation, the guards finally began collecting the Five-Leaf Heart into their storage pouches. To be honest, they'd felt slighted before—if the gatherers kept half, what did the guards get for their effort? They hadn’t expected Shen Qingyun to turn things around and give them all the herbs. Their faces broke into broad grins of joy.

"That was quite a move," Wu Xier murmured, stepping up beside Shen Qingyun.

"What are you talking about, Junior Sister Wu? I don't understand," Shen Qingyun replied coolly, though a strange light flickered in his eyes.

Wu Xier paused, then understood. She knew the truth. Many of these disciples had joined Shen Qingyun’s group only out of necessity—perhaps because of her, perhaps for other reasons—and had little loyalty to him. In minor matters, they might listen to his commands, but in a crisis? That was uncertain. By handling things this way, Shen Qingyun had taught them a lesson.

Disciples of the Inner Sect were no fools.

Shen Qingyun smiled faintly at the group, who had now divided the spirit herbs. "Let’s move on."

Now in possession of spirit herbs, the disciples wore beaming smiles and followed his orders more readily, marching forward in neat formation. This was just the beginning, and already they’d gained so much. Who knew what awaited them further on?

In half a day, they encountered many spirit herbs and fruits, including a Spirit Suo Fruit Tree laden with bright fruit—a third-rank spirit fruit, yet comparable to a century-old specimen. Consuming it could boost one’s cultivation, not enough to leap realms, but enough to save a great deal of training time. In the cultivation world, Spirit Suo Fruits were treasures rarely found.

Yet Shen Qingyun kept none for himself, dividing them evenly among the disciples. This won their sincere cooperation; as long as the spirit herbs weren’t unique, he allowed them to share everything.

Where else could they expect such treatment? They didn’t know, but here, in this group, their gains were enough to make them laugh in their sleep. Faced with monsters, they fought proactively.

Even Wu Xier couldn’t help but feel that, at this rate, Shen Qingyun might win them over completely. She had to admire his decisiveness—so many spirit herbs and fruits handed out without a moment’s hesitation. Did he see them as mere weeds by the roadside?

Three more days passed. As they drew closer to the first safe point, they had encountered many monsters mutated from wild beasts, but none born of Ghost Valley itself.

Moreover, thanks to Ling Xiao and Shen Qingyun’s sharp instincts—always able to predict where spirit herbs grew or where monsters lurked—and Shen Qingyun’s careful planning, they had avoided danger each time.

Now, even the quietest disciple had a pouch full of spirit herbs and a grin stretching from ear to ear. Even for their usually reserved leader, they were beginning to feel a trace of trust.

A sudden scream drew everyone’s attention. Shen Qingyun turned and saw Qiao Xinyu as its source. At her feet, a skeletal hand wreathed in black smoke slowly broke through the earth, its five fingers groping as if searching for something.

Startled by the sudden appearance, Qiao Xinyu had cried out.

"On guard!"

Even before Shen Qingyun spoke, one disciple shouted the warning, reaching for his spiritual weapon. This skeletal hand might belong to a monster born of Ghost Valley!

Everyone held their breath, staring as the arm was followed by a skull, and then the rest of the body crawled out.

It was a complete human skeleton, shrouded in black smoke, gripping a rusted iron sword. Its empty sockets seemed to flicker with blue flames.

"What...what is that?" one disciple asked, his voice trembling. It was, unmistakably, a human skeleton.

No one answered, but what happened next left them even more bewildered.

Ahead, more skeletal arms broke through the ground. In this already eerie place, the sight added a new layer of terror. Some disciples shivered as the number of skeletons multiplied, their scalps tingling.

Densely packed—there must have been at least a hundred.

"Senior Brother Shen, our luck doesn't seem so good," Su Ye said, forcing a smile, though his own scalp tingled with fear at the sight.

Shen Qingyun’s face showed no emotion, not so much as a flicker at the appearance of the skeletons. He replied coolly, "Luck is a part of strength, but it shouldn’t be wasted on such trivial matters."

The disciples looked at him in astonishment. This was 'trivial'?

"Maybe we should retreat..." one suggested, glancing behind to see that the way was still clear.

"Afraid already?" Ling Xiao sneered, his gaze cold.

Feeling that contemptuous smile, the disciple swallowed hard. "Then tell me what to do—eighteen of us against a hundred skeletons. How do we fight?"

"How do we fight?" Shen Qingyun extended his hand to Feng Chuxun, who immediately tossed him a sword. Catching it, Shen Qingyun swept his gaze over the group, his tone suddenly icy. "Do you remember what I said? If you refuse to follow my orders, I will not show mercy for the sake of our shared Peak of Bamboo heritage."

"If you retreat, you are no longer part of this group. In Ghost Valley, your life and death will have nothing to do with me! But if any are willing to stand with me, then let us show the spirit of disciples from the Peak of Bamboo!"

As he spoke, Feng Chuxun had already drawn his sword and stood at Shen Qingyun’s side, battle intent burning in his eyes.

Without another word, Shen Qingyun stepped forward, sword in hand.

Sensing Shen Qingyun’s surge of vitality, the skeletons—lifeless as they were—were drawn to it like moths to a flame. It was this vitality that had awakened them from the earth, so irresistible was its lure.

With that step and the deliberate release of his aura, Shen Qingyun made himself the focus of their attention. Instantly, every skeleton, armed or not, raised their weapons and charged at him.

"A time like this—how could I possibly stay out of it?" Ling Xiao stepped forward, licking his lips.

Shen Qingyun nodded. "Very well. We’ll take the vanguard. Anyone willing may support us from the flanks."

"Let’s go!"

Shen Qingyun’s sword flashed as his agile form darted through the skeletons. Each swing of his blade sparked a cold gleam, and a skeleton collapsed in pieces at his feet.

Feng Chuxun was even more formidable. Within three feet of his blade, no skeleton remained standing.

Compared to them, Ling Xiao was simple and direct—charging into the undead horde, golden light flashing as bones flew skyward, spinning before landing in the dirt.

Wu Xier took a deep breath, her fiery whip appearing in her hand. "Let’s join the fight!"

Seeing how easily the three dispatched the skeletons, the rest of the disciples felt their courage return. One after another, they drew their spiritual weapons and shouted in response to Wu Xier’s call. Even the one who first wanted to retreat now gripped his weapon and charged forward.