A faint cry echoed clearly through the otherwise silent mountain hollow.
Song Changsheng's heart trembled. He quickly rushed in the direction of the sound. Before a haystack, he saw the lifeless bodies of a man and a woman, kneeling as they embraced each other.
They held each other tightly, their faces filled with fear.
They were a young couple, probably in their early twenties. Nearby lay two small bundles, stuffed with valuables and two golden flatbreads.
It seemed they had tried to escape this hell on earth when disaster struck, but their physical changes had left them in despair. In the end, the couple died in each other's arms.
The baby's weak cries came from between their bodies.
Reaching out, Song Changsheng gently separated them, revealing an infant wrapped in swaddling cloth. The tiny child had his eyes shut tight, his pale little hands waving helplessly in the air as he whimpered softly.
"This child... wasn't implanted with a gu worm?"
Song Changsheng carefully picked the baby up, momentarily at a loss. In both his lives, he had never taken care of a child before.
He stared blankly for a while before finally reaching out to gently wipe the dried blood from the child's face, his heart full of pity.
The baby looked like he had just turned one month old.
He should have had a happy home, but now, it was all gone like a mirage.
Of the tens of thousands in his clan, it seemed only this child had survived.
Seeing the baby stirred memories of Song Changsheng's past life.
Back then, at least he had a messy but loving grandfather. But this child... had no one to rely on.
Song Changsheng examined him thoroughly. No injuries. No signs of gu worms.
It must be because he had been born not long ago; Feng Wuming probably hadn't had time to implant the worm yet. That was the only reason this newborn had escaped with his life.
Lucky and yet so very unlucky.
"Senior Song, the little guy's probably starving," Wu Yan reminded him from the side.
"This..."
Song Changsheng frowned. The two of them were grown men; they didn't have the necessary equipment.
He did have spiritual liquid on hand, but the child's body was far too fragile. Even a single drop could make him explode on the spot.
"You keep collecting the bodies. Be on the lookout for any other survivors. I'll take the little one to find something to eat."
With that, he carried the baby and headed into the forest.
Watching the clumsy way Song Changsheng held the infant as he disappeared into the trees, Wu Yan couldn't help but feel deeply moved.
"This Senior Song is truly something else."
From the very beginning, he had sensed there was something unusual about Song Changsheng.
He was a lofty Foundation Establishment cultivator, yet he had shown no disdain toward low-ranking Qi Refining rogue cultivators like them. He even addressed them as "Daoist friends."
He had taken the initiative to save more than a dozen of his fellow brothers' lives. Anyone else in his position wouldn't have cared whether a few rogue cultivators lived or died; most would've considered it a kindness not to kill them outright.
More than that, he showed anger when seeing mortals slaughtered. He showed compassion when he saw a surviving infant.
In this world, even those so-called righteous cultivators who constantly preached about justice rarely acted like this.
In the eyes of most cultivators, the lives of mortals were no more valuable than weeds on the roadside.
If the great sacred lands didn't strictly forbid the slaughter of mortals, those "righteous cultivators" likely wouldn't be much different from the demonic path.
Compared to that, Song Changsheng's actions were nearly saint-like. Wu Yan's heart was filled with admiration.
He knew he could never do what Song Changsheng did. Even faced with a field of corpses, at most, he would light a fire to give them a proper cremation so they wouldn't rot in the open.
"There are people out there calling Senior Song a ruthless killer who slaughters without blinking. What a joke. Someone should gouge their eyes out and make them see the truth!" Wu Yan thought bitterly.
Looking down at the now-stiffening corpses of the young couple, Wu Yan shook his head and whispered,
"To meet someone like Senior Song in your final moments... You may rest in peace."
With that, he summoned a phantom hand to gently lift the two bodies, preparing to place them with the others.
Clink.
As the woman was lifted off the ground, a circular jade pendant engraved with a cloud motif slipped from her collar and fell to the ground with a crisp sound.
Wu Yan picked it up and examined it. There was an ancient character carved on the back. He had heard of such a script, but as a self-taught cultivator, he couldn't read it.
"It's just ordinary white jade, but it might make a decent keepsake."
He slipped it casually into his storage pouch and continued gathering the bodies.
