Divergent Thoughts

Taking this opportunity, Zhou Ping led his gathered clansmen in a solemn memorial ceremony before dismissing them to return to their quarters.

Children always adapted with incredible speed. By the time they departed, the young ones were united in common hatred, baring their teeth and claws, completely stripped of the timidity and dread they had shown at the start.

What was done today might indeed cause the next generation to grow up somewhat extreme, but it would also instill a fierce bloodline pride within them, ensuring the siblings clung tighter to one another.

Had this been his previous life, Zhou Ping would never have resorted to such methods.

Yet this was a cruel world where the weak were prey to the strong. It was filled not only with deceit and treachery, but also with terrifying demons and monsters. What the clan needed were cunning, ferocious wolves and leopards, not docile cattle and sheep.

To exchange a small amount of psychological manipulation for a generation of descendants as ruthless as wolves was naturally an excellent bargain.

Once everything was settled, Zhou Ping finally stepped over to the massive barrel and silently stared down at Wu Siliu. The man had already been more than half devoured, devoid of even a shred of breath.

Zhou Ping cast a cold glance sideways, and the servants standing nearby hurried forward to pluck out the Golden Border Earth Centipedes one by one.

Soon, only Wu Siliu remained in the barrel, his torso riddled with countless gory holes-a truly gruesome sight.

If his flesh and blood had not been transformed into jade, granting him an extraordinarily tenacious vitality, and if Zhou Ping had not left a strand of Spiritual Qi within him to continuously sustain his failing lifeforce-

Without these factors, Wu Siliu would have died ten thousand deaths by now.

Zhou Ping channeled a fresh stream of Spiritual Qi into Wu Siliu's body, finally evoking a faint, fluttering pulse of life.

"I will grant you one final chance. Deliver your secret now, and I shall give you a swift, clean death."

Wu Siliu's eyes had long been eaten clean away by the Golden Border Earth Centipedes, leaving nothing but hollow, dark sockets. His flawless, jade-white skin was pitted with innumerable tiny punctures, rendering him terrifying to behold.

Though he could no longer discern where Zhou Ping stood, Wu Siliu gathered his remaining strength and spat wildly into the air, his voice raspy and reduced to a near-inaudible whisper.

"Ptooey."

Before the spray could even approach Zhou Ping, it was deflected away by a sudden, gentle breeze.

"I hope you can maintain this backbone of yours."

Leaving behind those words, Zhou Ping turned and walked away. The nearby servants hoisted the heavy wooden barrel upon their shoulders and marched back toward the breeding grounds where the Golden Border Earth Centipedes were kept.

"You absolute cur... your grandpa isn't afraid of you!"

Feeling his body rocking unsteadily, Wu Siliu screamed out in a delirious frenzy.

Yet what awaited him would only be endless torment and absolute darkness.

One could not blame Zhou Ping for being heartless; the secret Wu Siliu possessed was simply too monumental.

For a mere mortal to rely on a bizarre secret technique and become even more formidable than an average Spirit Awakening Realm cultivator-gaining a physique so dense and resilient-was unprecedented.

Given how scarce cultivators were within their clan, if they could master this secret technique, they could mass-produce such entities, drastically alleviating their severe manpower shortage.

Furthermore, when the younger generations traveled abroad for experiential training in the future, having a few such guardians escorting them would ensure their safety by a massive margin.

He simply had not anticipated that Wu Siliu's mouth would remain so firmly shut. However, Zhou Ping was curious to see exactly how long the man could endure.

The unending agony of ten thousand insects gnawing at one's flesh was a fate worse than death itself. Enduring this cycle repeatedly, even the sturdiest bones would eventually crumble under the pressure.

Yet, before Zhou Ping could witness Wu Siliu begging for death, the market caravan returned to the mountain.

---

At the foot of Baixi Mountain,

Zhou Minghu emerged from the carriage, his face deathly pale as he staggered forward. Zhou Hu hastily rushed to his side to support him.

"Third Young Master, this mountain trail is steep and jagged, and your body is still profoundly weak. Allow this servant to carry you up."

Zhou Minghu shook his head, gazing up at the mist-shrouded peaks. He sluggishly extended a hand into the defensive formation, but the sheer exertion left him drained; his arm dropped limply to his side as he began to cough violently.

Suddenly, a tempestuous gale roared down from the mountaintop at breakneck speed. Zhou Ping's figure materialized from the wind, his eyes wide with anxious dread as he stared at Zhou Minghu.

"Hu'er! What happened? How did your body end up in such a state?"

Without waiting for an answer, he stepped forward and frantically poured his own Spiritual Qi into Zhou Minghu's form.

