My Journey to Immortality Begins with Hunting-Chapter 178 – Turmoil in Northriver Prefecture, A Plump Lamb Enters Ghost Street, Forced Buying and Selling - Part 1

Chapter 178 – Turmoil in Northriver Prefecture, A Plump Lamb Enters Ghost Street, Forced Buying and Selling - Part 1

The sky was a clear blue, marked by sparse gray clouds. A winding road stretched into the distance, where a carriage moved at a steady, unhurried pace. Its curtains were drawn back just enough to reveal the suggestive posture of the passengers inside and the playful laughter between them.

“Have another drink, my lord,” a teasing voice came.

“Drink? Ha, sure, drink up!” the young man answered with a hearty chuckle.

“You’re so entertaining. Most people wait until spring is in full bloom to take us traveling. You’ve taken us out before spring has even begun.”

“That’s exactly why I wanted to get an early start! Once the season truly arrives, it’d be much harder to sneak away for a private excursion,” he said, laughing.

“Maybe others can’t, but you can. And you must come find us again,” one of the women teased with a giggle.

“Oh my, you’re terribly wicked!” another chimed in coquettishly.

High above them soared a white finch. Though merely a bird in appearance, its keen gaze actually belonged to Li Yuan, who was using the finch as his conduit. From its vantage point, he could clearly survey everything below.

Li Yuan wasn’t here in person; Fang Jianlong was. Yet through Fang Jianlong’s eyes and actions, Li Yuan could swiftly gather information about this unfamiliar land. He was here not only to purchase rank six demonic beast meat, which required blood gold, but also to glimpse how undying husks clashed with martial artists. From these observations, he intended to figure out the safest way to survive on the border.

Fang Jianlong was no fool. To avoid attracting suspicion within the territory ruled by the Farmstead Sect, he deliberately hired two companions—one a songstress, the other a dancer—to pose as a frivolous young noble indulging in a leisurely trip. Having once been a star disciple in the inner sect, Fang Jianlong knew all too well how to play the part. At the moment, with two alluring women in tow, he certainly looked every bit the debauched son of a wealthy family.

Traveling with female entertainers was quite normal in this era, especially for merchants or refined scholars. In fact, by those standards, Fang Jianlong was being restrained; he had only brought two. Inside the jolting carriage, he was tangled up with the two women, but despite appearances, his eyes kept flicking outside. The outer disciples and attendants riding alongside the carriage also maintained a wary vigilance, each playing the part of a bodyguard.

Suddenly, one of the attendants rode closer and called out, “My lord!”

Inside, laughter still rang out. The attendant had to call a second time. “My lord!”

“What is it now?” Fang Jianlong asked, feigning impatience. “Speak!”

“There’s a large stretch of farmland ahead blocking the road. Going around will add a lot of travel time.”

“Then don’t go around. See if there are any farmers out there. If so, toss them some silver and have them let us cross through. We’ll just take the muddy path in the middle. As long as we don’t trample the fields, we should be fine.”

He waved the attendant away in annoyance and returned his focus to the alluring songstress in his arms. She, in turn, only laughed and responded with playful complaints, “Oh, you’re so naughty!”, while leaning willingly into his embrace.

Yet even as Fang Jianlong’s eyes drifted shut, his mind whirled. He was already plotting how to justify his upcoming meeting with Yan Mu, who was overseeing the Farmstead Sect.

Before he could reach a conclusion, the attendant galloped back, looking tense. Pulling up alongside the carriage, the man reported, “My lord, uh, there’s...no one in the fields.”

“No one? Not surprising. It’s still too early in the year for sowing,” Fang Jianlong replied.

The dancer clinging to him spoke up, “Ah, my lord, this is Tiger’s Back County. We locals know the farmland here is like the backside of a tiger—dangerous to touch, dangerous to cross. How about we just go around?”

The songstress joined in. “Yes, my lord. The ground in those fields is so uneven, and if the wheels get stuck in the mud, it’ll only cause more trouble.”

Fang Jianlong considered briefly, then smiled. “All right. We’ll do as my lovely ladies suggest.”

And so, the carriage changed course and headed another way.

Perched on a leafless old tree, the white finch took flight again, observing the scene from above. The carriage traveled onward, but with every passing mile, Fang Jianlong felt increasingly uneasy. Had the road been scattered with corpses from battles between undying husks and martial artists, that would have made sense. It was precisely the kind of chaos he expected out here. But this...this was different.

