C8 The Yin Corpse Abyss

Xie Hu had made it clear: collecting herbs as an immortal was an entirely different ballgame than it was for mortals. It was, to put it mildly, a far more challenging endeavor. Mortals could easily identify their herbs, but immortals sought after a different sort. Take Spirit Gathering Grass, for instance. It's a common medicinal herb, yet one could easily mistake it for the deadly Evil Spirit Grass. A single touch could cost you half your life, and if luck wasn't on your side, you could die in the wilderness, unknown and undiscovered.

As Han Binn trekked up the mountain path, his fear grew with every step. But he had already committed to the task, shovel in hand—there was no turning back now. Staring at the daunting path ahead, he steeled himself, muttering, "I refuse to believe I'll be poisoned to death." There's truth in the old adage: when you're down on your luck, you could choke on water. And Han Binn's luck seemed to have taken a brief nosedive when, not far into his journey, he stumbled upon a Spirit Gathering Grass. Elated, he eagerly dug it up with his shovel. But before grabbing it with his hands, he hesitated—something felt off. Xie Hu had mentioned that no herbs could be found within a ten-mile radius. How could he have found one so soon?

Out of the corner of his eye, Han Binn spotted a caterpillar on a leaf. Swiftly, he snatched it up and tossed it onto the Spirit Gathering Grass. The caterpillar's green body turned black upon touching the leaf and soon lay motionless. Han Binn inhaled sharply. The toxicity was alarming—if he had made contact, would he have ended up just like the caterpillar?

With this cautionary tale in mind, Han Binn climbed a tree and began collecting caterpillars. Passing disciples chuckled at the sight, and one quipped, "Junior Brother, are you here to gather herbs or caterpillars?" Unfazed by their teasing, Han Binn kept at his task, amassing dozens of caterpillars. He proceeded along the path, testing each Spirit Gathering Grass with a caterpillar. If the insect perished, he left the plant untouched. If it survived, into the medicinal basket it went.

Han Binn didn't bother examining the ground within a five-kilometer radius. Beyond that, he meticulously scoured the terrain, ignoring the obvious, easily-spotted areas in favor of places others seldom ventured. His conversation with Xie Hu the previous evening had shed light on the inner workings of the sect. Xie Hu had done his homework on the sect's affairs before even arriving.

They resided in the Heaven Light Sect, known to mortals as the State Sect, the dwelling place of those deemed immortals. In truth, the inhabitants were not immortals but cultivators, practicing not the Immortal Arts but the Dao Arts. Yet, when one's cultivation reached a certain level, they could soar through the skies and delve into the earth with omnipotent prowess. Immortality was out of reach, but they could significantly prolong their lives. Xie Hu had mentioned that entry into the ranks of cultivators could guarantee a lifespan of at least two hundred years—a stark contrast to the century-long lives of most mortals. Two hundred years was an impressive span indeed. The Heaven Light Sect was divided into two main areas: the inner courtyard, home to the true cultivators, and the outer courtyard, where peripheral disciples like Han Binn busied themselves with menial tasks. Over a thousand such disciples existed, some having served for over a decade, while others were newcomers. Fortunate ones might earn the right to cultivate the Dao; the less fortunate were doomed to a lifetime of chores.

Despite a tinge of disappointment, Han Binn took solace in having reached the abode of the so-called immortals. With determination, he believed he could ascend to their ranks.

Herb gathering was fraught with danger, a task not taken lightly by the outer disciples. In the entire outer courtyard, only a handful, about thirty, were dedicated to this perilous duty. Han Binn had spent several days digging, finding joy in the pursuit of medicinal plants. He rose before dawn and toiled until dusk, his luck holding steady. Though he hadn't stumbled upon any rare specimens, he managed to unearth a Spirit Gathering Grass each day, just enough to meet his quota. This was no small feat, as many outer court disciples struggled to fulfill their obligations. Failure to do so meant going hungry.

Before he knew it, Han Binn had spent over a month in the outer court of the Heaven Light Sect. His days were filled with the monotonous task of herb gathering, yet within that routine, he found moments of joy. Although he hadn't made any progress in cultivating the Immortal Arts, he had learned the martial arts of the mortal realm from Xie Hu, a master who took time out of each day to teach him.

One day, as Han Binn ventured deep into the mountains in search of herbs, a figure materialized ten miles out. He spun around to see a young disciple, about twenty years old, clad in white, standing before him with a slightly pale complexion.

A disciple in white signified membership in the inner court. Xie Hu had explained that the inner court disciples' cultivation levels were reflected in the colors of their attire. Qi Cultivating Stage disciples wore white, Foundation Stage disciples donned red as elders, those at the Golden Core Stage dressed in yellow, and the Sect Master was distinguished by a deep yellow Taoist robe. The legendary Nascent Infant Stage disciples, commanding absolute respect within the sect, wore purple robes.

In contrast, Han Binn's gray garb marked him as an outer disciple, while Sun Yuangang's blue robe indicated his status as an in-name disciple. In-name disciples, though not fully initiated, were eligible to pursue cultivation. An outer disciple could not become an official disciple without a stroke of luck; one had to first become an in-name disciple and, with commendable performance, catch the eye of an elder. Han Binn's ambition was to reach that in-name status, which drove him to diligently seek out herbs. If he could harvest just one herb daily for three years, he would earn the right to cultivate.

