Han Zhong, for all intents and purposes, was a lousy cultivator. He knew it, Mo Yan knew it, and even Pu He knew it. His talent was so meager that he wouldn't go beyond the Lock Opening's fifth stage; he might be stuck at the peak of the fourth stage forever. That's why he followed Mo Yan, who was more talented, hardworking, and cunning.
He wanted to be like Mo Yan. Well, not exactly like him—Mo Yan was rather ugly and had a hard time with ladies—but he had dreams, goals, and seemed to have control of his life. While he wasn't a shining beacon of charisma, he was the one Han Zhong chose to follow.
When he was possessed, Han Zhong genuinely wanted to help him. He owed him. He was his friend, his sworn brother, and he would take care of him if Mo Yan truly went mad.
But when he saw the portal to the pocket dimension, he chose to leave Mo Yan in Pu He's hands and tried to seek fortune.
Han Zhong was a normal guy. Normally, he wouldn't even get a chance to glimpse a portal to a pocket dimension, but his chance finally arrived, and he took it.
In his heart, he wanted to find a treasure so he could turn his life around. Perhaps he would find a treasure that would help him cultivate faster and soar like a phoenix reborn from its ashes, or even a mountain of spirit stones so he wouldn't need to work forever.
He justified this decision by thinking that if he became stronger or richer, he could take care of Mo Yan easier.
And indeed, in the pocket dimension, he glimpsed these two things: a stone that would help him cultivate faster and a gourd so ancient and mystical that if he sold it, he would have a mountain of spirit stones.
But the heavens did not favor Han Zhong. In the first trial, everyone needed to comprehend a single technique. This fist technique activated by following a complex qi cycling pattern that enhanced not only his right hand but also his heart and spine.
Other people successfully learned this technique in a couple of minutes. The Purple Moon Sect girl mastered it in just a second. Yet, Han Zhong needed almost a day to memorize all the qi cycling patterns. The result was also disastrous. His right hand exploded, and he barely succeeded in using the fist technique with his left hand.
When Han Zhong started the second trial, the others had already completed the fourth and fifth trials. At this moment, he realized he would gain nothing in this pocket dimension, but he still wanted to try his luck.
In the second trial, he needed to fight a single big dog with black fur, a white nose, and ferocious eyes, and it regenerated every time it was wounded.
It was obvious this dog needed to be defeated with the fist technique from the first trial, but Han Zhong hesitated. He lacked confidence in using the fist technique again, afraid his remaining hand would also explode. So he used his brain. He hid, he schemed, and in the end, that black dog got stuck between two boulders and he punched at the dog hundreds, maybe thousands of times, to overwhelm its ability to regenerate.
Han Zhong felt pretty good about it. He thought that while he had meager talent, with hard work he could achieve something. Hell, perhaps he would become immortal. All he needed to do was work as hard as possible and get lucky once.
But in the middle of the third trial—he had to find the right door out of three in front of him—he was suddenly expelled from the pocket dimension and fell from the sky. He flailed his arms, his eyes focused on the brown ground that looked like a crater full of holes below.
Around him, he saw dozens of cultivators falling like him and suddenly realized that the trial was over, and he got nothing and lost an arm because of it.
Profound sadness flooded his heart.
That was the first and possibly last chance to get treasures, but because of his meager talent, he got nothing there.
He wondered what if Mo Yan had entered the pocket dimension. Han Zhong was pretty sure he would have gotten something out of it. Mo Yan would boast to Pu He and Han Zhong, claiming that he defeated a cultivator to get this treasure. Han Zhong would admire him and also feel a little jealous of him.
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Bitterness over his incompetence surged in his heart, but Han Zhong calmed his mind and tried to land safely.
After landing, Han Zhong looked around. He saw blood, corpses, and heads of spirit beasts scattered in a large crater around him. Each of the holes was big enough for dozens of people to fall through together. Obviously, a big battle had happened here, perhaps seniors from the Core Creation or even Sun Refining realm fought here. Han Zhong decided he needed to run from here. He needed to find Pu He and Mo Yan.