Like a sudden downpour upon parched earth, the cracks scoring Zhou Minghu's body began to mend at a pace visible to the naked eye. Gory scabs sloughed away as fresh, pink flesh sprouted.

Spiritual Qi possessed immense healing properties, capable of knitting together the vast majority of internal and external wounds. However, had his limbs been severed, he would have required specialized healing techniques to achieve the miraculous feat of regrowing bone and flesh.

Though Zhou Minghu had not lost any limbs, the fractures covering his skin made him resemble a porcelain doll on the verge of shattering at a single touch-a truly dire state. Had he not possessed a residual trace of his own Spiritual Qi to stabilize his condition, he would have perished on the journey back.

Beads of sweat erupted across Zhou Ping's forehead. Because of how precarious Zhou Minghu's injuries were, he dared not channel his Spiritual Qi too aggressively. He had to guide it with microscopic precision, a process that drained his mental faculties immensely.

Yet, as he looked upon the pitiable state of his eldest son, his heart twisted like a knife. He gathered every ounce of his focus, steering the life-giving Qi through Zhou Minghu's damaged frame.

The more areas his energy traversed, the deeper his heartache grew. He quickly realized that this rudimentary treatment was merely a temporary fix; a true recovery would require alternative methods.

Acting instantly, he conjured a soft current of wind to loft Zhou Minghu into the air, flying straight toward the summit and leaving the gathered clan soldiers staring at one another in utter bewilderment.

Upon arriving at the Golden Vine Pool, Zhou Ping carefully immersed Zhou Minghu into the water, then began pouring massive quantities of Spiritual Qi into the depths.

Spiritual Qi surged like a roiling sea, blending with the pool water until it transformed into a rich, glowing spiritual fluid that emanated a dense, ethereal mist. Though this method squandered a colossal amount of energy, it was the gentlest and most effective therapeutic treatment available.

Zhou Xuanya, who had been nearby tending to the spiritual herbs, caught sight of his brother's horrifying state. He rushed over without a word, pushing his own meager reserves of Spiritual Qi into the pool.

As the spiritual water continuously saturated Zhou Minghu's skin, his condition stabilized bit by bit. New, unblemished white flesh began to bridge the deeper cracks, standing out starkly against his weathered skin.

After a long while, the external wounds were largely resolved, yet the underlying issue-his ruptured Dantian-remained completely untouched.

By this point, Zhou Ping was thoroughly spent. He was currently at the second layer of Qi Condensation, possessing two vast reservoirs of energy that equaled hundreds of strands of a Spirit Awakening cultivator's Qi. Yet, that immense abundance had been completely drained by this healing session, leaving him profoundly exhausted.

"Minghu, speak plainly. What exactly transpired out there? How did you incur such devastating damage?" Zhou Ping asked, panting heavily as he caught his breath.

Zhou Xuanya remained silent, though he stepped forward with an aching heart to gently wipe away the dried bloodstains clinging to his brother's skin.

Zhou Minghu recounted the entire sequence of events from beginning to end without omitting a single detail, before lowering his head in bitter shame.

"Father... your child is now a mere mortal. I can no longer escort the caravan. I have become a useless burden to the family."

Zhou Ping stepped forward, offering gentle comfort. "Silly child. No matter what happens, you are a son of this house. How could you ever be considered a burden?"

"Furthermore, your Dantian was merely split apart by a violent backlash of overdrawn energy. The fact that you can still sense and draw in Spiritual Qi proves it has not shattered entirely. The situation is not beyond hope."

"The Immortals' Directorate possesses specialized medicinal pills designed to repair a torn Dantian. When the time comes, we will simply purchase one for you."

Zhou Minghu's eyes flickered with a brief spark of hope, only to dim just as quickly.

"A single pill of that nature costs nearly two hundred contribution merits. Wasting such a fortune on your child is far too extravagant."

Though he deeply yearned for his path of cultivation to be restored, a single Green Jade Pill only required seventy to eighty merits, a sum that could potentially elevate an ordinary mortal into a true Qi Condensation cultivator. Spending two hundred merits to salvage a crippled man of mediocre talent like himself was an unforgivable waste.

Two hundred merits would take their clan several years of grueling effort to accumulate. If those merits were instead funneled into nurturing younger talents like Chengyuan, those children might very well achieve terrifying heights of power.

Zhou Ping gazed at Zhou Minghu, knowing full well that in his son's heart, the prosperity of the clan stood far above his own life. He could only offer a soft, inward sigh, silently vowing that no matter what obstacles lay ahead, he would secure that Dantian-mending pill for Minghu.

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