By the River of the Dead, in the West Sea of the Heaven Patrolling Zone.
An older and a younger rogue cultivator waited patiently by the riverbank for the "trash" flowing from the River of the Dead.
The young rogue cultivator appeared to be in his early twenties, but his true age far exceeded his youthful appearance.
He had a sowhat roguish, carefree air about him. He sat cross-legged on a broad magic sword, holding a fishing rod-like magic artifact in his hand. Instead of bait, its line ended in a ticulously refined hooked grapnel.
The older rogue cultivator emanated a faint spirit light, standing in mid-air without relying on any magic artifact. Clearly, having already established his Spirit Sea, he no longer needed a magic artifact to fly.
In his hands, he held a fishing net woven from golden threads and iron chains.
"Second Uncle, for the past two years, all we've found is useless junk. Even the treasure-seeking rchants can't be bothered to take it."
The young rogue cultivator pulled a Spirit Fruit from his Universe Bag. Taking a juicy bite with a CRUNCH, he complained to the older rogue cultivator while chewing, "At this rate, I'm afraid it will take another thirty or fifty years before I can gather enough resources for to break through to the Spirit Sea Realm...
"A while ago, the Li Mountain Elixir Sect was recruiting people to test Elixirs, and the pay was extrely generous. If I can just last a year, I'll earn enough Elixirs and Spirit Stones to cultivate to the Spirit Sea Realm.
"I was thinking of going to try out in a few days!
"It has to be better than sitting here, picking up useless junk."
He had barely finished speaking when the older rogue cultivator unleashed his magic, conjuring a hand the size of a round table that slapped the young rogue cultivator on the back of the head.
The blow nearly sent him tumbling from his magic sword. The unswallowed fruit pulp sprayed from his mouth like a gush of blood, wasting the Spiritual Qi contained within the Spirit Fruit.
Having taught his nephew a lesson, the older rogue cultivator dispersed the magical hand and harrumphed irritably, "Do you think the Li Mountain Elixir Sect offers such generous rewards for no reason?
"That sect is full of madn and demon heads! Nine out of ten who test their dicines die, and the one who survives is left crippled!
"If it weren't for your father's dying wish, when he repeatedly implored to look after you, I wouldn't bother with your fate...
"If you ever dare to entertain the slightest thought of testing dicines for the Alchemy Sect again, you won't need to die from their concoctions. I'll beat you to death myself, just to prevent those lunatics from desecrating your corpse."
Having endured the slap and a harsh scolding, the young rogue cultivator climbed back onto his magic sword, head bowed, not daring to utter another sound.
Seeing his nephew's dejected state, the older rogue cultivator couldn't bear to be too harsh and began to encourage him, "Don't mind that we've only been picking up junk lately. As long as we're patient enough, we'll eventually find a real treasure.
"Your Second Uncle—that's —relied on scavenging treasures by the River of the Dead to cultivate, step by step, to the Spirit Sea Realm.
"If I hadn't found half of a powerful expert's corpse thirty years ago and obtained the unused Elixirs from his body, I wouldn't have been able to smoothly establish my Spirit Sea..."
The older rogue cultivator rambled on, recounting the glorious achievents of his nearly hundred-year "junk-picking" career.
"I know, Second Uncle. You've told these stories dozens of tis. You're not tired of telling them, but I'm tired of listening," the young rogue cultivator replied helplessly.
Just then, the young rogue cultivator suddenly spotted a gleam of spirit light appearing in the "River of the Dead."
He rubbed his eyes, and after confirming he hadn't seen wrong, he hurriedly interrupted the older rogue cultivator's rambling, "Second Uncle, there's a treasure!"
The older rogue cultivator's realm was higher than his nephew's, and his five senses and divine sense were naturally more acute. If he hadn't been lost in reminiscing about his past glories, he would have likely noticed the anomaly in the turbulent flow of ti much sooner.
Once he focused his attention and looked, he imdiately grinned. "My good nephew, what did I tell you? As long as we wait patiently, we'll eventually find a good treasure."
However, the spirit light was still quite distant.
The older rogue cultivator didn't rush to act, lest he fail to retrieve the treasure and instead be pulled into the River of the Dead.
After establishing his Spirit Sea, he had relied on his strength to demarcate territory with other treasure-scavenging cultivators. An area extending fifty li north and south, and fifty li up and down, centered on him, was considered his domain.
Any treasure that drifted out within this area belonged to him.
Of course, if a treasure erged that even Golden Core Realm cultivators would covet, this "agreent" would naturally be void. What needed to be fought for would still be fought for!
Due to the interference of the chaotic space-ti turbulence, the uncle and nephew couldn't clearly discern what kind of treasure was enveloped in the spirit light.
When the glow entered their "salvaging" range, the older rogue cultivator imdiately threw his fishing net, while his nephew also cast out his fishing rod with its hooked grapnel.
Ultimately, the older rogue cultivator proved more skillful. His fishing net enveloped the spirit light and, ignoring its attempts to dart left and right, forcefully hauled it out of the River of the Dead...
However, once the spirit light around the salvaged item dissipated, the smiles on the faces of the uncle and nephew instantly froze.
"Second Uncle, this looks like... an Imperial Soul Ghost General!" the young rogue cultivator said, sowhat uncertainly.
"It is indeed an Imperial Soul, possessing the strength of a peak Class II," the older rogue cultivator nodded solemnly. "I never expected there to be living creatures still in the River of the Dead. We cannot keep this Imperial Soul. We must imdiately report this to the River Patrol Envoy and inform the Daoist temple."
If they rely salvaged the remains of cultivators or demonic beasts, or fragnts of magic treasures, no one would usually care.
But if any other living creature was salvaged from the River of the Dead, regardless of its strength, it had to be reported to the River Patrol Envoy. Otherwise, if the Heaven Patrolling Temple were to pursue the matter, no one could bear the responsibility!
At that very mont, a brilliant sword light flashed into existence, tracing the path the Imperial Soul had taken, shimring as it approached.
Even with his vast experience, the older rogue cultivator was frightened into a cold sweat by the might of this sword light. He grabbed his nephew and, in a flash of escaping light, tried to flee the area.
However, before he could flee even five li, a figure materialized out of thin air where the sword light converged.
It was Shen Mo!
He had been adrift in the River of the Dead for over a month. Dozens of the peak Class II minor Heavenly Demon Soul Generals he used for scouting had perished.
Although the soul bodies of the Demon Soul Generals could regenerate even after being shredded by spatial rifts, the chaotic Power of Ti was a more difficult problem.
Even Demon Soul Generals possessed lifespans—rely longer than those of human cultivators. Once caught in the turbulent flow of ti, they would still age to death. Even their soul marks on the Soul Refining Flag would be annihilated along with them!
Fortunately, he had finally managed to leave this perilous place safely.
Imdiately, Shen Mo glanced at the uncle and nephew. Then, making a grasping motion with his five fingers, he seized them using an Immortal Law.
A vast and terrifying soul power surged out from him in a peculiar wave, and he cast a Soul Curse, erasing their mories of the past hour!
Afterward, he scouted the area once more to ensure there were no other witnesses before transforming into a streak of gold light and vanishing over the horizon.
Only the uncle and nephew remained, standing dazedly on the spot. After a long while, they finally regained their senses. Still sowhat puzzled as to why they had inexplicably lost focus for a mont, they returned to the bank of the River of the Dead to continue waiting for "treasures" to erge.
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