Chapter 3

Chapter 3: A Field

Morning.

The timid woman woke with her head throbbing. Sunlight spilled through the doorway in a thin golden line.

She jolted upright, confused.

Wasn’t it night?

Outside was day.

Had she been unconscious until morning?

She swallowed hard and looked around.

Hu Guan’s corpse lay nearby. Flow lay not far from it.

The timid woman crawled toward Flow, moving like any noise might kill her. Her hands shook.

Flow’s chest rose and fell.

Not dead.

The timid woman forced herself to breathe. She’d met Flow on the road through the ruined city, never realizing what she really was.

Now she knew Flow was anything but ordinary.

But she couldn’t think about that yet. Alone here, she wouldn’t survive another day.

She reached out and shook Flow’s shoulder.

Flow’s eyes snapped open.

The cold sharpness in her gaze made the timid woman flinch back so hard her palms scraped raw against the floor.

For an instant, Flow looked like a completely different person. She pushed herself upright—and immediately winced as dizziness hit.

Someone had knocked her out.

Who?

She was Captain of Jin Ling Base’s Windfish Team. Sixth Seal. And that masked man had crushed her like she was nothing.

A monster that strong, and there hadn’t been a whisper about him.

“When did you wake up?” Flow demanded, eyes cutting to the timid woman.

“Just now,” the timid woman whispered.

Flow didn’t reply. She steadied herself against the wall, rubbed her forehead, and forced the fog from her mind. That strike had been heavy enough to keep her down until morning.

She turned and walked to Hu Guan’s body.

The fatal wound was at the throat.

But her eyes narrowed at his chest.

There was a mark there—an odd, familiar shape.

A Windfish dart wound.

Her Windfish dart.

Flow’s stomach sank.

He framed me.

The masked man wanted Hu Guan’s death pinned on her. Ruthless.

Flow dragged the corpse outside and threw it down.

The thud drew smaller mutated beasts from nearby rubble. They rushed in, eager, and began to chew.

The timid woman watched, trembling. When Flow’s gaze flicked her way, she nearly folded in on herself.

“Move,” Flow said coldly.

She picked a direction and started west.

The timid woman stumbled after her, foot still bleeding, not daring to complain. She didn’t care about pain anymore. She only cared about getting back to Jin Ling Base alive.

The sun climbed higher, scorching the streets.

Wang Jie waited in the shade cast by a buckled slab of road. This route was the main path into Jin Ling Base from the east. If those two women returned, they’d pass here.

Dust rose in the distance as convoys rolled past. A familiar face appeared in one of the windows and nodded toward Wang Jie.

Wang Jie nodded back, watching them go.

That man was another guide.

Jin Ling Base had plenty. The work paid fast and let you hunt disaster materials on the side. Do it long enough, and you might even build enough strength to join a hunting squad.

If you didn’t die first.

Among guides, Wang Jie’s call sign was Wildgrass.

Hard to wipe out. Impossible to make bloom.

Because no matter what he did, he always showed only Second Seal strength.

Otherwise, with his knowledge of the wild, a hunting squad would have snatched him up long ago.

No one approached him.

So he looked up into the sun and focused.

The phantom figures returned to his vision, fingers carving patterns in the air. He watched until something clicked into place.

Wang Jie lifted his hand and pointed.

The force of his finger stopped halfway. Half a meter beyond his fingertip, the air twisted into a spiral and drilled forward, piercing into the ground—while directly in front of his finger, the air remained perfectly still.

Air-piercing force.

He’d done it.

Wang Jie exhaled slowly.

Then… he’d keep planting.

He closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, the world had changed.

The blazing sun was gone, replaced by a gray, hazy sky. Nothing existed out here—nothing he could see—except a single field beneath his feet.

A field. Just dirt.

Wang Jie pointed again.

A finger technique formed as a clear brand above the field and fell like a seed into soil.

Over the years, he’d discovered he could plant combat techniques here, turning them into brands. He’d planted many, yet the field had never responded.

He hadn’t expected anything now.

But the moment the brand sank into the earth, the field changed.

Three green shoots pushed up from the dark soil, growing at a visible pace until they reached waist height. Then they budded and bloomed.

Wang Jie stared, a rare spark of excitement in his chest.

Finally.

Then the growth stopped.

Three half-grown plants, blooming—and nothing else.

No fruit.

No harvest.

What was the point?

Wang Jie circled them, frowning, and reached out to touch the first plant.

His eyes brightened.

He touched the second.

Then the third.

He lowered his hand, stunned.

So that was how it worked.

He had planted a technique and grown a technique: Heaven-and-Earth Luo Xuan Finger.

That part made sense.

What didn’t make sense was the price.

To harvest Heaven-and-Earth Luo Xuan Finger, he needed fertilizer.

A heartbroken girl’s tears.

A flower grown for thirty-three years.

A villain’s severed finger.

Those three things had to be placed into the three blooms.

Only then would the technique be ready.

Wang Jie didn’t know whether to laugh or swear. A villain’s severed finger, fine. But the other two?

What kind of ridiculous requirements were those?

He shook his head, and the gray world rippled and fell away.

He was back in reality.

Wang Jie waited a while longer. Convoys passed in both directions—some returning, some departing.

Then, at last, two figures appeared in the distance, supporting each other as they walked.

Wang Jie lifted an eyebrow.

There you are. Still acting, too.

He closed his eyes and waited until they were close.

Flow spotted him first, her gaze sharpening.

He was alive?

“Is that him?” the timid woman blurted.

