Chapter 422 — A Pack of Old Coots
The Herdsman of the Wasteland · Page 1 of 4
"Shen'er, you are not to go this time, when we move to block the High Heavens," Granny Zhu said in a low voice.
Shen Mu was hastening the refining of spirit pills to feed the flood dragons—he would be traveling far this time and needed a good stock of them. Hearing this, he paused, then smiled: "Granny, it was I who invited them. How could I not go? " Granny Zhu shook her head.
"You are only at the Six Harmonies realm. If you don't go, no one will talk. In this battle, the High Heavens will likely turn out in full force—there are not only the Four Lords of the High Heavens up there, but other gods as well. . .
If we are defeated, you go back to the Wilderness Ruins, and don't come out again for the rest of your life. " Shen Mu's face fell.
He was about to speak when the village chief's voice suddenly came from afar: "Old woman Si, leave him be. Let him come along!
" Granny Zhu caught sight of the village chief laughing and chatting merrily with a crowd of old men and women, and her anger flared.
"Shen'er's cultivation is still low. It's useless for him to go!
" "How is it useless?
" The village chief looked back and grinned.
"Someone has to go and collect the corpses, don't they, Granny? " Granny Zhu was briefly at a loss, and said no more. Someone had to collect the corpses—whether of enemies or of their own. From afar came the ha-ha laughter of a crowd of old men and women.
The village chief was talking freely with his old friends, and Tuxing Feng was recounting their embarrassing escapades of years past, setting them all roaring, until the old men and women were flushed red with mirth. There were so many stories between them, so many brushes with death in those years, so many battles fought shoulder to shoulder—there was always much worth remembering. But after the village chief was crippled, his great ambition had withered. He became an old cripple in the Village of Hidden Wrecks, one whom neither thunder nor rain could drive away. The Human Sovereign vanished from the world, and his old comrades lost heart as well, no longer appearing among men, no longer visiting one another. And now the village chief had returned, and they had come at his invitation. Though they were old, the reunion of old friends seemed to carry them back to those years of burning passion.
Shen Mu watched them. These happy old folk each had their own temperament; some were not cheerful men by nature—the Hermit of Qingyou, for instance, looked at everyone as though they owed him money—yet now their faces were wreathed in smiles. Each of them held a position of immense eminence.
Some were chieftains of subterranean races, some lofty immortals, some great monsters who received the worship of mortals in temples, and some who carried their people on their backs, roaming the seas in perfect freedom. People who could not be more unrelated had been drawn together by a single Seal of the Human Sovereign. The village chief was radiant with vigor. "Let the blood in your hearts burn!
Let us relive the years gone by, and together go and turn the world upside down! " The Hermit of Qingyou laughed until tears streamed down his face. "Burn, my ass! Your lifespan runs out next year, doesn't it?
Can you still burn?
" "Do immortals of the Little Jade Capital talk dirty too? Go on, try cursing inside the Little Jade Capital if you dare!
Qingyou, you don't have many years left to burn either—soon you'll be finished, same as me! " The pack of old fellows roared with laughter, stamping their feet.
Immortal Liu laughed until his eyes were slits, and gasping for breath he said, "Remember the old days? The moment a fight was mentioned, little Qingzi ran the fastest—not running to fight, but running to hide! " "You weren't any better than me.