Chapter 42: Unboxing Time
The merchant lit a lantern when dusk fell, hanging it from a hook near his seat, and the oil flame cast long flickering shadows that made the trees look like they were leaning in to listen.
But they never stopped.
Amidst hissing night snakes and screaming owls, the carriage delved deep into the forest. Daylight soon left without a hint, and everything became nightly silent.
If the roads weren’t so well lit by the full moon, the carriage owner would not have dared to drive this deep into the night.
The cart rocked beneath Kian and party, ox plodding its steady rhythm, and for a long moment nobody spoke.
Jia had fallen asleep with her head in Mia’s lap, and Jiao Yin sat cross-legged beside the bedsheets, her eyes closed in sleep.
Feimei had also moved from Kian’s side; her head resting against a bunch of merchandise, her breathing slow, her red eyes half-lidded and distant.
When they actually entered the forest, the surroundings went dark enough that even the lantern seemed to struggle, its light pressing only a few feet into the black between the trees.
Yawning in boredom, Kian reached for the leather sack. It was time to check what treasures Hua Shulong had hoarded.
The drawstring came loose with a soft hiss, and he upended the contents onto the cart’s wooden floor.
Coins spilled out in a glittering avalanche, low-grade spirit stones that caught the lantern light and threw it back in pale blue-white glints.
He counted them with the rapid efficiency of a man who’d done this before, separating them into stacks of a hundred while the cart creaked and swayed, and the final tally sat cold and heavy in his mind: twenty-five thousand, six hundred and seventy-nine.
Then, from the bottom of the scattered pile, two stones rolled free that did not glitter pale at all—they glowed a deeper, richer blue, dense with Qi that Kian could taste on the back of his tongue without even trying.
Mid-grade spirit stones. He scooped them up, looking at them intently.
’So these were indeed available outside as well. I didn’t make anything new.’
Jiao Yin turned from the side, eyes widening, and Kian heard Jia stir awake with a groggy mumble.
Underneath the coins, pressed flat against the leather lining, were three more things.
Kian grabbed the thing that seemed most interesting.
A map, drawn on something that felt like human skin but was too thin and supple, marked with a location in the eastern wastes circled in dried blood.
’What’s this?’ he thought.
Dragon Horn Island, hidden within mist.
The map unfolded across his palms, and the lantern light traced ridges like veins beneath the surface.
Dragon Horn Island was drawn as a crooked crescent, its northern tip jagged as a broken tooth, and the blood circle sat right at the center where the landmass pinched thin.
Beneath it, someone had scratched three characters so small that Kian had to hold the map to his face to read them: *Blood Demon Origin*.
There was nothing more in the map.
Curious, Kian put it to the side for now.
Then, he turned to look at the next interesting product.
A booklet no thicker than his palm, its cover blank except for a single character—"Art of Blood Beasts"—and its pages crammed with handwriting that grew more erratic as it went.
"That thing’s a major treasure," said the spirit’s voice from the jade. "It was one of the things that made Hua Shulong worthy of my notice."
"What’s this?"
Kian flipped through the pages.
"Remember how Hua Shulong took over the body of his subordinate to talk with you? In the restaurant."
Kian’s eyes lit up. "I indeed remember."
"He used this Art of the Blood Beasts to do it. It’s a really unique skill. Hua Shulong wouldn’t have been able to learn it if he weren’t of the Blood Demon descent."
"Blood Demon descent?"
"The entire Hua Family is of blood demon descent. It’s a powerful bloodline lineage of ancient times. Why do you think they have the blood demon eyes? Though only the mother’s blood seem to be pure enough."
Kian nodded in thought. "So, can I train this?"
"I don’t think so. This art requires you to be of Blood Demon Descent. But it’s okay. You might not be able to learn it, but those women should be able to."
Kian frowned.
Then, for now, he put the booklet aside as well and focused on the next thing.
The next thing of notice were three vials of dark glass, stoppered with wax, each containing a liquid that shifted colors as Kian tilted them in the lantern light.
Hua Mia leaned forward, her beauty mark shadowed, and whispered, "What are those?"
Feimei plucked one vial from his palm and held it to the moonlight, her Blood Demon Eyes flaring faintly.
"Black Vein Lotus concentrate," she said, and her voice was flat, clinical, as if she were reciting a recipe. "This alone could kill a village. Boil it in a closed room and the steam will liquify the lungs of anyone below Qi Building Stage Two."
She handed it back to Kian and picked up the booklet instead, flipping through pages with a frown that deepened with every turn. "This was one of our ancestral treasures. I gave it to him. I myself was never able to practice it, but his talents in this art was really too good."
Kian, on the other hand, was more interested in something else: "I am really interested in this map. The funny thing is, this doesn’t seem that far from the Hugan Sect."
He spread the map across his knee, tracing the blood-circle with one finger.
"It’s actually not a map," the Spirit said. "It’s a Gateway. This is why Hua Shulong wanted to kill his mother. Only a person with the Blood Demon Eye could enter this map’s gateway."
"Gateway?"
Feimei nodded. "I can see a door-like presence summoning me towards it. I feel like I could enter that map."
The ox lowed into the darkness ahead, and the merchant called back that the city gates would be visible by dawn, his voice filled with lazy calm.
Kian folded the map, pocketed the vials, and started packing the coins again.
Feimei leaned back and closed her eyes.