Chapter 685: Three-Color Carp

Ink Painting’s pupils micro-shrank.

"This is... the aura of an evil god?"

This small fishing village, is it harboring an evil god of the blood kin?

Ink Painting’s pupils were even deeper, a patch of pitch-black at the bottom of his eyes, above which white heavenly patterns were interwoven, looking around.

But the blood mist enveloped everything, covering the heavenly secrets and devouring cause and effect.

The blood-colored fishing village was gloomy and desolate, hazy inside, and he couldn't make out anything at all.

"Do you want to go inside and take a look?"

Ink Painting felt as if his mind was being attracted, just one step, and suddenly his heart palpitated, making him instantly alert.

"Something's wrong."

Ink Painting’s gaze sank.

"Something is tempting me..."

Cannot go!

The blood mist was hazy, there must be a murderous intent hidden within, and he didn't know what was lurking inside.

Are there "god remains" of an evil god? What level of god remains?

Are there cultivators possessed by evil gods? Are there evil gods' believers and minions, and how many? What are their cultivation levels?

All of this was unknown, and he was alone, so he absolutely could not act rashly.

Moreover, he was just a small cultivator at the Foundation Establishment stage. When he should be cowardly, he should just be a little cowardly, and there was nothing shameful about it.

Ink Painting restrained his curiosity and slowly retreated step by step towards the outside of the small fishing village.

It wasn't until he left the fishing village and stepped onto the mud outside the village that Ink Painting fixed his gaze again and found that the blood mist in front of his eyes had already receded.

Under the night sky, the small fishing village was dotted with lights, quiet and peaceful, without the slightest abnormality.

Ink Painting’s brows, however, furrowed even tighter.

"What exactly happened inside this fishing village..."

The night was still very deep, and Ink Painting still didn't dare to step into the darkness of the blood kin.

Evil gods should still be terrifying.

Cultivators' knowledge of cultivation was varied, and the gods' knowledge of the divine path was equally profound.

The knowledge of the gods that Lord Huang Shan spoke of that day, Ink Painting understood, but he didn't fully understand it either.

He was after all a "person", not a born "god", and knew very little about the gods' taboos.

To think that he could despise evil gods and kill in all directions just based on the fragments he heard from Lord Huang Shan was somewhat absurd.

So, he still needed to be cautious.

Don't fight unprepared battles.

Ink Painting nodded.

This was the basic principle of demon hunters hunting demon beasts, and also his primary principle for hunting evil gods in the future.

Ink Painting climbed up a tree, took in the entire small fishing village, then suppressed the doubts in his heart and began to close his eyes to nourish his spirit.

His divine sense also sank into his sea of consciousness, practicing arrays on the Dao tablet as always.

Jiang He Long had entered the fishing village, and the blood mist was hazy, covering his tracks.

But no matter what he did, he would definitely come out.

He just had to guard the village entrance and wouldn't worry about not waiting for him.

Ink Painting waited patiently.

But until dawn, the eastern sky was white, and the morning glow began to bloom, and within the small fishing village, there was no sign of Jiang He Long.

"Strange..."

Ink Painting muttered.

He carefully looked at the small fishing village again.

At this time, the sky gradually brightened, and the sunlight blooming from the clouds had already shone into the small fishing village through the mist and water of the wet air.

The fishing village was dilapidated and poor, but as the sky dawned and a new day came, vitality gradually emerged from the simple houses one by one.

Some cultivators were getting up, some fishing cultivators were mending nets, and some children were playing and crying.

Cooking smoke was also rising.

This was a poor but ordinary fishing village.

There was none of the strange aura of blood mist enveloping it last night.

Ink Painting did not rashly enter the village, still hiding his body, squatting on the big tree, watching the daily lives of the fishing cultivators in the small fishing village, watching for a long time, and involuntarily sighed.

The lives of fishing cultivators were truly quite hard.

Fishing cultivators were also rogue cultivators, and no matter where, the lives of rogue cultivators were always the same.

Just working hard and desperately living.

Except for living, they had no time to think about other things.

They couldn't even make a living, let alone seek immortality.

