Chapter 352: Chapter 316: Returning to the Homeland

On the northern journey of Sang Que, Xia Chan, and Qiao Ling, they were surrounded by devastation.

The towns they passed through were deserted, stalls overturned, miscellaneous items scattered on the ground and unattended. From the streets and alleys, the cries of children and the lamentations of the elderly echoed from time to time.

Most of the surrounding villages had been consumed by a massive fire, leaving only charred ruins.

The once fertile farmlands lay barren, overgrown with weeds.

On the rural paths, families with their belongings in tow formed a long, snaking line, fleeing to places untouched by the ravages of war.

Most of them were in tattered clothes, their faces haggard, eyes filled with fear and despair.

Elderly people leaned on canes, moving with difficulty, while women carried young children on their backs, stumbling, their hair clinging messily to tear-streaked faces.

Among them, there were no young or robust individuals, most couldn’t make it far before collapsing on the road, especially after nightfall when without shelter, they were at the mercy of fate.

Sang Que and her companions rode past these refugees, only able to whip their horses to hasten their pace; they couldn’t save these people.

Only when the war ends can these people truly settle down.

On this journey, whenever they encountered escaping groups, Sang Que silently killed the lurking evil spirits on the outskirts, without saying a word, although Qiao Ling noticed it all.

Sang Que was usually reserved, with a cold exterior but a warm heart.

At night, the three found an abandoned relay station to rest temporarily.

The buildings of the relay station were relatively intact; once these relay stations were a lifeline for travelers, ensuring operation regardless of natural or ghostly disasters.

Now, due to the chaos of war, even the relay stations were abandoned.

There were people in the relay station, about a dozen, divided into two groups, gathered around campfires. By their attire and packages, they too were refugees, but they seemed to be merchants from a certain town rather than ordinary folk.

Sang Que, dressed like a wanderer, guarded Qiao Ling and Xia Chan to a corner without people and started a campfire.

Xuan Yu, as always, quickly climbed up to the roof beams, taking the high ground to keep watch for everyone.

Xia Chan skillfully found a stick, sprinkled some water on hard biscuits, and roasted them over the fire.

Chatting idly with Qiao Ling, Sang Que was curious about something and asked softly, “Sister Qiao, do you think that if the war continues, the population of Xuan Dynasty will decline sharply, and the strength of the Evil Suppression Bureau against evil spirits and ghosts will also weaken rapidly, aren’t they afraid that the ghosts will destroy the world?”

Qiao Ling sighed, “It’s unavoidable. As long as one side insists on fighting, the war won’t stop, and there will definitely be heavy casualties. Moreover…”

Qiao Ling looked around and leaned in to tell Sang Que, “Moreover, this time the Qianshou Army is being pushed by the Ghost Opera Troupe in cooperation with Yunzhou. Yunzhou doesn’t care about the life and death of Xuan Dynasty people, and the Ghost Opera Troupe thrives on the fear of thousands, so this fighting benefits both Yunzhou and the Ghost Opera Troupe.”

“The Ghost Opera Troupe and the Evil Suppression Bureau are like two sides of the same coin; the Evil Suppression Bureau is the yang side, gathering the incense fire wishing power of the people, while the Ghost Opera Troupe is the yin side, gathering people’s fear and despair. The current offerings in the Evil Suppression Bureau include the Prime Minister, Daoist Lord, and Longevity Buddha, which are yang Ghost Gods, while the Ghost Opera Troupe’s offering, the Opera God, is a yin Ghost God.”

Sang Que was puzzled, “Isn’t the Prime Minister still alive? Can a living person become a Ghost God?”

Qiao Ling, unaware that the Prime Minister was once a member of the Nine Songs, whispered, “I don’t know either, but I hope the Prime Minister can succeed. If a rational person can become a Ghost God, it might be a blessing for the people. I know you’re wondering, I also used to think that incense fire could only be accumulated through a large population, but that’s not the case.”

Sang Que’s eyes brightened, listening intently.

Qiao Ling said, “I have some experience of my own. When a person’s will to survive is extremely strong and they are very close to death, if I save them, the incense power they return is stronger than others I’ve saved. So I always felt that the incense power provided by a devout believer hasn’t reached its peak.”

Sang Que lowered her eyes in thought; she had always pondered this issue as well. The incense power doesn’t have a fixed standard, its strength is felt.

But incense power relates to the intensity of human emotions; the stronger the emotions, the stronger the incense power.

So, suppose in times of peace, a person devoutly worships a Ghost God and can provide a certain amount of incense power. During wartime, due to a survival threat, if their desire to be saved becomes stronger, would they be able to provide twice, or even more, the incense power?

The same goes for the power of fear.

In fact, during wartime, this powerful incense power might be more pure than the incense accumulated through quantity, more conducive to resisting the erosion of the Nine Netherworld.

Could it be that both the Evil Suppression Bureau and the Ghost Opera Troupe are benefiting from this war?

The chaos leaves the people homeless; their fear and despair strengthen the Ghost Opera Troupe, and when this despair reaches a certain extent, as long as Xuan Dynasty wins and brings peace to the people again, the people’s instant excitement and joy will definitely bring an incredibly powerful surge of incense power.

This might be the only way to enhance incense power when the population of the Deceit Dynasty is insufficient.

Sang Que was startled by her own thoughts, scared yet, unfortunately, she was no longer part of the Evil Suppression Bureau; otherwise, by feeling the incense power in her mask recently, she could know if it was increasing or decreasing, thus finding the answer.

Looking at Qiao Ling, Sang Que realized she was hinting at this matter; both of their brows furrowed unconsciously. No matter when, those who profit are always those in power, while those suffering are always the people at the bottom.

Sang Que felt conflicted, suddenly doubting the higher-ups of the Xuan Dynasty, or rather her own father, the Prime Minister—whether he intentionally allowed the Ghost Opera Troupe to incite the disorder.

If not, why hasn’t the entire Evil Suppression Bureau been mobilized to conduct comprehensive purges of the Ghost Opera Troupe, which she didn’t believe couldn’t be eradicated?

“Sister, have a biscuit!”

Xia Chan handed a roasted biscuit to Sang Que, who accepted it with thanks; Xia Chan then gave one to Qiao Ling and kept the remaining three for herself, happily munching away.

Qiao Ling comforted Sang Que, “Thinking too much hurts the heart and spleen, don’t overthink it, just do what you want to do right now.”

Sang Que nodded, biting her biscuit as she pulled out the map given by Zhang the Fourth from her bag. She checked their current position, her finger moving across the map until she found the relay station, continuing northward; her finger suddenly stopped, her eyes turning complex.

The previously cheerful Xia Chan also stopped, looking at the words under Sang Que’s finger, her eyes gradually darkening.

Da Heishan.

They had already arrived near Da Heishan; Black Mountain Village was there, but there was a conspicuous red line on the map separating Da Heishan’s area, which was entirely under the Qianshou Army’s control.

“Mother…” Xia Chan muttered, thinking of her mother again.

Sang Que patted Xia Chan’s head, then continued to look at the map, which showed Tangyuan County and Dongyang County were not yet taken by the Qianshou Army. Most villagers who escaped from Black Mountain Village took refuge in Tangyuan County.

Skinny and He Baosheng’s family settled in Dongyang County, and the Ming Mansion was on the way to Dongyang County.

Past events poured into her mind, Sang Que unsure of how those old friends fared now.

She turned to look at those by the fires and cleared her throat to ask, “Excuse me, are any of you from Tangyuan County?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep