He Cong found a cloak to conceal his face and opened the door.
Two constables brought a corpse, and upon seeing He Cong's disguise, they casually asked a few questions. He Cong told them that Wang Bo had returned home to visit relatives, and he was temporarily managing the mortuary.
The constables, without suspicion, handed the corpse over to He Cong and left.
After seeing them off, He Cong busied himself with the body of Wang Bo, digging a nearby pit and burying him in the soil.
Once he had dealt with Wang Bo's body, He Cong returned to the mortuary only to find that the assassin who had fainted earlier had disappeared, presumably freeing himself while He Cong was burying Wang Bo.
After a night of work, he felt tired and lay down on the high-backed chair where Wang Bo used to rest.
With the whereabouts of the assassin unknown, he dared not sleep and could only close his eyes to rest, pondering his next move.
Staying here was not the best option, but leaving presented the challenge of not knowing where to go. Furthermore, the village chief of He's village had treated him poorly, first embezzling land and then desecrating his mother's grave. The chief even colluded with the county magistrate to set a deadly trap.
This was a great grievance that must be avenged!
After pondering all night, He Cong had a plan in mind.
He was not in a hurry to leave and stayed in the mortuary.
During the day, He Cong practiced cultivation, and in the evening, he closed his eyes to rest, continuing like this for several months. The assassin seemed to fear He Cong's strength and did not show up, which relieved He Cong.
During this time, constables from the government would occasionally bring in some bodies of unknown causes of death, and occasionally, relatives would come to identify the bodies.
When interacting with outsiders, He Cong would often wear a cloak and was not recognized by others.
At the end of each month, he could still receive a small salary, barely enough to make ends meet.
He Cong lay on the high-backed chair, holding a yellowed booklet in his hand. This book was the one left by Wang Bo, recording the methods of cultivating immortality.
After Wang Bo's death, He Cong searched his room, besides some silver coins, this book was the only thing that interested him.
During this time, his cultivation technique had successfully reached the fourth level.
According to the booklet, at this level, he could start practicing immortal techniques.
However, following the methods in the booklet, gesturing, channeling spiritual energy, and trying various techniques, he did not succeed.
He believed that diligence could make up for clumsiness, deliberately slowing down the pace of cultivation and focusing on studying the techniques.
Regardless of his efforts, he still failed.
It was not until one day, when a thunderstorm struck, that he looked up at the dark clouds surrounded by threads of electric arcs and suddenly became enlightened.
He remembered that he survived the lightning strike probably because he had the lightning spirit root.
During this period, he had been practicing mostly fire-based techniques, such as the fireball technique. Perhaps it was because the lightning root was incompatible with fire, he had not succeeded.
The reason for choosing these techniques was that the fireball technique, as recorded in the booklet, was a low-level technique that could be practiced at the fourth level of Qi Condensation. The thunder technique, on the other hand, was a higher-level technique, requiring a cultivation level of six or higher to practice!
Realizing this, He Cong refocused on practicing the cultivation technique.
He began to notice that as his cultivation level increased, he needed to gather much more spiritual energy than before.
It took him two years to reach the fifth level of Qi Condensation. When he practiced the sixth level technique, it took him four years.
When his cultivation reached the sixth level, he couldn't wait to follow the instructions in the booklet, raising a finger. The spiritual energy in his body flowed in a special way, circulating for a week before gathering at his fingertips.
He Cong stared at his fingertip, and in just ten breaths, sweat began to bead on his forehead.
His face flushed, and he exerted all his strength. His appearance was like that of a person struggling to relieve himself in an outhouse.
After a cup of tea's time, a hint of joy flashed across his face. In the next moment, a tiny electric arc flashed from between his flesh and skin at his fingertip.
This electric arc remained condensed and did not dissipate, flashing back and forth at his fingertip, making a crackling sound.
He Cong was overjoyed, thinking that years of hard work had not been in vain. However, this was ultimately an immortal technique, no matter how powerful it was, he intended to test it. He stood up immediately, wanting to find a hapless victim to try it on. However, in just a moment of distraction, the lightning arc at his fingertip suddenly dissipated. When he tried to condense it again, he found that most of his spiritual energy had already been depleted.
"The thunder technique truly lives up to its reputation as an immortal spell. Just a brief display almost depleted all the spiritual energy in my body. I wonder how powerful it is," He Cong murmured.
Intent on testing the power of the thunder technique, He Cong went to the fields and caught grasshoppers, toads, and several large fish from the river.
On his way back and forth to the mortuary, whenever He Cong encountered a gorgeously decorated farmhouse in the mountains, he would stop and gaze for a moment.
This place used to be his mother's grave. Many years ago, the village chief ordered the grave to be dug up to build a luxurious dwelling for the local magistrate's mistress.
For these years, he had been thinking about revenge all the time. However, he was aware that he was alone. Although he had mastered the cultivation technique of an immortal, it was difficult to contend with many enemies, so he had to endure.
"Mother, rest assured. Once I master the thunder technique, they will not have a good time." He Cong looked towards the former grave site and bowed respectfully.
After bidding farewell, he returned to the mortuary, adjusted himself to his peak state, and used live animals to test the power of the thunder technique.
As soon as these animals touched the lightning arc, they trembled violently, stiffened, and then fell silent.
He Cong pointed his finger again, and a subtle electric arc shot towards a water basin. In the next moment, a large fish swimming in the basin suddenly trembled and sank to the bottom, no longer moving.
After witnessing the power of the thunder technique, He Cong even went to the river and let the electric arc fall into the water, wanting to further test its power.
The result seemed less than ideal; the river surface was calm, without any ripples.
Returning to the mortuary, he slept for a night. When he woke up the next day and saw the fish floating in the water basin, he became alert. Returning to the river, he found that the surface was full of dead fish.
He then realized that the power of the thunder technique was far more terrifying than he had imagined.
The strength of the thunder technique also gave He Cong the confidence for revenge.
Now, even if facing hundreds of constables, he had the confidence to retreat unscathed.
However, he had just mastered the thunder technique, and it was still unfamiliar to him. To be safe, he decided to practice the technique until he could use it at will before he was satisfied.
He Cong took off his cloak, revealing his true face, and walked out of the mortuary, heading towards the luxurious dwelling.
With his cultivation improved, his hearing was several times stronger than before.
At this moment, the house was brightly lit, and the sounds of a man and a woman laughing could be heard inside.
He Cong recognized one of the voices as belonging to the magistrate.
Suddenly, he heard the magistrate pause in his speech, followed by heavy breathing.
At first, the breathing was weak, but it gradually became louder.
After a short while, the woman in the room seemed to be crying out in pain, her voice both panting and charming, extremely enticing.
He Cong thought that the magistrate was bullying the woman and was about to intervene. Unexpectedly, the woman then said, "Darling, don't stop, continue!"
He Cong was puzzled. He focused his eyes and looked through the gauze window into the room.
Inside, a man and a woman were embracing, engaging in intimate activities.
This was the first time He Cong had seen such a scene. For some reason, his heart suddenly beat faster, and he felt a heat rising in his lower abdomen, making him extremely uncomfortable.