There was simply no one. Not a single living soul in sight. Everything was eerily quiet.

By dusk, the carriage came to a halt. Fang Jianlong spoke, “It’s too late to make it back anywhere tonight. We’ll have to find a place to stay around here. Ladies, how does that sound?”

“We’ll do whatever you decide, my lord,” the dancer answered, her cheeks flushed as she eyed his strong frame.

The songstress followed with a light laugh, “Once we find a safe place, my sister and I will sing and dance just for you.”

Fang Jianlong grinned and, leaning out of the carriage, instructed his people, “Find somewhere, anywhere, we can spend the night.”

All day long, they had not encountered a single person. The longer the emptiness stretched on, the more ominous it felt. Fang Jianlong couldn’t quite shake the chill creeping up his spine.

Fang Jianlong knew he had no choice but to complete the mission assigned by Li Yuan. He had come all this way to the Farmstead Sect, the group most closely tied to the Holy Tree Temple, and leaving without seeing anything would have accomplished nothing. If he retreated now, he would have no path forward. At the very least, he needed to investigate.

“Spread out,” Fang Jianlong ordered, dispatching several riders to scout the area.

Two white finches, Li Yuan’s eyes and ears, separated into different directions. One stayed near Fang Jianlong’s carriage, while the other followed an outer disciple toward a distant village. After the Blood Blade Sect’s mass recruitment, outer disciples no longer enjoyed the prestige they had during Li Yuan’s era.

This particular disciple reached the village to find every door bolted shut, the roads eerily silent. Sliding off his horse, he stood at the edge of the village and called out, “Hello? Is anyone there?”

No answer.

He tried again. “Is anyone here? We’re just passing through. We can pay!”

Still nothing. Every house remained still and silent, like a graveyard in winter. A chill ran up the disciple’s spine; his heart pounded faster. But a man chosen to accompany Fang Jianlong had to be both trustworthy and hardened. He had faced death before and wouldn’t run from a mere unsettling silence. Keeping his guard up, he continued to call out.

When no one responded, he decided to knock on doors. First one house, then another...and another. After visiting eight houses, he had yet to hear a single reply. The entire place seemed like a dead village.

But this was Tiger’s Back County, the core territory of the Farmstead Sect. That sect dominated four counties—Eastspring, Westplain, Tiger’s Back, and Oxtail. Among them, Tiger’s Back held the same importance as Silver Creek did among the 12 large and small settlements of Gemhill. How could a village here be empty?

Returning to the first house, the disciple stood at the door and said, “If no one’s inside, then...I’m coming in.”

He waited a moment. No response. Drawing his blade, he braced the hilt against the door. Mustering the shadow blood in his arm, he drove the blade forward while flattening himself to one side, ready for anything.

Bang! The latch snapped, and the door swung inward with a grating squeak, revealing only darkness beyond. No smell of blood.

Carefully stepping into the doorway, he used the last sliver of sunset to peer inside. Everything seemed orderly...farm tools placed neatly against the wall, bedding still folded. It looked lived-in, just empty.

He quickly checked another house, then a third, and so on. His alarm grew with each discovery. Not only was everyone gone, the houses fell into one of three distinct states.

In some, the rooms were still neat and orderly, with uneaten meals on the tables already going moldy, as if the residents had abruptly vanished, leaving everything untouched. In others, furniture was overturned and signs of a struggle were everywhere.

Then there were those that had been stripped nearly bare, suggesting the owners had fled in a hurry with all their valuables.

All of it was deeply unsettling. Feeling an icy prickle under his skin, the disciple left in haste, remounted, and galloped back to report.

˙·٠✧🐗➶➴🏹✧٠·˙

Back in the Hundred Lotus Manor, Li Yuan, sipping a medicinal broth to replenish his blood, sat reclining in a rocking chair under the eaves, enjoying the sunlight.

“So, Northriver Prefecture is as strange as rumored,” he murmured. He closed his physical eyes but kept his gaze trained through the white finch perched near the scouting party.

The disciple rushed back, while the white finch continued to fly further, hoping to uncover more clues. Passing the silent village, it soon spotted another farming settlement. This one, at least, showed some signs of life—commotion, even.

