The Invincible Supreme Medical God-Chapter 1101 - 585: Refusing to Give Up (Part 2)
In order to determine if Yan Xiaobao was truly dead, the sect leader sought help from an elder of the sect skilled in drawing information from the sky. Unfortunately, his divination magic offered no hints suggesting Yan Xiaobao was still alive in the world. The only thing he discovered was a death aura, which seemed to confirm that Yan Xiaobao...had died in battle, fighting for the sect.
A few days later, on a rainy morning, the entire Spiritual Flow Sect could hear the sorrowful sound of a bell tolling. Countless disciples in black robes silently emerged from their dwellings, their faces filled with grief as they gathered halfway up Xiangyun Peak.
There, a tombstone was erected, adorned with a portrait of Yan Xiaobao, smiling happily.
Fatty Zhang stood among the crowd. He glanced at those around him, then looked at the tombstone and Yan Xiaobao's name. As the rain fell and soaked his clothes, he wept, recalling all his memories of the past. He remembered how they devoured various stolen spiritual treasures, how they laughed and joked together, how they sold points at the Outer Church, and about stealing chickens...
"Ninth Fatty..." Fatty Zhang murmured, looking sorrowful. His heart felt empty, and the pain made the whole world turn dark.
From the oven, the other fat brothers of Yan Xiaobao were also filled with sorrow and couldn't stop crying, including the third fat black man.
Xu Baocai, Chen Ziang, Zhao Yiduo, Xu and Elder Zhou, and countless others who had known Yan Xiaobao since he joined the sect, all stood in the crowd, faces full of sadness.
Zhou Xinqi came over, silently staring at the tombstone. After hearing about what Yan Xiaobao had done, she couldn't help but remember how eagerly he searched for chicken thieves.
Hou Yunfei arrived, supporting Hou Xiaomei's shoulder. He stood there, fists clenched, shaking with grief.
"Little Brother Bai..." A bitter smile twisted his face. After returning to the sect, he started drinking. He couldn't forget the moment Yan Xiaobao led all the enemies away, using himself as bait.
More and more people showed up until the middle part of Xiangyun Peak was filled with countless disciples, all silently gazing at the tombstone.
In front of the crowd stood Du Lingfei. Her face was pale, and it was impossible to distinguish between the tears and the rain on her cheeks. She seemed dazed, and although her face was as beautiful as ever, that beauty now evoked sadness and pain.
"You could have lived...but I came, and you left..." Du Lingfei had spent recent days in grief and pain. She had lost weight and often dreamed of the moment Yan Xiaobao returned, unwavering and resolute. Then he left, a scene that made her cry and suffer.
As the mourning bells rang out from all directions, beams of light shot toward the tombstone. Among them were the seven Peak Lords, all the Spiritual Flow Sect elders, and even the sect leader. They wore black robes, their expressions filled with sorrow as they gathered near the tombstone.
As for Li Qinghou, his heart was full of bitterness and self-blame.
After a moment, the sect leader began to speak, his voice calm and slow.
"Yan Xiaobao was an outer sect disciple of Xiangyun Peak in the Spiritual Flow Sect. He was a sun of the Medical Path, a chosen one among the disciples. In the battle against the Luochen Clan, he killed countless Luochen traitors and sacrificed himself to save his fellow disciples. He was loyal to his sect and gave his life with the greatest of merits. The disciples of the spirit will always remember his name!"
His voice was filled with sorrow, and as it echoed, Du Lingfei's tears flowed even more. Hou Yunfei, Big Fatty Zhang, and countless others were crying.
"On this day, I bestow upon Yan Xiaobao the title of the Spiritual Flow Sect's distinguished disciple!" In response to the sect leader's words, countless disciples were moved. Hearing the term "Prestige Disciple" stirred everyone.
In the Spiritual Flow Sect, this position was a peerless honor. In any generation, there could only be one Prestige Disciple in the sect. It was a position above the Inner Sect, akin to the status of the Legacy Echelon. The title of Prestige Disciple was given to the deceased, whereas the Legacy Echelon was the mightiest in life.
In the ten thousand-year history of the Spirit Sect, only nine disciples had held such a title, each bestowed posthumously after dying in battle for the sect. So far, there are now ten such disciples in the sect's history.
No one present felt that the honor was inappropriate. Yan Xiaobao had earned it with his life.
"From the time he joined the sect until he sacrificed his life," the sect leader continued, "Yan Xiaobao never had a master. I have given my life for this sect and will not let him wander alone in the underworld. Therefore, I will, on behalf of my deceased teacher, the Daoist Master Spiritsieve, accept Yan Xiaobao as his apprentice. From now on, he may pursue the great Dao in the underworld." In response to the sect leader's words, Li Qinghou nodded, with a flash of pain in his eyes as he looked at the tombstone.
"Now everyone... observe a moment of silence!" Then the sect leader closed his eyes and lowered his head, just like all the other disciples.
After a few breaths, the moment of silence ended. Du Lingfei could no longer contain her emotions and began to wail.
As everyone was observing the moment of silence, back in the Nameless Mountain Range at the same moment, Yan Xiaobao slowly opened his eyes and sneezed. The moment of the sneeze was the moment Yan Xiaobao awoke. His mind was still in the state from when he was severely injured and falling into a coma, so as soon as he woke up, he instinctively clutched his left arm and let out a pitiful cry. However, the moment that cry left his lips, he looked down in surprise at his arm, then looked at his body. He started poking and prodding himself, even opening his clothes to look at his soft white belly.
"EEE? No injuries?" Suddenly, he remembered the words the village elders often said, and his eyes flickered with fear. It was said that when a person died, their soul would enter the shadow of the underworld. At this moment, it seemed he had no injuries, which meant he must only be a soul... Trembling, he glanced around and realized that everything around him was dead. Even all the plants and grass had withered. Chen Heng's body was nowhere to be seen.
As he looked around, he also noticed mist everywhere. He couldn't see much, and everything at a certain distance was completely blurry. A faint aura of death emanated in the area, bringing a chill that washed over his body.
"That's it. It's over... I was so careful throughout most of my poor little life, yet in the end, I lost it..." Yan Xiaobao was now more certain that he had lost his soul. His face twisted in agony, and he let out a pain-filled moan.
"I didn't even give Du Lingfei a chance to repay me wholeheartedly... Brother Hou still has his promise... People don't know I'm the main turtle, and there are still many Spirit Tail Chickens to eat in the world. I... I haven't lived forever yet..." The more he thought about it, the more his heart ached. Tears started streaming down his eyes.
However, just as he began to cry loudly...someone cleared their throat.
The sound was so sudden that it startled Yan Xiaobao.
"Who's there?!" he screamed, crawling forward across the ground, then turning around, with a wooden sword in his hand.
He saw an old man standing where he had just been lying. The old man wore a long black robe, looking almost like a corpse, as he stared at Yan Xiaobao in a disturbingly intense way.
His body exuded a strong death aura. Coupled with numerous wrinkles covering his pale face, he seemed to have just crawled out of a grave. He matched the surroundings perfectly, appearing utterly terrifying.
As soon as Yan Xiaobao saw him, all the hair on his body stood upright, and he suddenly remembered numerous frightening tales about murdering ghosts. But then he realized that if he himself was already dead, there was nothing to be worried about. He jutted out his chin, gave a cold harrumph, and slowly stood up.
...
