Ignoring the pile of gleaming coins with all his might—because, truly, resisting money took the strength of a saint—Han Yu focused instead on the token he had found. It was the more important thing. Probably.
He had seen several such tokens before, usually dangling from the belts of guards, rchants, nobles, and the occasional smug cultivator who wanted to remind the world that they were important. The design of the token would differ based on the owner's status and the power they belonged to—an identity badge, essentially.
"This one's... unique," Han Yu muttered, examining the image engraved on the token.
A nacing ape, bared fangs and all, was depicted within the outline of a palm.
It wasn't sothing he recognized, which made him feel a bit relieved.
"Phew\~ Doesn't belong to a guard, soldier, or a sect disciple. Probably just so random bandit group," Han Yu reasoned.
Only bandits would pick sothing so needlessly aggressive for their identity. Cultivators at least pretended to be mysterious and profound.
'There aren't any known bandit groups nearby, so this guy must have co from far away. Which ans trouble shouldn't be coming after him... right?' Han Yu consoled himself, deciding optimism was the best policy.
Now ca the less pleasant part of the ordeal.
"Dang, cleaning this up is gonna be a pain," Han Yu grumbled, surveying the very evident remains of the unfortunate bandit. "I can't exactly scrub the blood off the trees. And the guts—ugh, I don't even wanna look at those." He sighed. "Guess I'll just bury what's left and let nature handle the rest."
Lacking a proper shovel, he settled for using a sturdy stick to dig. The soil was thankfully soft, making the process easier.
'Should decompose fast enough in this environnt, right?' Han Yu thought hopefully. "And the rest of the evidence should be taken care of by the beasts and bugs."
About thirty minutes later, with dirt-streaked hands and mild disgust lingering in his stomach, Han Yu finished his grim task and made his way back to the ghostly man.
To his surprise, the man had already butchered most of the corpses. Only the large tiger's carcass remained.
"Damn, you're done already?" Han Yu blurted out, not expecting such efficiency. 'Guess he really can do it when he puts his mind to it.'
"I won't be slow like you." The ghostly man scoffed.
"And I shouldn't have to clean up after your ss," Han Yu shot back. "Thankfully, the guy you killed was just so random bandit."
"How do you know that?" The ghostly man asked, still focused on his work.
"You didn't even check his pockets or his bag?" Han Yu waved the token in front of him.
Of course, the coins remained securely hidden—no way was he sharing those.
The ghostly man glanced at the token and imdiately lost interest. "Hmph. Just so random identity badge."
Han Yu rolled his eyes. "You got lucky this ti. What if it had been a sect disciple?" He tried to inject so caution into the man's reckless attitude. "Don't go around killing people randomly. You might just kill soone important."
"Only if they don't provoke first." The man snorted, gripping the tiger's hide and tearing it off in one smooth motion like he was peeling a fruit.
Han Yu sighed, resigned to his companion's casual approach to murder. He started cutting the at into strips, preparing them for preservation.
"I don't have enough salt for proper curing, so we'll have to smoke it," he inford the ghostly man while setting up a fire.
"Then cook the at while you're at it," the man ordered.
"Fine..." Han Yu grumbled. "Not because you told to, but because I'm hungry too."
Sprinkling the newly acquired spices on the at, he began roasting it. Soon, a tantalizing aroma filled the air. The ghostly man's stomach rumbled audibly. Han Yu smirked.
'So even ghostly old n get hungry.'
The ghostly man, seemingly self-conscious about the noise, grabbed the bottle of wine Han Yu had acquired and popped the cork.
"Hey! Don't chug it all at once!" Han Yu yelled. "You still have to teach , rember?"
The ghostly man begrudgingly stopped after a few large gulps, though his face was already turning red.
Han Yu raised an eyebrow. 'Wait a second... isn't he getting drunk a bit too fast? With his size and strength, shouldn't it take, like, five bottles at least?'
He squinted at the bottle. Had he unknowingly bought so absurdly strong liquor? He'd have to test it later.
anwhile, the at was finally ready.
"It's done!" Han Yu announced, practically drooling.
Before he could so much as reach for a piece, the ghostly man snatched an entire tiger leg.
"Oi, that's mine!" Han Yu protested, grabbing his own share before the man could steal more.
Munch. Munch. Munch.
"This... is... amazing..." Han Yu mumbled between bites. "I didn't know I was such a great cook! I should open a restaurant. Maybe I don't even need to be a cultivator—just beco a famous chef and rake in the money!"
The ghostly man, chewing thoughtfully, seed to agree in his own way. He didn't stop eating, at least.
However, as soon as Han Yu swallowed the last piece, his entire body shuddered. A wave of energy surged from his stomach.
"Gotta train!" Han Yu blurted out, springing to his feet.
Without another word, he launched into a flurry of Bolt God Fist movents, channeling the excess energy before it overwheld him.
The ghostly man, now slightly tipsy, watched him for a few monts before leaning back and taking another swig of wine.
"Kid's got enthusiasm, I'll give him that," he muttered to himself.
And with that, their strange little camp settled into an oddly peaceful rhythm—one drunk ghost, one over-enthusiastic chef-turned-cultivator, and a whole lot of smoked tiger at.
After a few minutes of rest, Han Yu began training again, this ti under the guidance of the tipsy man who was giving him pointers.
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