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Chapter 89: Miaojiang Debt

Chapter 90: The Miao Frontier Debt

Lu Qingyang was perched on the roof of a bamboo stilt house, gnawing on glutinous rice wrapped in a banana leaf, when the bronze bell hanging from the eaves suddenly jingled.

He spat out a piece of cured meat stuck in his teeth and chuckled at the Miao girl drying herbs downstairs, "Amei, can I borrow your silver necklace as a weight?"

Three poisoned bamboo arrows whizzed past his ear and embedded themselves in the wooden pillar, as the old priest's snake-head staff thumped dully on the bluestone slab.

"Han man, your heartbeat is weaker than a bear stealing honey."

The string of beast teeth at the old man's waist glowed faintly, and the bronze fragment in Lu Qingyang's embrace suddenly grew hot.

He pulled out half a glutinous rice cake that had hardened into a stone, "I'll trade this for..." Before he could finish, the rice cake cracked open, revealing a Thunder Prison wanted poster wrapped inside, depicting him rolling his eyes and picking his nose.

Children's laughter drifted from behind the bamboo stilt house, and Lu Qingyang took the opportunity to flip and leap down, landing precisely in a basket of drying herbs.

"Grandpa!" A little girl with silver-bell braids bounced over, "This big brother has black butterflies on him!"

She pointed to the black lotus mark peeking out from Lu Qingyang's sleeve, and the old priest's pupils contracted sharply, his snake-head staff striking the ground with a thud, "The debt from three hundred years ago must be repaid."

By the late-night fire pit, Lu Qingyang was surrounded by twenty-seven empty wine jars, hiccupping from drink.

"Back then... *hic*... your Witch Clan Saintess used me to test a spell..." He waved a charred bamboo rat leg, "And now you want Mr. Lu to help you find a bronze drum?"

The old priest flicked his finger, freezing the wine jars into ice sculptures, "The Red Maple Dew from Blood Maple Forest, in exchange for thirty more years of life."

Before the morning mist had dissipated, Lu Qingyang squatted by the stream, filling his gourd with chili water.

"What a sacred relic..." he muttered to his reflection in the water, "Isn't it just a jar for pickling vegetables..."

Before he finished speaking, children's cries came from the forest.

Five men with knives were snatching a medicine boy's basket, in which lay a glowing seven-leaf lotus.

"Have you brothers switched to collecting protection money?" Lu Qingyang strode out of the bushes, swinging his gourd, "This ganoderma looks like what I... passed last night..."

As the bandit leader's machete came down, he splashed out the chili water, "Please, gentlemen, try a special brew from the Miao Frontier!"

While the bandits clutched their eyes and screamed, he snatched the basket and shoved it at the boy, "Run! This thing is worth fifty Spirit Stones..."

But the boy clung desperately to his leg, "They captured my sister!"

Lu Qingyang looked down at the boy's worn straw sandals and suddenly remembered the days when he was at the Golden Core Stage and so hungry he stole offerings.

He pulled out a dud thunder pearl and stuffed it into the bandit leader's crotch, "Lead the way, or I'll make you a eunuch Cultivator."

In the bandit stronghold's cellar, thirteen children were grinding herbs.

Lu Qingyang gripped the bandit leader's neck and sneered, "Have you switched to being herb boys?"

He suddenly caught sight of a bronze drum in the corner—the witch markings on its surface overlapped with his memories from his previous life.

On a rainy night three hundred years ago, a Witch Clan maiden had plunged a blood-stained bone needle into his brow, "Brother Qingyang, this is the only way to save you..."

"What are you spacing out for!" The bandit leader suddenly erupted, shooting poisoned caltrops from his sleeve.

Lu Qingyang dodged, knocking over a medicine cabinet, and various herbs mixed into a highly toxic dust.

He held his breath and threw out three Gale Talismans; when the poisonous mist dissipated, the bandits were lying on the ground, foaming at the mouth.

The children, however, were unharmed, each wearing a detoxifying sachet around their neck.

The bronze drum glowed with a bloody light in the moonlight, and the moment Lu Qingyang touched its surface, the black lotus mark suddenly bloomed.

Memories from his previous life surged like a tide: the Witch Clan Saintess had sacrificed herself to extend his life, but suffered a backlash and became a curse spirit.

"So this debt..." He caressed the cracks on the drum's surface, "is one I owe you."

At dawn, Lu Qingyang carried the bronze drum back to the Miao village.

The old priest poured red maple dew into a skull bowl, "Drink this and lose a hundred years of life."

He tilted his head back, drank it all, and smacked his lips, "Can I get some honey with that?"

A Luo suddenly rushed out and hugged his arm, "Lu Dage, don't drink it! They smeared the rim of the bowl with..."

"What does a little girl like you know?" Lu Qingyang flicked out the Gu worm from the bottom of the bowl, "This is a meeting gift from my father-in-law."

He pulled off A Luo's silver bracelet and tucked it into his embrace, "Collateral accepted, in thirty years..." Before he could finish, a map of the East Sea suddenly appeared on the bronze drum, with a certain island marked with the Guixu rune.

As the torrential rain poured down, Lu Qingyang squatted outside the village gate, studying the drum's surface.

A Luo secretly handed him a packet of lotus leaf rice, "My father says you are an Innate Dao Body..."

He broke open the rice ball, revealing a thunder pearl hidden inside, "Tell your father, if he follows me again, I'll blow up his snake-head staff."

The old priest's cold snort came from within the rain curtain, and the twenty-seven unfrozen wine jars all exploded simultaneously.

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