A faint cry was startlingly clear in the quiet mountain hollow.

Song Changsheng’s heart skipped a beat, and he hurried toward the sound. Before a haystack, he saw the bodies of a man and a woman, kneeling on the ground in an embrace.

They held each other silently, their faces filled with terror.

They were a young couple, barely in their early twenties. Two small bundles lay scattered beside them, stuffed with soft valuables and two golden, griddled flatbreads.

It seemed they had planned to escape this mortal Purgatory when the catastrophe struck. But the changes happening to their bodies drove them to despair, and the couple ultimately died in each other’s arms.

The baby’s cries were coming from between them, incredibly faint.

He reached out and separated the two, revealing a swaddled infant. The little one’s eyes were shut tight, his pair of soft, pale hands grasping at the air as he let out weak sobs.

"This child actually wasn’t implanted with a Poisonous Insect?"

Song Changsheng carefully picked him up, momentarily at a loss. In two lifetimes, he’d never had any experience with children.

After staring blankly for a moment, he reached out and gently wiped the bloodstains from the baby’s small face, his heart filled with pity.

The child looked to be just a month old.

He should have had a happy family, but now, everything was like an illusion, a fleeting bubble.

Of the tens of thousands in his entire clan, he was likely the only one left.

Seeing him couldn’t help but remind Song Changsheng of his own past life.

But back then, he’d had a grandfather who, despite being scruffy, had doted on him. This child... he truly had no one to rely on.

Song Changsheng examined him thoroughly but found no signs of injury, nor any trace of a Poisonous Insect.

It was likely because the child had just been born. Feng Wuming hadn’t had time to implant a Poisonous Insect in him yet, allowing this new Life to escape disaster.

Fortunate, and yet unfortunate.

"Elder Song, the little one must be starving," Wum Yan promptly reminded him from the side.

"This..."

Song Changsheng was instantly in a bind. ’We’re two grown men; we don’t exactly have the right parts.’

He had plenty of Spiritual Liquid on him, but the baby’s tiny body couldn’t handle it. Even the smallest drop would be enough to make him explode and die.

"You continue collecting the bodies. Be sure to keep an eye out for any other survivors. I’ll take this little one to find something to eat." With that, he carried the child into the dense forest...

Watching Song Changsheng awkwardly carry the baby away, Wum Yan was suddenly filled with emotion. ’This Elder Song is truly different from the rest.’

From the very beginning, he had noticed many things about Song Changsheng that set him apart from others.

Despite being a high and mighty Foundation Establishment Cultivator, he showed not a shred of contempt for low-status Qi Refining Independent Cultivators like them, even addressing them as "Fellow Daoist."

He had even taken the initiative to save the lives of his dozen or so brothers. Who else would care about the life or death of a few Loose Cultivators? It would be a mercy if they didn’t send them to an early grave themselves.

Not only that, but he grew angry upon seeing mortals being slaughtered and felt pity when he found the surviving infant.

One had to understand that in this world, even among the Righteous Cultivators who constantly preached "justice," very, very few could do the same.

In the eyes of most Cultivators, the lives of mortals were no more precious than roadside weeds.

If not for the explicit decrees from the major Holy Lands forbidding the slaughter of mortals, those so-called "Righteous Cultivators" might not be much better than the Evil Demons of the crooked paths.

In comparison, Song Changsheng’s actions were practically saintly, filling Wum Yan’s heart with admiration.

He admitted to himself that he could never be like Song Changsheng. Faced with a field of corpses like this, the most he would do is set a fire to prevent them from being left exposed in the wilderness.

’To think there are people who call Elder Song a ruthless, bloodthirsty madman who kills without batting an eye. How utterly ridiculous. I should really dig their eyes out and make them take a good look,’ Wum Yan thought viciously.

Looking down at the two bodies that were gradually stiffening, Wum Yan shook his head and said softly, "You can rest in peace, having met an expert like Elder Song."

With that, he manifested a large, ethereal hand to lift the two, intending to place them with the other bodies.

CLINK

Just as the woman’s body was lifted off the ground, a round Auspicious Cloud Jade Pendant slipped from her collar and fell to the ground with a crisp sound.

Wum Yan drew it into his hand with his power. He saw a single character carved on the back. It was an ancient script; as a self-taught cultivator, he had only heard of it but couldn’t read it.

’It’s just ordinary white jade, but it’ll make a good memento.’ Wum Yan casually placed it in his Storage Bag and then continued gathering the corpses...

To get something for the little one to eat, Song Changsheng had no choice but to become a master milker. Under the resentful and fearful gaze of a mother leopard, he sauntered off with a small jar of beast milk.

After drinking the beast milk, the little one’s condition improved noticeably. He wasn’t crying or fussing anymore. He just stared at Song Changsheng with wide, watery eyes full of curiosity.

And then... he peed all over Song Changsheng.

By the time he had frantically cleaned himself up and returned to the mountain hollow, the last rays of the setting sun had been swallowed by the darkness.

Wum Yan had worked diligently, gathering all the bodies together and digging a large pit to bury them.

There were too many to bury individually; it was simply unrealistic. This was the best final resting place the Ling Clan could have.