Chapter Thirty-Five: Hell on Earth

However, Zhou Bai was not in a hurry to use the points. He planned to wait until he had mastered the basics of the “Object Refinement Method,” then use his points to push the technique directly to the second level before distributing them further. Even with his current twelve points, he felt increasingly inadequate, so he could only use them where they mattered most.

Wen Meng’s advice was not without merit. Using external objects to forge a primary ghost artifact did carry considerable risks, especially since Zhou Bai intended to use spiritual plants. The defensive capabilities of the Yinwood tree seed were much lower than ordinary weapons. Still, if he used a weapon as his primary ghost artifact, its potential for growth would be inherently limited. For a single ghostly power, this might suffice, but with dozens or even hundreds of abilities as he envisioned, it became problematic.

Using a spiritual plant as a primary ghost artifact was indeed prone to damage, so Zhou Bai decided to accelerate his progress with points and break through to the second layer, allowing him to store the primary ghost artifact within his dantian and avoid such troubles.

With this thought, he quickened his pace, casually found a street vendor in Hangdu for breakfast, then set out with his luggage toward Mount Yue outside the city. Though Hangdu’s streets appeared somewhat desolate after the recent chaos, river trade had resumed, and the curfew was lifted. By the time Zhou Bai returned, he expected the city to regain its former prosperity.

He traveled for most of the day, and as the sun had not yet set, he caught sight of Mount Yue in the distance.

Zhou Bai had never visited Mount Yue himself; only fragments of memories from his predecessor remained, but they were vague. Fortunately, Wang Lei’s residence was along the road, and upon reaching the mountain’s base, it should be visible.

Only after leaving Hangdu did he witness the hardships of the world. Just as he approached Mount Yue, dozens of people slowly walked in his direction.

They were refugees from Xuzhou, dressed in ragged clothes, their smell evident from afar. Zhou Bai’s keen eyes noticed their exposed skin was covered in sores, and their gazes were numb as they marched mechanically forward.

Most of these refugees were young and able-bodied, with a few children among them, but not a single elder. To trek across a province, the hardships must have been unimaginable; most likely, many had perished along the way.

Zhou Bai frowned, watching from where he stood. The refugees ignored him, continuing toward Hangdu.

Such scenes had only appeared when famine first struck Xuzhou. Now, seeing it again, it was clear something unusual was happening there.

“Brother, I’m so hungry... Do you have anything to eat?”

A skeletal child stopped before Zhou Bai. Her tangled hair and dirty face concealed her features, but her voice revealed she was a girl.

Zhou Bai took the leftover half of his breakfast cake from his pocket and handed it to her. The refugees around cast hungry glances, though none dared approach. Zhou Bai’s attire alone was intimidating, particularly the Tang sword at his waist and the butcher’s knife on his back, exuding a fierce aura.

“Can you tell me if you all came from Xuzhou?” he asked.

The little girl nodded obediently, her large eyes filled with fear, yet she was used to holding back tears, carefully restraining herself lest she make too much noise.

“Can you tell me what’s happening there?”

“Brother... there are monsters. Tall, towering giants. Huge snakes. At night, if there’s no fire, monsters in the darkness will drag people away.”

At these words, tears streamed down her face. The other refugees were moved as well. It was hard to imagine the hell they had escaped.

Zhou Bai did not press further; it would have been too cruel. He waited for the girl to finish eating, left what little food he had for the refugees, and then departed.

With only half a day’s journey to Hangdu, he trusted Prefect Zhao would arrange things properly.

On the road ahead, Zhou Bai encountered several more groups of refugees. Many recognized his attire as that of the Ghost Registry, kneeling and kowtowing before him.

He had no idea what Xuzhou’s current situation truly was, but for the Ghost Registry to mobilize so extensively, matters must have become dire.

This weighed heavily on Zhou Bai, a subtle sense of pressure settling in his heart.

If Xuzhou’s situation truly spiraled out of control, the Ghost Registry would deploy all its forces, and he would inevitably be drawn in.

There was no alternative. The only thing he could do now was to strengthen himself as much as possible for self-preservation.

The road to Mount Yue diverged from Hangdu’s main route; after a certain point, he no longer encountered refugees.

When he reached the foot of the mountain, gazing at the peak veiled in green, Zhou Bai’s mood finally eased.

The higher he climbed, the fewer trees there were; by the summit, nothing but barren earth remained. Yet, shrouded in mist, standing atop the mountain felt as if one could touch the sky—a fine place for a spring outing, though the treacherous path meant only a few hunters visited each year.

Once, there had been a small Buddhist temple on Mount Yue, its incense burning steadily. But fifty years ago, a wildfire left only ruins, and now those ruins had vanished, lost to time.

Searching for some time at the mountain’s base, Zhou Bai eventually found Wang Lei’s small house as dusk settled.

The house was not large, but to prevent animals from intruding, several layers of fencing had been carefully constructed. The yard was overgrown with weeds, clearly rarely tended.

Entering, Zhou Bai found a layer of dust inside, though it was still much better than the storeroom at the county office. Many items were scattered about, and five grass mats lay haphazardly on the floor.

In the center was a fire pit, used for simple cooking.

He knew Wang Lei and his companions were out hunting, but it seemed they had been gone some time.

This did not worry him. Wang Lei’s skills were second-rate among martial artists; handling wild beasts would pose no difficulty.

Because Wang Lei was so capable, many young men from the surrounding villages hoped to join him in hunting. The silver they earned each year far exceeded what they could make farming.

Zhou Bai tidied up the house, found the water source in the nearby woods by vague memory, filled the barrel outside, and finally prepared for secluded training.

The primary ghost artifact was, in essence, a gradual cultivation. It was risky, but the main dangers lay in mastering ghostly powers.

For this, Zhou Bai had little to worry about. The powers he gained through the system, he mastered almost effortlessly upon awakening.