Meanwhile, to feed the little guy, Song Changsheng had no choice but to improvise, becoming a reluctant milk collector. Under the resentful and fearful gaze of a mother leopard, he walked away victoriously with a small jar of beast milk.
After drinking it, the baby's condition improved noticeably. He no longer cried or fussed, his big, watery eyes staring at Song Changsheng with curiosity.
And then... he peed all over him.
By the time Song Changsheng, flustered and disheveled, returned to the mountain hollow, the last rays of sunlight had already been swallowed by darkness.
Wu Yan, ever diligent, had gathered all the bodies and buried them together in a large pit.
There were simply too many; it wasn't realistic to bury them one by one. This mass grave was already the best resting place the Ling Clan could hope for.
"You worked hard today."
The child in Song Changsheng's arms was fast asleep, and his voice unconsciously softened. If they weren't standing close, Wu Yan might not have even heard him.
"It was nothing, just doing what little I could," Wu Yan replied modestly.
Looking at the large mound of earth before him, Song Changsheng picked up a piece of green stone and, using his fingers like blades, quickly carved lines of small characters into it. Then he set the stone upright in front of the grave.
This was mainly to explain what had happened. The Ling Clan was a prominent family in this region; if they were suddenly wiped out, it would surely spark panic and investigation.
After all, no matter where you were, the slaughter of mortals was a grave taboo.
When everything was done, Song Changsheng let out a soft sigh and murmured, "Let's head back."
Wu Yan nodded, then took out the jade pendant he had found. "Senior, I discovered this on the child's mother."
Song Changsheng took the pendant and examined it closely. He was surprised to find it engraved with the ancient character for "Ling".
This ancient script dated back over a hundred thousand years, vastly different from modern writing. Without formal education, it was nearly impossible to recognize.
Here, the distinction between clan disciples and rogue cultivators became clear. Members of the Song Clan were required to master this knowledge before reaching adulthood.
Wu Yan, being self-taught, had no access to such things.
In this world, someone could inherit a legacy and yet be unable to even read it.
"'Ling' must be your surname, then." Song Changsheng tucked the pendant close to the child's body and whispered, "From now on, you'll be called Lingyun."
"Senior, what do you plan to do with the child?" Wu Yan asked curiously as they made their way back.
The more time he spent around Song Changsheng, the bolder he became. Though he still addressed him as "Senior," he was fairly certain the man wasn't even thirty yet.
In the mortal world, that age might make someone a father of several children, but among cultivators, especially Foundation Establishment ones who could live over two hundred years, it was barely the beginning of adulthood. He had no experience raising children.
Wu Yan could tell Song Changsheng liked the baby not just out of sympathy but perhaps because of some deeper connection.
Still, it was obvious that Song Changsheng had important business. He had come from Lingzhou to Xiangzhou, and traveling with a newborn would be far from convenient.
What Wu Yan meant, without saying outright, was that it would be best to find a suitable family to entrust the child to.
Song Changsheng understood the implied suggestion. Looking down at the peacefully sleeping Lingyun in his arms, a trace of hesitation rose in his heart.
To be honest, he truly liked the child not just out of pity for his tragic circumstances, but also because he felt an inexplicable bond with him.
But the reality was harsh.
He had come to escort Qing Xing to Heavenly Sword Sect, which was in the middle of a war zone between two major sects. Danger lurked around every corner. Bringing along such a fragile child who could be killed by a mere ripple of battle was simply too risky.
Besides, he genuinely didn't know how to take care of a child. He hadn't even managed to properly look after Qingxi, let alone a baby barely a month old.
He found himself caught in a painful dilemma: take the child with him, or find him a safe mortal home?
From a safety standpoint, he leaned toward the latter.
Finally, he looked at Wu Yan and asked, "Are there any well-reputed small families nearby?"
"Senior, about a thousand miles southwest, there's the Wang family, a cultivation clan. I have an old connection with their patriarch. I could entrust Lingyun to them," Wu Yan replied respectfully.
"In that case, I'll trouble you to lead the way."
...
Inside the inn, Song Qingxi paced anxiously around her room, her delicate face clouded with worry.
The Old Ghost of Redfire had already returned some time ago. Watching the agitated Song Qingxi, he grinned widely enough to show his row of yellow teeth and said confidently,
"Miss, there's no need to worry. With the Young Master's cultivation, there aren't many in Xiangzhou who could threaten him. He's probably just delayed by something. Please, rest assured."