Upon encountering the white-clothed disciple, Han Binn paused, taken aback. It was his first encounter with an official disciple since joining the outer court. Eagerly, he greeted, "Greetings, Senior Brother, I am Han Binn." Noticing the other's pallor, Han Binn assumed he was suffering from severe thirst and quickly offered a water-filled gourd from his basket. "Senior Brother, please take this." He knew that extreme thirst could cause such pallor. Han Binn's reasoning was straightforward: as brothers of the same sect, they should naturally assist one another.

The white-clothed disciple let out a derisive snort and knocked over the gourd Han Binn had offered, sneering, "An outer disciple trying to butt in? Please."

Han Binn's face soured. It was clear from the other's tone that he had little respect for outer disciples.

Despite both being members of the Heaven Light Sect, the gap between outer and official disciples was vast. The former were merely mortals with an honorary title, while the latter were genuine cultivators. Cultivators shared a common trait: they seldom regarded mortals with any significance. The elder who had come to Han Binn's aid was truly one in a million.

Suddenly, the whispering wind heralded a change. Flashes of white light signaled the arrival of three white-clothed disciples.

They were young, in their twenties, one woman and two men. The men were striking, with sharp brows and bright eyes, while the woman was stunning, her presence radiating an enticing charm.

One of the men stepped forward confidently. "Tang Xiaofeng, there's nowhere left to run."

Tang Xiaofeng scoffed. "We're within the Heaven Light Sect. Do you really think you can kill me without the elders holding you accountable?"

The woman laughed coldly. "Oh, Brother Tang, no need to be upset. Just hand over what we want, and we'll leave you be."

Tang Xiaofeng's expression chilled. "You shameless woman, you dare show your face? If not for you, would they have any reason to misunderstand me?" With a flirtatious toss of her hair, she sent a coquettish glance at her male companions, who responded with raucous, lascivious laughter.

It all clicked for Han Binn. The woman and her two accomplices had conspired to set up Tang Xiaofeng. But for what purpose?

Tang Xiaofeng let out a laugh and said, "So that's how it is, you wretch. Even if it costs me my life today, I'm going to kill you." A flash of white light appeared before him as a Long Sword hovered in the air.

The three of them each brandished their magical instruments: a fan and two Long Swords. The fan before the woman shone with a blinding white light. Just as she was about to act, she suddenly turned to Han Binn, who stood beside Tang Xiaofeng, and said, "Senior Brother, aren't you going to join the fight?"

Both Tang Xiaofeng and Han Binn were taken aback, with the former quickly spinning around in alert. In that split second, all three magical instruments were hurled towards him. Tang Xiaofeng let out a low shout, his hands swiftly forming a seal. The Long Sword emitted a piercing whistle as it shot forward, knocking aside the two incoming Long Swords in an instant. Seizing the moment, a massive ruler followed, crashing into Tang Xiaofeng's chest with a sickening crack, breaking his sternum and sending his body soaring before it slammed into the ground.

With Tang Xiaofeng grievously wounded, the woman turned to her companions and commanded, "Finish off that man."

In a blink, the two were upon Han Binn like specters. One remarked, "Little Junior Brother, you've got bad luck. You've seen something you weren't supposed to."

Coughing up blood, Tang Xiaofeng finally grasped the situation—he'd been duped. The outer disciples lacked spiritual energy and weren't true cultivators. How had he missed such a glaring flaw? With a wry smile, he rose to his feet. As the two prepared to strike down Han Binn, he interjected, "As cultivators, is it not beneath you to kill a mere mortal?" He wasn't trying to save Han Binn; he was looking for a chance to buy time.

The woman's laughter tinkled through the air. "You think to save a mortal?" She seemed to read Tang Xiaofeng's mind and continued with a smirk, "You're just trying to stall to heal your wounds!" Then, her tone shifted abruptly as she ordered her companions, "Kill him!"

At her command, Tang Xiaofeng sprang into action, unleashing his magical artifact against the woman. In a flash, he was before her, his palms casting countless shadows across the sky. If her allies struck down Han Binn now, she would likely fall to Tang Xiaofeng's assault. His cultivation far surpassed hers, and it would take all three of them to parry even one of his attacks.

Without a second thought, they summoned their magical artifacts and launched an attack on Tang Xiaofeng's back, simultaneously casting several talismans into the fray.

In that instant, Han Binn found himself in the safest position. Snapping out of his daze, he dropped the medicinal basket he was carrying and bolted.

He knew better than to get involved in a skirmish between immortals. One false move and he'd be dead without a place to lay his remains.

Han Binn ran over a mile without stopping. Spotting a dense forest, he darted in without hesitation. The moment he entered, a chilling presence enveloped him, causing him to shudder and halt in his tracks. The thought of his pursuers catching up spurred him to bite the bullet and sprint deeper into the woods. But soon, a rustling sound approached from behind, and Tang Xiaofeng emerged, only to collapse beside him.

From the edge of the forest, the murmurs of the three figures could faintly be heard.

"Xiao Die, do we keep after them?"

"Why bother? This is the Yin Corpse Absolute Land. Are you eager to meet your end?"

"And if they survive?"

"Relax! This place is cursed. Even our Master couldn't decipher its secrets. They won't last long."

"…"

Overhearing this, Han Binn's head grew heavy, and he succumbed to unconsciousness.