From high above, however, Li Yuan noticed a bizarre, faintly bloody haze drifting through the winter gloom. Narrowing his eyes, he guided the finch to circle lower and alight carefully on a rooftop for a better view.

It was chaos, utter chaos.

Members of some local gang or sect, dressed in Farmstead Sect attire, ran amok brandishing iron hoes and sickles, hacking at anything in sight. Meanwhile, half-crazed men pinned down screaming women. At the same time, other sober-minded individuals were racing from all directions, trying desperately to restore order.

Off in the fields, a man with lurid face paint knelt in the dirt, repeatedly banging his forehead on the ground. His blank eyes stared into nothingness, lost in some feverish hallucination. Nearby, an old farmer pushed open the doors of a tavern. Seeing the uproar outside, his fists clenched. “Get everyone out, head east!” he shouted. “Keep moving!”

The finch’s tiny black pupils darted left and right. Suddenly, they narrowed. Off in the distance, Li Yuan noticed a few bloodstained figures dashing around a tight street corner and vanishing. He recognized that vanishing act all too well.

That was the only way to enter the ghost street marketplace..

Urging the finch upward, he tried to locate the source of the eerie red light. He suspected the bizarre phenomena unfolding below were connected to that blood-hued glow he’d seen from above. Though he remained unsure whether he would personally intervene, Northriver lay just across the river from the five counties. Whatever happened there could easily spill into his own territory. Even if Li Yuan had no interest in blood gold or ongoing battles, he needed to figure out what was going on. Being caught blind would only lead to disaster.

But no sooner had the finch taken flight than a rippling distortion shot out from the darkness. An almost invisible strand of thread that whipped out, snaring the bird. The creature, being just a conduit, wasn’t quick enough to dodge.

That thread was nearly transparent, more like a spider’s silk than any metal weapon. It snapped tight, wrapping the finch and dragging it down into someone’s open palm. The one who had caught it promptly inverted the finch so it faced the ground, preventing it from seeing anything.

A man’s sinister voice echoed in the silence. “Are you sure this bird’s spirit has a hidden presence inside it?”

A second voice, soft and feminine, answered, “Yes, it does, very faint. There’s another mind here. Someone’s watching us through this finch.”

The man leaned in, speaking coldly. “Whoever you are, if you’ve come to help, you’d best go see the prefecture lord first. Stop wandering around on your own. I’ll let you go this once. Next time, you won’t be so lucky.”

With that, he flicked his wrist, tossing the finch back into the sky. As it soared upward, Li Yuan glimpsed just a snippet of a shadowy alley where three cloaked figures hurried away. They were all undying husks. Their stats read around 200 for one, and 80 for the other two. In terms of martial cultivation, that likely meant one seventh rank and two eighth rank.

Yet it was clear these three, despite not being top-rank experts by martial standards, were causing widespread chao. They were responsible for the vanished village and the blood-soaked madness in the farming settlement. Even the Farmstead Sect seemed unable to contain them. After all, the sect had no idea what kind of powers these undying husks possessed, or even who among them was truly human.

If they did know, just a single strong elder could have crushed a mere seventh rank and a couple of eighth ranks. But the hidden threat was beyond their comprehension.

“I see a trace of Apparel Atelier at work here,” Li Yuan murmured. “Those undying husks must be connected to that faction. The red glow is probably tied up in it as well.”

He guided the finch to fly higher, pretending to leave. Then he tried to circle back for another look. Immediately, however, he felt a gaze from below—cold, calculating eyes, belonging to a woman, who fixed on the finch in warning.

Left with no choice, he directed the bird into a nearby copse of ancient trees. Once set free in the woods, the finch could fend for itself just fine.

From Li Yuan’s perspective, safe at home and swaying in his rocking chair, he couldn’t help feeling relieved that he’d long since disposed of the Apparel Atelier rouge boxes he’d once come into possession of. Had he kept it, who knew what trouble might have followed, especially since many of the recipients were neither ghost servants nor easily tracked. Even Pang Yuanhua had no way of locating them.

“And that woman earlier, she clearly has the same kind of ability as Pang Yuanhua,” he reflected. “I’ll have to be more careful in the future.”

Letting his other finch continue to shadow Fang Jianlong’s carriage, Li Yuan withdrew his consciousness from the first bird.

This content is taken from (f)reewe(b)novel.𝗰𝗼𝐦