.....
Lu Ding stood up and looked at the anxious-faced Li Baoxiang.
“Alright, your turn now. Tell about your uncle.”
Li Baoxiang opened his mouth, blood-streaked spit dripping out.
He mumbled, “Lord Lu Taishui, what do you want to know?”
He had just watched the whole thing.
And he could tell that Lu Ding was truly a man of principle.
Even honored soone like Ding Buxiu’s final request.
He hadn’t done anything really wrong—if he cooperated properly, maybe Lu Ding would hand him over to the Jinshan 749 for judgnt?
Doing ti was better than being executed on the spot, right?
If that was an option, Li Baoxiang would honestly get down and kowtow to Lu Ding right now.
But he didn’t dare bring it up first.
He hadn’t even cooperated yet—asking for favors now was basically begging for death.
Earlier, it was just the booze talking. Now he was sober.
He could think like a normal person again.
“Just talk about your uncle’s interest in the Golden Toad at Ba’er Mountain.”
Lu Ding was heading to Ba’er Mountain too.
That was his mission.
Can’t let others ss it up.
Li Baoxiang organized his thoughts: “My uncle lost face over the Zhima Beasts thing. When he fought Cao Ying, he got... got ambushed...”
He glanced at Lu Ding, then rephrased, “Caught off guard and took a hit.”
“Got a fresh wound, and it also pulled at an old one.”
“While chasing Cao Ying, he accidentally noticed Ba’er Mountain had the signs of a Golden Rooster Standing Alone. He kept that in mind.”
“Later, after talks with Liu Xingchuan from the Tianli Cult fell apart, my uncle took so people to investigate.”
“They didn’t find the golden rooster, but they found its egg.”
“But the egg got taken by the Feng Shui layout called the Golden Toad Nesting on an Egg, and then the mountain blasting roadwork over there scared it off.”
“My uncle was hurt—couldn’t force it, but he’s not skilled at finesse either.”
“So a while back, he contacted a Northern Shepherd nad Changhai. Yeah, that’s it—Changhai. I forgot the surna though.”
Changhai...
Lu Ding fell silent for a mont. There were plenty of people in the North with that na, and none of them would be young.
As the saying goes: Southern Treasure Hunters, Northern Shepherds.
They’re basically the sa—they use Qin Dunjia techniques to find rare spiritual treasures.
But in so areas, they differ.
Treasure Hunters are more forceful and aggressive.
Shepherds are fewer, and they focus on the balance and interaction of all things.
For example, the old-school thod of wasp-tracking.
That’s a basic Shepherd technique.
Stick a piece of at on a pole to lure a wasp, then when it’s eating, tie a tiny goose feather to it.
Then watch the wasp fly, fly, fly—back ho. And the queen wasp slaps it like, “You brought people here?!”
At that point, the wasp hunter wipes out the whole hive.
Small ones fried, big ones soaked in liquor.
Back to now.
A startled Golden Toad definitely couldn’t be taken head-on. That thing could burrow into the earth, so the only way was to trick it.
Lu Ding hadn’t known that.
But no matter—it wasn’t too late to find out.
That Cripple Li helped Liu Xingchuan, and now he dared try to steal his treasure too!
That’s straight-up a slap in the face!
Completely lawless!
“When are they planning to make a move?”
Li Baoxiang hesitated: “How about... I call and ask?”
Lu Ding laughed, clapped his shoulder: “Ei~ you’re a clever kid, not bad.”
Hearing the dialect, Li Baoxiang smiled.
He moved faster after that.
Dialed Cripple Li in three quick moves.
Soon, the call connected.
Li Baoxiang raised his voice: “Uncle, you ntioned going after that golden egg—when are we going? Save an eggshell or sothing, yeah?”
“What’re you so anxious for?!”
“I’m excited, that’s all. Changhai said once he finishes harvesting the corn, he’ll co over. Still more than half a month to go. You don’t do a thing and still want an eggshell? Take a hike!”
Just then.
A woman’s voice shrieked in the background: “Don’t wanna live anymore, huh?! You want everything! Our food, our ho, and now this? Mom’s dead, Dad’s dead, and you’re still mooching?!”
Li Baoxiang’s face turned awkward.
“My parents’ inheritance is all in your hands, isn’t it?!”
“You dare yell at ?!!”
As soon as she said that, Li Baoxiang hung up.
He looked up: “Lord Lu Taishui, maybe just kill .”
Then he mimicked Ding Buxiu, tugging open his collar and gesturing at his neck.
“Right here, if you can. And if you wouldn’t mind holding my head in place so it doesn’t roll—wouldn’t look good.”
Lu Ding: .......
He was honestly speechless. Life-and-death mont, and here we are with family drama and who’s right or wrong.
Seeing Lu Ding quiet, Li Baoxiang looked downcast.
“Never mind, if it’s not doable.”
Just then, Bai Hen peeked from the door: “Captain Li and the others are here.”
Lu Ding stood up and gave Li Baoxiang a light push on the head.
“Get outta here. Ever killed anyone?”
Li Baoxiang nodded: “Took out a few treasure-snatchers in the mountains.”
Understandable.
“Behave once you’re in 749. Don’t just join every cult you see. Too deep for you—you’ll drown.”
Out in the hallway.
Lan Mingli and Li Kai walked side by side, bursting with montum.
They spotted Bai Hen.
Lan Mingli recognized him almost instantly—this was the guy standing next to the one who hit his aunt.
He quickened his pace past Li Kai and glared at Bai Hen: “Where is he?”
Bai Hen frowned imdiately: “I don’t like your tone. You’re getting slapped again soon.”
That arrogant line made Lan Mingli choke on his coback.
Lu Ding shouted from inside: “Co fight in here—too many people outside, and I’m on a schedule.”
Lan Mingli pointed at Bai Hen as he walked in slowly: “I’ll deal with you first, then him!”
Bai Hen silently thought: Grandma said it’s rude to point at people. I’m taking that finger later.
The private room door opened.
The stench of blood hit him like a punch.
Lan Mingli’s face changed at the grueso sight; his throat bobbed.
Born into a family of Cultivators of Qi, and growing up in peaceful tis, not even twenty years old—
he’d never seen anything this extre before.
His eyes darted to the side, avoiding the blood-soaked piles on the floor, terrified he might puke.
Then he saw it.
“Slayer of Life, Savior of Death—Ding Buxiu?!”
Ding Buxiu’s neck was ringed red with seeping blood, face pale, barely breathing.
Lu Ding, perfectly clean, was wiping his hands with a wet towel.
Lan Mingli frowned: “You’re cleaning up a cri scene. Why’d you call here? This a battlefield or sothing?!”
Lu Ding didn’t respond.
He flicked a white card into the doorfra, level with Lan Mingli’s gaze.
A red line appeared across his cheek.
A sting—he instinctively wiped it. Blood.
Looking back at what hit him—it wasn’t a card, it was an ID.
Clear as day: Lu Ding wasn’t even twenty yet.
“I know why you’re here. No need for extra talk. I’m counting to three. Be ready.”
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