Ink Painting’s heart was slightly sour.

And inside this small fishing village, besides the ordinary fishing cultivators, there were no traces of other cultivators, including Jiang He Long who had changed his body and pretended to be a rough big man.

"Where exactly did Jiang He Long go?"

Ink Painting was perplexed.

And after waiting for half a day, still without discovering any trace, he found that it was already noon, and cooking smoke was rising again within the fishing village.

Most lower-level rogue cultivators were body cultivators, who had refined their bodies from a young age and grew up doing physical labor. Generally speaking, they wanted to eat a full meal at noon so they would have strength to make a living.

So lunch was more formal than morning.

Although the food wasn't good, the aroma floated up from each household, still very tempting.

Ink Painting touched his belly, feeling a bit hungry.

His eyes scanned the area, and suddenly he saw something, his eyes brightening as he spotted an acquaintance, exactly the elderly fishing cultivator he had helped draw an array for that day and who had wanted to invite him home as a guest.

This fishing cultivator was currently boiling fish soup at home, surrounded by a lively family of seven or eight people.

The greatest things in heaven and earth were eating.

He might as well ask some questions.

Ink Painting then jumped down from the tree, took advantage of the absence of people around, revealed his body, and openly walked towards the small fishing village.

Jiang He Long hadn't seen him.

He hadn't shown his face when he dragged him into the small woods and beat him that day, and although he had shown his head when he intercepted him halfway later, his face was covered.

So Jiang He Long didn't recognize him.

If he openly came to the small fishing village to freeload food and drinks, even if Jiang He Long saw him, it was unlikely that he would suspect that he, this small cultivator, was tracking him.

Ink Painting then walked into the small fishing village with a composed face and light footsteps.

He was not wearing the Tai Xu Gate's Daoist robe, only a simple set of common clothes, fair and handsome, with amiable eyebrows and eyes, swaggering into the fishing village, as if he had returned home casually.

The fishing cultivators along the road who saw him swaggering also didn't suspect anything.

Just because he was handsome and cute, they couldn't help but glance at him a few times.

Ink Painting thus, openly "mixed" into the village, and slowed down his footsteps when he reached the vicinity of the elderly fishing cultivator's home.

That elderly fishing cultivator was currently boiling fish soup, and after a while, he looked up and saw Ink Painting "just happening" to be passing by. First startled, then joyful, he busily greeted him warmly, saying:

"Little brother!"

Ink Painting pretended not to hear.

That fishing cultivator shouted again: "Little brother, it's me!"

Ink Painting then turned his head back, a surprised look on his face, and said: "Uncle?"

The fishing cultivator was full of smiles and greeted him, saying: "Come, come, I just boiled fish soup, it's fresh, come and taste it."

Ink Painting said shyly: "That's too impolite."

The fishing cultivator put on a stern face, "What's impolite, little brother you helped us out, should I not invite you to eat a fish?"

After he finished speaking, he immediately said to his family, young and old:

"This little brother is a disciple of a big sect, and a remarkable array master. The arrays on the fishing nets at home that day were all repaired by him..."

As soon as these words came out, his entire family, young and old, all looked at Ink Painting with respectful gazes.

These fishing cultivators, their origins were humble, their spiritual roots were also limited, and basically none of their children could enter big sects.

There wasn't even one who could become an array master.

Another person said: "Little brother, don't be polite, the fish soup will not be fresh if it cools down."

This person was the elderly cultivator's son, who had also seen Ink Painting that day.

Ink Painting smiled and squinted his eyes, saying: "Then I shall obey rather than decline!"

Thus, Ink Painting had a free meal in the small fishing village.

The fish soup was very fresh, although it was made simply and with few seasonings, it was freshly killed and freshly boiled, with its original flavor, and it tasted very good.

It just didn't contain much spiritual energy.

These were actually all the lowest grade of spirit fish, relatively cheap, and used by lower-level fishing cultivators to fill their stomachs.

And they were only fresh-tasting, not filling.

What fishing cultivators truly used to fill their stomachs was a kind of white-gray food, bitter and hard, but it could resist hunger.

