Chapter 134: Death for Wealth

Medicinal herbs naturally need to be cultivated in order to maintain their optimal potency for use. As for the corpse aura, there was no need to worry about it for the time being; even here, it was likely that the aura had already been nearly depleted, so planting them within the Nine-Star Space made no difference.

Before long, Lin Zhan had gathered all the ghost flowers, a truly bountiful harvest.

At present, Lin Zhan had not yet begun refining pills or the like, but whenever he encountered anything that could be called valuable—regardless of its utility—his first thought was to store it in his space. This was the only way to cut off the persistent obsession gnawing at his mind.

Back in the dormitory, the second-best student—known for his prowess with dating—once shared a phrase he considered a classic: “Whether treasure or beauty, either possess it or destroy it. Only then can one stop worrying and longing endlessly.”

In other words, a beautiful thing or person often causes endless longing and heartache. There are only two ways to sever this yearning: either acquire it or destroy it if acquisition is impossible.

At the time, Lin Zhan had felt ashamed of this outlook. But now, immersed in the cultivation world where every resource and material was precious, the more he owned, the stronger he became—and the weaker his competitors. This was a matter of life and death.

Thus, Lin Zhan now regarded that saying from his former classmate as a profound truth.

Inside the white Bone Tower, Gu Yuanzhou and Teng Sheng had just awakened, only to be startled by a black-faced lantern figure. Both shouted simultaneously, “Who are you? What on earth are you?”

All three were bound by the tower’s restrictions, unable to move freely—only able to shift within a space barely over three meters wide.

The black-faced lantern creature, frightened by their outburst, dispersed briefly before reassembling. “Damn, you scared me to death! There are still living people here? Did you offend that big dumb black guy outside too?”

Gu Yuanzhou and Teng Sheng scratched their heads for a long while before realizing that the “big dumb black guy” referred to none other than Lin Zhan.

“Big dumb black guy?” The nickname was oddly fitting, vividly descriptive.

“Flame Peak’s Gu Yuanzhou!” one declared.

“Teng Sheng!” the other introduced himself.

“Uh, I—I don’t have a name yet!” the lantern black face stammered.

Through this exchange, the three found some common ground in their shared plight.

“Hey, Black Face brother, since you’re a sword spirit, why don’t you stay in your sword instead of wandering around like this?” Gu Yuanzhou asked curiously.

Despite having no body below the neck, the lantern-eyed black face was indeed a sword spirit.

What was a sword spirit? It was a consciousness born only within a spiritual-grade weapon. Once a sword spirit formed, the weapon could potentially evolve into a higher-tier divine artifact, perhaps even a peerless legendary weapon.

If the sword spirit left its sword, it meant the sword no longer existed.

Moreover, a sword spirit without its weapon was like a restless ghost—a rootless stream destined to dry up and vanish.

No wonder the black-faced figure looked so haggard and despondent.

“Sigh, it’s a past too painful to recall. I once followed my master across battlefields, feared and revered by all. Then one day, time itself distorted and compressed over several years. The world erupted in the most brutal and savage war. The sword broke. My master perished and faded from existence. Since then, I’ve been homeless. For a long time, I pondered if immortality even exists. If it does, why did my master abandon me? Boo hoo,” the black-faced sword spirit lamented.

“Hey, stop crying! Your voice is too beautiful when you sob. People can’t come back to life. Why don’t you find another sword and become a sword spirit again?” Teng Sheng covered his ears and suggested.

“You’re utterly ignorant! When have you ever heard of a dignified sword spirit switching swords and settling down anew?” The black face nearly exploded with anger. Its dark shadow swelled and distorted. If it had a beard and body, it would be the image of a robust, bearded warrior.

“Then why aren’t you dead?” Teng Sheng pressed.

This finally triggered the sword spirit’s fury. “Get lost! You’re the one who’s dead! If not for my master’s last act before his form vanished—a clone imprint that replenished my strength—I wouldn’t have survived the shattered sword’s remains till now. Sigh, it’s a long, complicated story.” The black-faced sword spirit sighed deeply, its expression heavy with sorrow.

Its facial expressions were remarkably vivid.

Gu Yuanzhou’s expression was equally interesting as he smiled, “So, Black Face sword spirit brother, you’re not from here either? Also brought in by that big dumb black guy outside?”

The sword spirit’s large lantern eyes rolled, eyelids drooping, mumbling, “Why do you think I’d willingly stay in this dark, desolate place? That big dumb black guy… when I get out, just you wait!”

With a flash, Gu Yuanzhou and Teng Sheng vanished from the tower.

“Damn, they’re gone already. Now there’s no one left to talk to. Heh heh, I’ll study the tower’s structure and formation. That big dumb black guy must think I can’t leave here. If he really thinks so, he’s dead wrong. Ha ha ha!”

In the cramped, dark space, the black-faced lantern began a lively display of activity.

Outside the white Bone Tower, Gu Yuanzhou and Teng Sheng sat heavily on the ground before Lin Zhan.

For a moment, they had not yet adjusted their internal spiritual energy after emerging from the tower. There was a brief refractory period. Of course, if Lin Zhan wanted to deal with them, he could have done so inside the tower without releasing them first.

Upon exiting, the two immediately sought out the ghost flowers but found none, which only deepened their resentment toward Lin Zhan.

“Lin Zhan, you really took all the ghost flowers for yourself!” Gu Yuanzhou and Teng Sheng’s faces twisted with strange expressions, tinged with a hint of hatred, as if Lin Zhan had deprived them of their right to treasure.

Lin Zhan nonchalantly tossed a withered ghost flower—one that had died in the process of growth—onto the ground before them.

“I told you the ghost flower carries an incurable poison that kills on contact. You didn’t believe me. Now, try it if you dare!”

Gu Yuanzhou and Teng Sheng exchanged glances, torn between the temptation to test it and the fear that Lin Zhan might be right, their faces contorted in distress.

Gu Yuanzhou acted first, pulling out all the items he carried—various pills, and a myriad of other things.

Teng Sheng understood immediately and did the same.

In an instant, the ground by the ice spirit flower was covered with their possessions.

“This won’t work; it only cures known poisons. These Cambe gloves won’t provide enough protection. Do you have any protective gear on your side?”

“About the same as you. How about we test it anyway?”

While conversing, they occasionally glanced at Lin Zhan out of the corner of their eyes, wary of any special moves.

Seeing their sly behavior, Lin Zhan sighed deeply in his heart: “Men die for wealth, birds perish for food.”