He Yuzhu returns in Siheyuan

Chapter 864 Sending People Again

Outside the forest, Wang Ran stared at the several corpses neatly thrown out on the ground, his face ashen, like poisoned iron, his knuckles white from clenching his fists. He had sent in his carefully selected elites, each equipped with illusion-dispelling talismans and antidotes; they were more than capable of taking on ten monsters, if not ten, and more than enough to deal with ordinary demons. He never expected them to be completely wiped out, without even sending a single communication talisman.

This wasn't even the most infuriating part—in the past, when encountering humans who trespassed into their territory, these demons would always devour them alive, leaving not even a bone fragment, to demonstrate their ferocity. But this time, the other party had neatly stacked the corpses at the edge of the forest, the wounds as smooth as mirrors, clearly intentional, as if silently demonstrating: "I killed your people, what can you do about it?" This was blatant provocation, rubbing his face into the ground!

Wang Ran glanced at the silent old man beside him. The man was twirling prayer beads between his fingers, not even lifting his eyelids, yet the subtle yet palpable pressure emanating from him sent chills down Wang Ran's spine. He suppressed his anger and sternly ordered his men behind him, "Send two more teams in! I refuse to believe it. Even if we have to dig three feet into the ground, we have to find those two dragons for me!"

The men turned pale, glancing at each other, none daring to speak. One of them, a scarred man, mustered his courage and spoke, his voice trembling: "Sir, that's the Misty Forest! The miasma inside is so strong it'll make you rot, and the illusions can corrupt your mind. None of the senior brothers who went in a few years ago came out alive... If we go in... I'm afraid we won't come back."

Wang Ran knew perfectly well that these words were true. But the thought of the methods those people above used—skinning and dismembering, annihilating the soul—sent a cold sweat down his back. If he couldn't find the dragon and delayed "that important matter," his fate would be a hundred times worse than dying in the forest. Even if it meant taking lives, he absolutely couldn't anger those above.

He took a deep breath, softened his tone, and threw out the bait he had prepared beforehand: "Everyone, perk up! If we succeed this time, in addition to the original thousand taels of silver reward, I'll give each of you a dragon scale!" Seeing the slight movement in everyone's eyes, he increased the stakes, "Those are real dragon scales, capable of repelling water and fire, and ordinary magical weapons can't harm you at all! If we can capture the dragon prince and princess alive, you'll also get your share of daggers forged from dragon blood and bracers woven from dragon tendons!"

A great reward always brings forth brave men. The saying "fortune favors the bold" flashed through their minds, and some men's eyes immediately turned red. In no time, two teams of thirty men each were assembled, each with a fierce determination on their face. They stuffed an antidote into their mouths, gripped the magical weapons at their waists—some were magic swords engraved with runes, others were Qiankun bags filled with talismans—and staggered toward the misty forest that devoured lives. Their figures were quickly swallowed up by the thick, inky miasma.

Deep within the cave, on the jade bed, Long Jiao curled up, the cracks on her blue scales, inflicted by sword energy the day before, now gleaming faintly with golden light. Long Tian lay beside her, his golden tail occasionally brushing the ground, creating shimmering halos—the most precious calming grass in the cave, ground into powder and mixed with thousand-year-old jade marrow, was slowly seeping into her skin along the lines of her scales, repairing her damaged meridians.

"Young Master, would you like to try this?" A gray fox approached, holding a bright red fruit, its tail wagging like a blooming flower. "This is a blood maple fruit from the thousand-year-old maple tree on the back mountain. It can replenish your qi and blood."

The pangolin next to him crunched a piece of spirit stone with a "crack" and pushed the purest crystal core over: "Young Master, grind this into powder and apply it to your wounds, it will heal faster!"

Inside the cave, the lesser demons were bustling about. The rabbit spirit squatted at the entrance, neatly tidying up the pebbles with its paws; the snake woman coiled around a stone pillar, flicking her tongue to probe the outside; even the laziest tree spirit moved its roots, carrying morning dew-laden spiritual herbs to the jade bed. Everyone knew this was a huge piece of meat for the young dragon lord—the old tortoise had told them that the dragon palace was built in the deep sea, its floors paved with warm jade, and even a single fallen piece of dragon's saliva would be enough for them to cultivate in this desolate wilderness for a hundred years. If they could win the young lord's favor, they'd have no trouble finding resources when they returned to the dragon clan.

Long Jiao opened her eyes, the scent of medicine and fruit filling her nostrils. She gently nuzzled Long Tian's neck, her voice still weak: "Brother, they're so noisy."

Long Tian shook his head, his golden dragon horns sparking as they scraped against the stone wall. "Ignore them. Once we're healed, we'll go find that Crimson guy and join him." He didn't care about the little demons' flattery, but with his injuries still not healed, it was always good to have a few more eyes on watch.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the secret forest, the human cultivators were struggling to move forward.

The branches and leaves of the towering ancient trees spread out like giant umbrellas, shrouding the sky in darkness. Only scattered rays of sunlight pierced through the gaps in the leaves, casting dappled patterns on the moss-covered ground. A pale purple poisonous mist floated in the air, wisps of it coiling between the tree trunks. It smelled sweet, like honey, but when inhaled, it felt like being pricked by a dense network of fine needles, making even the flow of spiritual energy sluggish.

"Cough cough..." The young cultivator in the blue robe clutched his chest and frowned. He had been nonchalant when he first entered the forest, relying on his mid-Foundation Establishment cultivation, but now his face was as white as paper. "That bastard Wang Ran! He's clearly using us as stepping stones! Dragon saliva, dragon pearls, I think there's nothing but death warrants here!"

The short, stout cultivator beside him quickly tugged at him, lowering his voice: "Shh! Keep your voice down! Didn't you see those crows overhead? They might be Wang Ran's men sent to keep watch!" He popped an antidote pill into his mouth; the pill tasted bitter, but it eased the tightness in his chest slightly. "Have you forgotten those 'Spirit-Locking Arrays' we used to have? Unless you have his token, no one can get out the way they came. If you turn back now, you'll be cut to pieces by his men before you've even walked three miles."

The atmosphere in the group instantly sombered. Several female cultivators with slightly weaker cultivation levels had reddened eyes, gripping their magical artifacts tightly, yet they dared not stop—the surrounding poisonous fog was growing thicker and thicker. Just now, a junior brother had curiously touched the purple vines wrapped around a tree trunk, and blisters instantly formed on his fingertips, causing him to writhe in pain. It was only after the elder leading the group threw him a "Heart-Cleansing Talisman" that the poison was suppressed.

“Let’s go forward and see,” the white-haired elder leading the group said in a deep voice. The compass in his hand was trembling slightly, and the pointer was pointing deep into the forest. “Although the poisonous fog is strong, it’s not insurmountable. And look,” he pointed to a tree trunk not far away, where there were several clear claw marks with golden scales still stuck to the edges, “these are the marks left by dragon claws. It seems that the two dragons are indeed in this forest.”