Ink Painting only took a small bite and then stopped eating, because it didn't taste good.

But these fishing cultivators had to swallow this unpalatable stuff with the fish soup.

No matter how unpalatable it was, they had to eat it, otherwise they wouldn't have the strength to go to the river to catch fish.

Ink Painting sighed slightly in his heart.

After chatting, he learned that this large family was surnamed Yu, which was also considered the most common surname in this small fishing village.

That elderly fishing cultivator was called "Old Man Yu" by the locals and was at the early stage of Foundation Establishment.

His eldest son, called "Yu Da He", was at the middle stage of Foundation Establishment, and Ink Painting had also seen him before.

Yu Da He was married and had two sons. Three generations lived under one roof, and although the family was poor, they were doing their best to live their lives.

"Right, little brother," Old Man Yu suddenly said curiously, "How did you come to our village?"

Ink Painting was still drinking fish soup and found an excuse when he heard the words:

"I want to buy a few more nets. Last time, when I was fishing, I caught a big fish, but it damaged the net."

"That's easy." Old Man Yu didn't suspect anything when he heard the words. "Wait a while and I'll get a few for you. We make them ourselves. The material might be a bit poor, and the appearance a bit rough, but they are definitely durable."

Ink Painting smiled and said: "Thank you, Uncle Yu."

Then he was a bit doubtful, "Uncle, you have to make all your fishing nets yourselves?"

Old Man Yu shook his head and said: "There are some in the refining shops in the city, but they are too expensive, it's not worth spending that unfair spirit stones."

"It's just that the refining of these fishing nets is not complicated, so we make them ourselves."

Old Man Yu sighed and said: "We fishing cultivators are poor, there are many places to use spirit stones, every one saved is one..."

After he finished speaking, Old Man Yu said self-deprecatingly, "This old man is poor, little brother, don't mind."

Ink Painting shook his head, "When I was young, my home was also very poor, almost like yours."

Old Man Yu was startled, then just assumed Ink Painting was comforting them, and smiled kindly.

"Right," Ink Painting asked, "Uncle Yu, are there often cultivators from outside the village coming to your village?"

Old Man Yu didn't suspect anything, thought for a moment, and said:

"Not often..."

"Occasionally some come to collect fish, some come to ask prices, some houses are empty, and other cultivators also come to live for a while..."

"Houses are empty?" Ink Painting said doubtfully.

"Yes." Old Man Yu finished eating, and didn't know where he got it from, touched a roll of bitter tobacco, silently took a puff, his tone very casual:

"People die, and houses become empty."

Ink Painting’s gaze sank slightly.

Old Man Yu smacked his lips and shook his head, saying:

"Doing this line of fishing cultivators is not a good livelihood to begin with. People will die when the waves are big, and people will die when the waves are not big."

"Last year, there was a family, father and three sons, who brave the strong winds and waves to catch fish in the Yan Water River, but unexpectedly, a big wave hit, the boat capsized, and all father and three sons sank to the bottom of the river, eaten by water demons..."

"Their house also became empty..."

"This kind of thing happens a few times every year. Some old fishing cultivators are alive and well themselves, but their children and grandchildren are all dead; some couples just get married, and the husband is pulled into a vortex and drowns, leaving the wife a widow; there are also continuous several months of strong winds and waves, making it impossible to fish, and they starve at home; some fishing cultivators feel too bitter, truly unable to live, and the whole family moves out to seek other livelihoods, and now they don't know whether they are dead or alive..."

"Thus, some houses become empty every year..."

Old Man Yu took a puff, his emotions without fluctuation, obviously already somewhat numb.

"Then people will die even if the waves are not big?" Ink Painting asked again.

Old Man Yu coughed softly, sighed, "When the waves are not big, the fishing cultivators raise and catch many fish, and when there are many fish, the price is naturally low. It doesn't add up to earning more than when the waves are big..."

"Still just as poor."

"And the families operating dining halls above will come to suppress the price. The price they give is extremely low. If you agree, it's fine. If you don't, you will inevitably be beaten."

"If you're unlucky, you'll be beaten to death directly, and the other side won't even admit it."