Flow didn’t hesitate. She walked straight up. “Wildgrass?”

Wang Jie opened his eyes as if startled. “You two?”

Then his gaze flicked behind them, wary. “Where’s that man?”

Flow studied him. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” Wang Jie asked, blank.

“You really went to the supermarket rooftop?” Flow pressed.

Wang Jie nodded.

“After you left,” Flow said, “he left too. We don’t know where he went.”

The timid woman didn’t speak. Her eyes stayed on the ground—on Wang Jie’s footprints.

Wang Jie rolled his shoulder and let out a heavy breath, as if frustrated. “He’s the man the hunting squad wanted. A careful bastard. That palm strike didn’t seal my imprint power at all. He was just trying to scare me.”

He clicked his tongue. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have turned on the signal device. If I run into hunting squad people inside the base now, it’ll be trouble.”

He looked at them sharply. “If you see those hunting squad people, don’t tell them who I am.”

Flow’s brows rose. “You really turned it on?”

Wang Jie spread his hands, helpless. “Those vines nearly killed me. I thought activating the signal might draw the hunting squad over, but there wasn’t time. I got lucky and escaped. Otherwise I’d be dead.”

He looked them over with apparent surprise. “And you two made it back. That’s not easy.”

The timid woman stared at Flow’s back.

Made it back?

No. Flow hadn’t merely survived. She’d slaughtered everything in their path.

Flow didn’t ask more. She fell into step with Wang Jie, and together they guided the timid woman toward Jin Ling Base.

The land here was safer. Jin Ling Base was close.

Outside the walls, countless tents clustered together like a second city. Not everyone was allowed inside the base.

Ten years into the apocalypse, the base had built massive walls to keep mutated beasts out. The price was space. The territory inside the walls couldn’t expand to hold more people.

Cultivators and hunting squads claimed land and built out their own areas. The weak were pushed to the outside.

Only when a beast tide threatened would outsiders be allowed in to shelter. Otherwise, the gates stayed closed.

It was brutal. It was also reality.

Wang Jie looked at the towering wall—nearly a hundred meters high. Jin Ling Base sprawled across the earth like a sleeping giant.

In Hua Xia, five major bases gathered what remained of humanity. Jin Ling Base was one of them.

It was ruled by an extreme powerhouse: Hong Jian, one of the Five Extremes.

Under Hong Jian, powerful cultivators gathered from across eastern Hua Xia to keep the base standing.

Figures lined the wall above, watching the ground below with weapons in hand. Their clothing wasn’t luxurious, but it was clean. Many wore protective materials scavenged or crafted from mutated resources.

Below the wall, the tent sea teemed with ragged people.

In this era, even clean clothes counted as wealth.

Even after ten years, humans were still being crushed. They couldn’t afford to care about comfort when the world outside held far more life than they did—and it evolved far faster.

The three of them entered the city without incident.

Flow tried to pay Wang Jie in cash, but he waved her off. He’d abandoned them in that house, and the guilt sat uncomfortably in his chest.

“Take the beast blood,” the timid woman said, pulling a glass bottle from her clothes and offering it to him. “It’s useless to me.”

The blood inside glowed red in the sunlight.

Wang Jie blinked. “You carried this the whole time?”

Flow looked surprised as well.

“Just in case,” the timid woman whispered.

Wang Jie held her gaze for a long moment, then accepted the bottle and tucked it away. “Thanks.”

He turned and walked off.

The timid woman watched him disappear into the crowd. Then she looked to Flow.

Flow didn’t even glance at her. She simply walked away.

From the beginning, Flow had used her.

Bringing her back alive was already mercy.

The timid woman pressed her lips together, then hurried after Wang Jie.

The main street wasn’t crowded. This had once been Jin Ling City’s central avenue, but the old neat pavement was long gone. Mud churned beneath every step.

People dragged mutated beast corpses past, stench clinging to the air like a wet cloth.

Dirty water splashed up the timid woman’s legs. She didn’t care. She kept going.

“Looking for me?”

Wang Jie’s voice came from an alley.

She spun and saw him leaning against a wall, watching her calmly.

She swallowed and stepped closer. “I want to ask you for help.”

Wang Jie straightened and motioned her deeper behind the wall.

She followed.

A heap of garbage filled the alley, foul enough to sting the eyes.

“What is it?” Wang Jie asked.

The timid woman gathered her courage. “I… I want you to help me find my brother.”

Wang Jie frowned. “I’m a guide.”

“I still have beast blood,” she said quickly, louder now. “Name your price.”

Wang Jie pulled out the bottle she’d just been given. “This counts as a deposit?”

“No!” she said, panicked. “That was for you. If you agree, I can give you more beast blood as the deposit.”

Wang Jie studied her. “Where did he disappear?”

She rattled off a location, relief spilling into her face the moment she spoke—like she thought the deal was already done.

Wang Jie’s brows tightened. “That place is dangerous. You went there too?”

She hesitated, then nodded.

Wang Jie’s voice sharpened. “And what made you think you had the right to go?”

She didn’t answer.

Wang Jie turned as if to leave.

“Wait!” She lunged after him.

Wang Jie stopped and looked back, expression flat. “You have five seconds.”

Her lips trembled. Then she forced the words out. “I… I can sense danger.”

Wang Jie’s eyes widened. “Sense danger? What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, she lifted her gaze to the sky.

She didn’t have to say anything else.

Wang Jie understood.

She was a cultivator.

And yet, oddly, he couldn’t feel any cultivation aura from her at all.