That man… could he be planning to kill him, using his death to cultivate the demonic art?
The thought slipped into Zhou Wen's mind uncontrollably, and he instinctively pressed himself flat against the cold wall of the wooden hut, holding his breath. For the first time, he regretted leaving the safety of the crowd. If he had stayed with the others, even if that man wanted to strike, he might have hesitated in the presence of so many witnesses.
But now, the footsteps outside drew nearer.
And then—another sound reached his ears.
Creak, creak…
The sound of chewing.
Zhou Wen furrowed his brows, listening carefully. Could it be…?
He dared to lean forward, peeking through the crack in the door. His eyes widened in disbelief.
The mysterious figure was indeed walking in his direction, but at the same time, he was pulling out large chunks of raw meat from his bundle, stuffing them into his mouth without the slightest hesitation. He chewed noisily, as if the entire valley did not exist.
Zhou Wen froze in shock.
At a time like this, he was eating? And walking so casually, without a hint of vigilance? Was he really just hungry?
Watching the other man's relaxed, almost carefree demeanor, Zhou Wen felt the tension in his chest loosen just a little. Perhaps he had been too quick to assume the worst. He even let out a bitter laugh at himself—how easily he had painted the man as a murderer.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed the wooden door open and stepped out.
"Hey! You there!" Zhou Wen called, raising his voice. "Do you even realize what kind of situation we're in?"
The man—Qin Yi—glanced up at him with the briefest flicker of his eyes before lowering his head again, continuing to chew. He didn't bother to respond.
Zhou Wen hurried forward, cutting him off.
"Listen to me first!" Zhou Wen's expression turned serious. "My guess was right. The so-called 'immortal' who brought us here has no good intentions. He abandoned us here to fight and kill each other!"
Qin Yi calmly nodded, acknowledging the statement, but kept silent. He pulled out another slab of raw meat and ate slowly, savoring each bite.
His indifference made Zhou Wen grind his teeth in frustration. He grabbed Qin Yi's hand and raised his voice.
"Did you even understand me? You got the cultivation manual too, didn't you? Did you see what it demands? It tells us to kill people! To become immortals through slaughter! How could there be such a method? It must be a lie—something to trick us into butchering each other!"
At last, Qin Yi swallowed his food and spoke, his tone flat and calm.
"The technique isn't fake."
"What?" Zhou Wen stiffened. His body took a step back on instinct. "What do you mean it's not fake? Don't tell me… you've already practiced it? You've… killed someone?"
Qin Yi shook his head. He set aside the last piece of meat and explained:
"You didn't understand its essence. Killing is just one method. The true foundation of the art is feeding. As long as you have enough food, you don't need to kill. You can still cultivate the technique."
Zhou Wen was stunned. He stared at Qin Yi, then at the bundle he carried, a realization dawning in his mind.
"So… that's why you brought all that meat with you?"
Qin Yi shook his head again. "Coincidence. And what I ate just now wasn't from my own supply. Underneath the tables in the huts, there's meat hidden. Most people were too focused on the manuals to notice what lay at their feet."
Zhou Wen froze, then spun on his heels and sprinted back to his own hut.
He dropped to the floor, peering beneath the rough wooden table—and sure enough, there it was. A sack of raw meat wrapped tightly in animal hide, tucked neatly into the corner. If Qin Yi hadn't told him, he would never have found it.
Dragging it out, he tore the bag open. The smell of blood hit him instantly. Inside were chunks of uncooked, bloody flesh, still dripping, grotesque and unsettling.
His stomach turned. Could he even bite into something like this?
But Qin Yi's words echoed in his mind.
Steeling himself, Zhou Wen raised a piece to his mouth and forced a bite.
His eyes flew wide.
The meat, though raw and bloody, softened the moment it touched his tongue. It slid down his throat with ease, as if it were made to be consumed this way.
And then, warmth. A rush of energy spread from his stomach, coursing through his veins, filling every limb with a strange, blissful power.
Zhou Wen no longer hesitated. He devoured piece after piece, until the entire sack of meat was gone.
The warmth intensified, waves of it flooding his body, until he thought he could hear something inside himself breaking—chains, limits, barriers.
And then it happened.
He was no longer the same.
He could feel it—the separation between mortal and immortal. However faint, however fragile, he had crossed that line.
He was… an immortal.
Even the weakest of immortals, but still—an immortal!
Zhou Wen trembled. He could scarcely believe it. Could the path to transcendence really be so simple?
But before he could lose himself in joy, a scream ripped through the valley.
Sharp, chilling, filled with terror.
Zhou Wen's expression darkened.
The chaos had begun.
With cultivation manuals scattered about, conflict was inevitable. And this particular technique was nothing less than a scripture of slaughter.
It would not be long before the valley drowned in blood.
Without hesitation, Zhou Wen ran toward the sound. His body moved faster than he ever thought possible—distances that should have taken minutes were crossed in mere strides.
He arrived to find a thin, wiry man pressing a woman against a wall, struggling to rip a manual from her arms.
"Let go!" she cried.
Zhou Wen charged forward and shoved the man lightly. But even the lightest touch now held immense force—the man was flung aside like a rag doll, collapsing on the ground in a daze.
Zhou Wen ignored him and turned to the woman.
She stared at him, wide-eyed, then forced a sweet, grateful smile.
But in the next instant, that smile froze.
Zhou Wen's hand moved faster than she could react.
In the blink of an eye, the manual was no longer in her arms—it was in his.