"This is all selling fish well. Sometimes when they are desperately poor, they even sell their children..."

Ink Painting frowned, "Doesn't the Dao Court Office manage this?"

Old Man Yu shook his head, his face with some bitterness:

"Little brother, you don't understand. We kind of cultivators who don't live in immortal cities, scattered outside, don't have a 'cultivator register'."

"For cultivators without a register, the Dao Court Office's management is very loose. If a few go missing or die, no one will know."

"Even if..."

Old Man Yu’s gaze was somewhat indifferent, "Even if the entire village is dead, the Dao Court Office might only know several months later..."

Ink Painting’s heart went cold, and he hurriedly asked:

"Has such a thing happened before?"

Old Man Yu was startled, "What thing?"

Ink Painting said in a low voice: "The entire fishing village is dead..."

Old Man Yu smiled awkwardly, "I just said that. You child, don't take it seriously..."

"Oh."

Ink Painting breathed a sigh of relief.

But subsequently, Ink Painting was a bit doubtful, "Spirit fish... should be quite expensive, right? Why are fishing cultivators still so poor?"

Ink Painting remembered that before in Qingzhou City, Master Gu invited him to eat in the Immortal Crane Pavilion, and a plate of spirit fish was worth quite a few spirit stones.

Old Man Yu waved his hand and said: "Those are sold by the nearby families. A spirit fish sent into a dining hall can earn ten spirit stones, or even over a hundred spirit stones."

"But here, a tail of first-grade spirit fish only earns one-tenth of a spirit stone, and a tail of second-grade spirit fish earns one spirit stone at most..."

Old Man Yu sighed.

"Can't you go and sell them yourselves?"

Old Man Yu shook his head, "It's not that simple. One or two is fine, but hundreds or thousands, if not sold early, will rot in your hands..."

"And in this vicinity, several large and small families have already jointly discussed what price it will be in what year, and it's all decided by them."

"How can we decide?"

"Once we think of some other way and want to earn more spirit stones, we will be secretly retaliated against..."

After Old Man Yu finished speaking, he looked at Ink Painting and said earnestly:

"So little brother, you must cultivate well in the sect. In the future, when your cultivation is high, no one will dare to bully you."

Ink Painting looked at Old Man Yu, his mood a bit complex.

Cultivators with high cultivation levels would not be bullied, but naturally, they would think of bullying others.

It was precisely people like them who would be bullied...

After the two of them chatted for a while longer, noon passed, and the fishing cultivators wanted to go back to work.

Yu Da He went down to the river, and Old Man Yu seemed to have some matters in the afternoon, so he stayed.

Ink Painting anyway wanted to wait for Jiang He Long in the fishing village, so he simply didn't leave, but sat in the courtyard and chatted idly with Old Man Yu.

Old Man Yu had lived a lifetime and seen quite a few ups and downs.

"Life is a bit bitter now, but it's not bad either, at least the whole family is together, and there's still a mouth of rice to eat..."

"If it were before, the Yan Water River would have floods, and everyday would be violent storms, that was truly not a life for humans..."

"Oh, oh." Ink Painting listened seriously.

As they were chatting, a team of cultivators suddenly walked over from a distance.

The person in front was middle-aged, dressed decently, probably at the early stage of Foundation Establishment cultivation, with his head held high as he walked, looking like a family cultivator.

Following behind him were six people, one at the early stage of Foundation Establishment and five at the ninth layer of Qi Refining, a considerable force.

This cultivator walked straight into Old Man Yu's house.

Old Man Yu saw the situation, immediately put on a fawning smile, welcomed him, his body bowed even lower, "Manager Wang, it's trouble for you."

That family cultivator called Manager Wang, with his hands behind his back, held his head up, seemingly disdaining to speak with Old Man Yu.

A person beside him said: "Fish?"

Old Man Yu nodded, "Here, here."

He returned to the house, bent down and carried out a rough hemp woven fish basket, and fished out from inside a carp about the length of a small arm, golden in color, flipping with shimmering gloss, its scales like lotus flowers.