He knew better than anyone how strong Song Changsheng was; his chest still ached faintly from their earlier encounter.
Besides, if Song Changsheng had died somewhere, he wouldn't be sitting here safe and sound. He'd already be buried with him.
But his words did little to comfort Song Qingxi. She walked right up to him and said,
"Aren't you supposed to be my uncle's follower? Then go find him and bring him back!"
The Old Ghost of Redfire immediately shook his head like a rattle drum and spread his hands helplessly.
"Miss, the City of Rogues isn't safe. Without the Young Master here, I must protect you both. If I abandoned my post and left, the Young Master would surely be furious when he returned."
What a joke. If Song Changsheng couldn't handle something, what good would he be? Adding him to the mix wouldn't change anything.
In his mind, the safety of these two little ancestors was far more important. He knew exactly where his priorities lay.
But Song Qingxi wasn't buying it. She stomped her foot in frustration and snapped,
"What danger could we possibly face here? You're just afraid to die!"
"If I weren't afraid of death, I'd already be in the underworld," the Old Ghost muttered under his breath, not at all moved by her outburst. His loyalty was to Song Changsheng, and as long as he followed orders, that was enough.
Seeing that he refused to budge, Song Qingxi's eyes narrowed as an idea came to her. She planted her hands on her hips and declared,
"Fine, if you won't go, I will!"
As soon as she finished speaking, Song Qingxi reached out to open the door.
But the Old Ghost of Redfire wasn't about to let her do as she pleased. He immediately cast a restriction and sealed the room. After all, he was a late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator. Even though Song Changsheng had once slapped him to the ground, dealing with a little Qi Condensation girl was still an easy task.
"You...!"
Song Qingxi was furious, glaring at the old ghost with wide, puffed-up eyes.
Just as the standoff was reaching a boiling point, the door suddenly swung open.
A tall figure in a green robe stepped into the room. Seeing Song Qingxi all worked up, he smiled warmly and asked,
"What's going on? Who's made you so angry this time?"
The moment they saw Song Changsheng return safely, everyone in the room let out a breath of relief.
Before Song Qingxi could complain, the Old Ghost of Redfire dropped to his knees and said respectfully,
"Reporting to Young Master, it was this old servant who upset the young miss."
Song Changsheng, fully aware of what had happened, deliberately put on a stern face and said,
"Oh? Is that so? Then I must give you a serious punishment this time!"
"This old servant accepts the punishment."
Seeing this, Song Qingxi's heart instantly softened. In a quiet voice, she said,
"It was my fault for being willful; it wasn't his."
"In that case, I'll let him off the hook this time," Song Changsheng said, smiling gently.
The Old Ghost of Redfire quickly cupped his hands toward her and said,
"Many thanks to the young miss for her mercy."
Their little performance left Song Qingxi's face flushed with embarrassment.
Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, she noticed something in Song Changsheng's arms. Looking closely, she realized it was a baby.
Her mind short-circuited. Weren't you just out to settle some personal grudge? Why did you bring back a child?!
"Uncle... who's that in your arms?"
Before Song Changsheng could answer, Wu Yan, who had followed him in quickly, stepped forward and recounted the entire story.
When Song Qingxi heard that the entire Ling Clan had been massacred, she gasped and covered her mouth in shock. Looking at the baby, her eyes filled with sorrow.
"So he's an orphan now..."
Song Changsheng nodded solemnly. Then he turned to Wu Yan and said,
"Thank you for all your help today. I hope these things can be of use to you."
As he spoke, he handed a storage pouch to Wu Yan.
Startled, Wu Yan waved his hands in panic,
"Senior, you saved the lives of over a dozen of my brothers. I'm already deeply indebted. How could I possibly accept your gifts?"
But Song Changsheng didn't give him a choice. He pushed the pouch into Wu Yan's hands and patted his shoulder.
"You made the right choice today. You deserve this. Take it and get some rest. If you ever need anything, come find me at the Song Clan in Lingzhou."
Those words carried serious weight.
Wu Yan accepted the storage pouch with a deep bow.
"Thank you for your generosity, Senior. I shall take my leave."
After Wu Yan departed, Song Changsheng finally turned to the Old Ghost of Redfire and asked,
"So, how did the investigation I asked you to do go?"
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