"After that, what do I do?" he wondered. Would he truly just take care of Mo Yan? He didn’t mind, but doing so would mean he stopped following Mo Yan. He would become the one in charge, and he felt insecure about it.
"W-what is that?" someone said.
Han Zhong instinctively searched for the speaker and soon realized that it was a woman in a blue robe. She was pretty, though not as pretty as Yan Yu of Purple Moon Sect. She pointed at something, and Han Zhong turned his head to see what it was.
There, hundreds of meters from their position, was a little hill full of spirit beast heads. Most of them were intact. There's a boar head, a lion head, a giant fly head, some boneless head that looked like a slab of meat with eyes, a giant hand with fingers as their hair and two red eyes, and many, many more. It was like an army of cultivators waged a war with these spirit beasts, and each cultivator gained a trophy in the form of a head, which was thrown into a giant and snaking pile.
Atop it stood a man. From the top of his head to the tips of his toes, dry blood and mud clung to him. He looked like a beggar who rolled around in a pool of blood and mud, but his eyes and his stance reminded Han Zhong of an emperor. He was probably the one who killed all the spirit beasts.
Realizing this, Han Zhong trembled, his eyes wide. The scale of this fight was immense. In front of this man, Han Zhong felt like an ant. He observed the man more carefully, trying to carve his image into his heart, but then another realization made his heart race like a herd of galloping horses.
"Isn't he Liu Xing?" he muttered.
Amidst the mud and blood, Han Zhong saw purple. His face was also covered in mud and blood, but the shape of it, the black eyes, and the expression were strikingly familiar. This was the man they had tried to rob, the one who spared them, and even helped subdue Mo Yan.
The last time Han Zhong saw him was when he entered the portal.
A thought suddenly occurred to him, and Han Zhong scanned everything around him. He didn't recognize the area, but beyond the destruction, there was greenery everywhere—a sign they were near a forest. Seeing several giant mushrooms in the distance, he was pretty sure they were still in the Dragon Skull Forest.
Han Zhong then looked for Skull Hill, but when he didn't see it, understanding dawned on him.
"This place is Skull Hill; it's been destroyed!"
Han Zhong focused his eyes on Liu Xing again, his heart beating wildly. Liu Xing was only at the sixth stage, yet he was undoubtedly strong. Han Zhong accepted that a disciple from the Purple Moon Sect was superior to a loose cultivator like him, but Liu Xing's power was beyond his imagination.
"Is this what talent is?" Han Zhong thought. He had considered his talent trash, but now he realized he was below trash. He was just a speck of dust.
Liu Xing suddenly clasped his hands and bowed, striking fear into Han Zhong's heart. Why did he show respect? Didn't he realize that Han Zhong and the other cultivators should be the ones bowing to him? Looking around, Han Zhong saw confusion, fear, and trembling hands and legs. They also realized that if they did something wrong, their lives would be forfeited.
Liu Xing jumped without a word, leaving them in the center of the crater.
For several moments, no one spoke, as if everyone was afraid to offend Liu Xing and be killed. But the silence was soon broken by a shout from a man in a black and red robe. He carried a torn-up giant fan. Han Zhong realized he was from the Red Desert Sect.
"Now that your fellow sect members have abandoned you, I will make sure you pay for what you did. That black sword belongs to senior Chen Wen Hao!" He pointed at Yan Yu.
The man with white hair and a long gash on his hand nodded. "That sword is mine. Give it, and you can live."
Yan Yu just stared at them, as if she didn't hear what they said.
"Take it yourself," she finally said.
Han Zhong sensed a fight would break out, so he wisely turned around and started to run.
As he ran, Han Zhong reflected on what he had experienced in the past few days. The most prominent realization was that he was only a speck of dust in the cultivation world. He was not favored by heaven and seemed unlikely to create a significant change in the world.
"Maybe, Pu He is on the correct path."
As he ran amidst trees and mushrooms, Han Zhong wondered if being a farmer was more fitting for him. If he became a farmer, he wanted to raise livestock, such as chickens and pigs. He also wanted a pet, so he would probably adopt a cat.
"Being a farmer isn't so bad," he muttered.