Manager Wang looked at it and nodded with satisfaction.

Then someone beside him laughed and said: "Old Man Yu, not bad, ah, at such an old age, you can still catch this tail of 'Golden Lotus Flower Three-Color Carp'..."

Old Man Yu’s face was full of wrinkles as he smiled, "Luck was good, risked my old life, braved the strong winds and waves, then I caught such a tail."

Manager Wang also nodded and said: "Not bad, with this tail of fish, the young master's banquet for the family and fellow disciples tonight will not lose face."

The subordinate of the Wang family then took the fish basket from Old Man Yu’s hands and walked out carrying it.

Old Man Yu reluctantly looked at this fish, a precious three-color carp that he had exchanged with his life, feeling somewhat reluctant in his heart.

Manager Wang turned to leave, and the others followed.

Old Man Yu’s expression changed slightly, but he still put on a smile and said humbly: "Manager Wang, the spirit stones..."

Manager Wang frowned.

A disciple of the Wang family behind him then said: "Three days later, you go to the Wang family to get them."

"But..."

"What 'but'? My Wang family is a dignified third-grade family, can't we afford your spirit stones?"

Old Man Yu gritted his teeth, "Eight thousand spirit stones, ah, it's not a small number, I..."

Manager Wang ignored him and walked straight out.

Old Man Yu hardened his heart and blocked in front of Manager Wang, but he didn't dare to be angry, still fawning with a smile, "Manager, you are doing a good deed..."

"I really need these spirit stones urgently."

"Those two little grandsons of mine, I want to send them into a sect, let them cultivate properly, and in the future, they won't have to live the bitter life I live."

"This is why I risked my life to go for this one..."

"These eight thousand spirit stones, truly cannot be delayed..."

Manager Wang’s face sank, and he said contemptuously: "A mere eight thousand spirit stones, my Wang family won't be able to afford them?"

"Afford, afford." Old Man Yu said.

"Three days later, you go to the Wang family to get them yourselves."

They still repeated this sentence.

Old Man Yu, however, walked to the front, holding the fish basket tightly, as if holding his own life, and shook his head, saying:

"Give me the spirit stones, and I will give you the fish."

Manager Wang frowned, a little impatient.

"Damn, you don't know what's good for you!" A big man behind Manager Wang rushed forward and slapped Old Man Yu across the face.

Old Man Yu didn't dare to resist, a five-finger blood mark was fanned onto his face, and there was blood at the corner of his mouth, but he didn't care, just hugged the fish basket, unwilling to let go.

His face was already expressionless, only numb.

Only a trace of light remained at the bottom of his eyes, as if this fish basket was the only hope he had lived for in this lifetime.

Manager Wang spat, "Damn, old thing, it's not that I won't give you spirit stones, just being stingy..."

He turned his head and instructed: "Take the fish away. If he blocks with his hand, then chop off his hand. If he blocks with his body, then chop off his body. Don't delay the young master's banquet..."

That Wang family disciple immediately drew his knife.

Ink Painting’s gaze turned cold, very angry, just wanting to throw the bowl in his hand, but he paused for a moment before throwing it.

The bowl in his hand was intact.

He then re-selected a chipped bowl and threw it towards the ground!

"Bang!"

Manager Wang and the others were all startled, turned their heads back, and only then discovered that there was still a small cultivator in the courtyard.

Ink Painting, however, slowly stood up, held his head high, and put on a face of arrogance, looking very arrogant.

"Where did a group of small punks come from, daring to rob this young master's fish?"

Manager Wang’s face reddened with anger, but seeing that although Ink Painting was dressed simply, his demeanor was extraordinary, especially his arrogant and overbearing appearance, he wasn't a true fop, he definitely hadn't learned it, so he cupped his hand and said:

"I don't know, Your Excellency, which family's young master you are?"

Ink Painting thought for a moment, and said righteously:

"Gu family!"

Manager Wang’s gaze sharpened slightly, and he asked: "Which Gu family?"

Ink Painting snorted coldly, "Short-sighted, are there still several Gu families in Qianzhou?"

