**Chapter 106: Poison Kill**
Qin Mu slept at the inn in Huyang County until the afternoon, when a commotion outside jolted him awake. He heard the innkeeper saying, "These red beetles are swarming everywhere—you can't crush them, you can't drive them off! Look at this one, soldier—is it dangerous?"
Qin Mu's heart lurched. He rose at once, woke the little fox curled beside him, and gathered his things. Downstairs, the innkeeper was describing the beetles to a soldier, who was only a martial artist and knew nothing about them. "The whole town's crawling with them—they just appeared. Probably a plague of bugs with all the fighting lately. Just step on them."
"Can't kill them. Fire doesn't work, boiling water doesn't work—they're still jumping around. One just crawled into a guest's mouth, and we couldn't even pry it out. . . ."
Qin Mu set a large Feng coin on the table, pushed open the window, and Little Fox summoned a demon-wind. He leapt out and rode the gust away.
The sky above Huyang County was dotted with scattered red Corpse Beetles. Qin Mu flicked his fingers rapidly, each snap of qi landing like a thunderclap. The nearest beetles dropped dead before they even spotted him.
"The Corpse Immortal Sect just won't give up," Little Fox grumbled. "So what if we killed their Sect Master's son? Do they really have to chase us like this?"
Qin Mu touched down and ran at full speed, grabbing several steamer baskets of buns from a vendor along the way. He carried the whole baskets off. The vendor was about to shout about stolen goods when a large Feng coin landed on his stall. The vendor beamed.
Qin Mu shoved buns into his mouth while sprinting out of the county seat. Little Fox leapt onto his shoulder, snatched a piping-hot bun from the basket, and tossed it back and forth between her paws, blowing on it, then took a bite and yelped, spitting out her tongue.
Man and fox finished the buns quickly. Qin Mu glanced back—no red beetles in pursuit. He breathed a sigh of relief.
Little Fox ducked into the bundle and pulled out a map of the Yankang State. Qin Mu studied the map, looked around to get his bearings, and immediately accelerated toward the capital.
---
Back in Huyang County, the red beetles found no trace of Qin Mu and poured out of the town. On a hill outside the walls, Martial Uncle Qiao recalled his swarm, frowning. Just then, he spotted a one-armed old man walking past and casually stepping on a beetle.
Qiao was about to roar in fury when he caught himself: My Corpse Beetles are extraordinarily hard-shelled—ordinary people can't crush them. This old man is a master. Best not provoke him.
Once the old man had moved on, Qiao considered his options. Nowhere nearby. The routes east and west are covered by my flying corpses, and they found nothing. He must be heading north.
He set off northward.
Before long, he encountered the one-armed old man again—a lone sleeve hanging empty, pacing north at an unhurried gait.
Qiao chose to ignore him. His beetles formed a red cloud that lifted him into the air while others searched the surrounding forest for any trail Qin Mu might have left.
Snap. Snap.
The old man stepped on two more beetles. Qiao's eyebrow twitched. He held his temper. The beetle cloud descended, hovering about a foot above the ground and stopping two zhang from the old man.
Qiao bowed respectfully. "Elder, those are my beetles. Stepping on one could be an accident—but twice?"
The old man halted. "I thought they were stray insects, flying about. I see they're yours. My apologies."
Qiao forced a smile. "No harm done when one doesn't know. Just watch your step next time, Elder. . . ."
Snap.
The old man's foot came down on yet another beetle. Qiao's expression darkened instantly. The old man shuffled backward quickly. "That wasn't intentional. . . ."
Snap. Several more beetles had somehow landed beneath his feet and were crushed into a red paste.
Qiao sneered. From the treeline, flying corpses emerged and surrounded the old man. His face was grim. "Elder, are you toying with me? Deliberately crushing the beetles I've cultivated—do you take the Corpse Immortal Sect for a joke?"
The old man looked alarmed. "So you're from the Corpse Immortal Sect! Don't misunderstand—your bugs flew under my feet on their own. I can't be blamed."
Qiao, unsure of the old man's depth, felt a flicker of caution. His expression softened, though reluctantly. "Since it wasn't deliberate, I'll let it go."
He was about to leave when—snap. Qiao's rage boiled over. With a thought, his flying corpses lunged at the old man.
His flying corpses were nothing like He Yin's. He Yin was merely a core disciple who had just reached the Sixfold Realm and awakened limited supernatural powers. Qiao was an elder-generation figure at the Seven Stars Realm—his flying corpses had been refined into bronze-armored zombies, iron-boned and copper-sinewed, devastating in combat.
And he had raised many. To unleash all of them on a single old man—overkill, but effective.
Before the bronze-armored corpses could reach him, a resonant Buddhist chant rang out. Golden light blazed. Qiao felt as though a Buddha stood before him—terror seized his soul. He dropped to his knees and kowtowed deeply. "Mercy!"
The flying corpses, bathed in the Buddhist light, toppled like cut trees. All connection to Qiao was severed in an instant—they had been converted on the spot, no longer capable of harming the world.
"Rise."
The old man glanced at him and strode away. "When you can spare someone, spare them. I won't kill you. I hope you'll do the same."
Qiao looked around cautiously and let out a breath. I read the situation quickly, as always. Any skill, if refined well enough, can save your life. For example: when you can't win, kneel.
He climbed to his feet and steadied himself, his face twisted with pain. Those flying corpses took years of painstaking effort to refine—all destroyed in an instant! Who is this one-armed man? Terrifying. He didn't even lift a hand—just shone a light and my treasures were gone! . . . But once I catch that boy and claim the first-rank official's sword, it will all be worth it!
---
Qin Mu was racing through the mountain forest when he suddenly stopped. He bent down and uprooted a small plant bearing three purple blossoms. Little Fox tilted her head. "Master Qin, what flower is this?"
"This is Earth Origin Grass. It has a scent that humans and beasts can't smell."
Qin Mu carefully plucked the purple flowers, keeping the leaves and roots intact. He wandered deeper into the forest and gathered several other common medicinal herbs.
"But for insects, the scent of Earth Origin Grass is irresistible. The plant itself isn't toxic to humans—it's deadly poisonous to bugs. That's why it's also called the Hundred Insect Bane. The herbs I've collected have no other use except to amplify the scent and toxicity of the Earth Origin Grass a hundredfold."
He ran onward, lifting the herbs with his qi and using his own energy as a furnace to refine them on the spot.
With his other hand, he conjured flame to roast and bake the medicinal properties, while Black Tortoise qi moistened the herbs to prevent scorching.
Before he even crossed the next valley, the herbs were distilled. He discarded the dregs and cupped his hands together. A few drops of clear, oil-like liquid gathered in his palms.
Qin Mu spotted a clear spring in a nearby hollow. He washed his hands, then burst into a sprint.
---
Not long after, a crimson cloud filled the sky—Martial Uncle Qiao's red Corpse Beetles, closing in. The swarm was about to overtake Qin Mu when it suddenly lurched out of control, plunging downward toward the spring in the hollow.
Behind them, Qiao's heart lurched. He raced forward. When he reached the hollow, ice filled his chest. The slopes were carpeted with dead red beetles—his entire painstakingly raised swarm, annihilated to the last.
To wipe out every single beetle with one move—such skill sent a chill down the spine.
"And the most important thing is . . ." Qin Mu called back cheerfully to the fox in his bundle. "Corpse Beetles are themselves a poison—a deadly one, especially the red variety. The toxin I just refined is harmless to humans, but if a red beetle ingests it, it combines with the beetle's own venom to produce something far more terrible. A single touch means instant flesh-rot and paralysis. You can only watch yourself dissolve!"
Little Fox shivered. "Master, couldn't that Corpse Immortal expert be poisoned? His cultivation is very high!"
Qin Mu said lightly, "That depends on whether he touches the beetles."
He glanced at the sky and murmured, "This toxin is self-neutralizing. Sunlight breaks it down—the longer it's exposed, the weaker it becomes. Half an hour under direct sun and the poison is gone. But for that half hour, whoever touches it dies."
---
In the hollow, Qiao's body trembled. Then he sneered. "Good thing I still have more beetles—and the Beetle Mother is still with me. . . ."
At that moment, the remaining beetles on his body surged out wildly, flying toward the toxic spring. Even the Beetle Mother broke free. Qiao cried out and lunged for it, but it was already at the water's edge, drinking.
He seized the Beetle Mother from behind, nearly sighing with relief—then his body locked. The skin on his hand began to rot at terrifying speed, spreading up his arm. Muscle sloughed off his forearm and fell to the ground, dissolving into pus in seconds.
He could see his arm decaying but felt no pain at all.
He tried to sever the limb, but his body refused to obey—as if consciousness and flesh had been torn apart. He clenched his teeth and forced his other arm upward. His balance failed. He toppled face-first to the ground, cheek pressing against a dozen dead Corpse Beetles.
"The Herbalist told me: when you can't win, use poison," the village cowherd murmured from a distance, with genuine admiration. "The Herbalist was absolutely right."