Manager Wang said cautiously: "Qingzhou City Gu family?"

Ink Painting nodded, "Consider you, this idiot, as still having a bit of insight."

Manager Wang, however, suddenly sneered, "Lie more plausibly. You say Qingzhou City Gu family, and you just claim to be the Qingzhou City Gu family?"

"Which family's young masters don't have followers before and after them? Where do you get one like you, who goes out alone?"

Ink Painting said contemptuously: "Does this young master need to explain how he acts to you?"

Manager Wang’s gaze sank.

Ink Painting didn't waste any more words with him, pointed at him very rudely, and instructed: "All of you, leave the fish, and get out!"

He remembered, arrogant family young masters were all like this.

Bullying with power, no need to explain.

Manager Wang was a bit uncertain.

The origin of this little ghost was unclear, and logically speaking, it was best not to act rashly.

But if he didn't take the fish back, how could he account to the young master?

Manager Wang suddenly had a plan in his heart, and cupped his hand, saying:

"Dare to ask the young master to inform me of his great name, so that I can account for giving this fish to the young master."

Ink Painting felt it was reasonable, so he said:

"I am called Gu..."

But the words reached his mouth, and he paused for a moment.

How was the Gu family ranked by generation?

Using the "Long" character generation, wasn't he in the same generation as Uncle Gu? Later, would he have to call Uncle Gu "Brother Gu"?

Besides the "Long" character generation, what other generations were there?

Ink Painting was a bit doubtful.

But in this brief moment of doubt, Manager Wang immediately judged that Ink Painting was lying, that he wasn't surnamed Gu at all, and wasn't necessarily a family young master.

"This little liar! Bold! Take him down for me!"

Manager Wang said sternly.

Several cultivators of the Wang family heard the words, their faces showed fierceness, and they rushed towards Ink Painting to attack and kill him.

Ink Painting sighed.

He was still a bit inexperienced at playing the arrogant and overbearing family young master. When did fops come up and just reason?

They just took action directly...

Ink Painting reflected a bit in his heart, then pointed his finger, and the Fireball Technique was instantly unleashed, directly blowing away a cultivator at the ninth layer of Qi Refining.

Manager Wang’s gaze sank.

This little ghost... is actually a Foundation Establishment cultivator?

No wonder he couldn't see through his details.

Subsequently, he then said sternly: "Be careful!"

Foundation Establishment was just Foundation Establishment. Could a little Foundation Establishment kid beat their group of family cultivators?

But it wasn't long before his expression changed drastically.

Ink Painting stood in place without moving, pointing his fingers frequently, techniques one after another. First, he simply disabled those several Qi Refining disciples, then Golden Blade, Water Prison, Fireball, Quicksand, Water Arrow, and other techniques were all unleashed.

Another Foundation Establishment early stage of the Wang family was defeated in just one face-to-face encounter, bombarded by Ink Painting's techniques and falling down in a sorry state.

What fierce techniques!

He was a spirit cultivator!

Manager Wang’s pupils shrank, and he was about to rush forward to restrain Ink Painting, this spirit cultivator, in close combat, but when he looked around, he found that he was firmly fixed in place.

Ink Painting’s gaze was ice cold, and he pointed at him from a distance.

Layers upon layers of techniques surged towards him.

Manager Wang’s scalp was numb, and it wasn't long before he also fell down logically.

Thus, several cultivators of the Wang family were defeated by Ink Painting's techniques, as if cutting melons and chopping vegetables.

Ink Painting nodded.

He was now a proper disciple of a big sect, learning the Dao lineage of the Tai Xu Gate, and also integrating techniques from various criminals, combining the techniques of a hundred schools.

His inheritance was fundamentally not on the same level as these small family cultivators who bullied others with power.

Beside him, Old Man Yu, who had just come back to his senses at this time, looked at the Wang family cultivators lying horizontally and vertically around him, and couldn't help but stare blankly.

He never expected that the little kid who had just come to his house to freeload a meal would have such fierce techniques.

So many Wang family cultivators were all heavily injured and fell down in just a moment, and couldn't even make Ink Painting move a step.

(The chapter ends)