Chapter Sixty-Seven: The Classification of the Cunning Scholars and Li Gun’s Request

Strange adepts are human too; they stick together, and this didn’t surprise Fang Mu. “Are we leaving now?” Fang Mu took a sip of his wine and asked, “Do you have any concrete leads?”

“Yes,” Li Gun replied straightforwardly. “There are traces showing they fled this way. I searched every corner of Well Dragon County but found nothing. Now I plan to look elsewhere.”

“That’s still searching aimlessly,” Fang Mu frowned, sensing something amiss—this wasn’t like Li Gun. Actions should have purpose, especially when hunting down the remnants of the Five Gods Sect. From what Li Gun was saying, the sect had already vanished without a trace, and he intended to search other places.

But where? How would he search? Without leads, what difference was there from simply relying on luck?

Li Gun held a high position—being a Constable in the Heaven Surveillance Office was no small matter. There’s no way he would run around like a headless chicken. If the Constable of the Heaven Surveillance Office operated at that level, it would be a laughingstock.

Li Gun took a sip of wine, a flush rising in his cheeks, and whispered, “Of course it’s not aimless. The remnants of the Five Gods Sect are cunning; if I stay here, they won’t show themselves. That’s why I must leave first.”

“Oh, so that’s how it is.” Fang Mu waved his hand and called out, “A Bai, bring some peanuts.”

Just drinking felt a bit dry; there were some peanuts at home, perfect with wine.

A Bai, who was wiping the window ledge, paused in surprise at Fang Mu’s words.

“Start with little things, and you’ll achieve great things,” Fang Mu said solemnly. “Small tasks lead to big ones. Do the small things well, and one day you’ll follow your master to conquer the world.”

Fired up, A Bai quickly brought over a plate of peanuts and placed it on Fang Mu’s table.

Fang Mu patted A Bai’s head approvingly, then turned back to Li Gun. After popping a peanut into his mouth, he said, “I can tell there’s more to your words than you’re letting on.”

He had a habit when eating peanuts—he didn’t like the outer red skin.

Li Gun chuckled. “Brother Fang, think about it: the remnants of the Five Gods Sect have fled to these parts. If I leave, their restraint is gone, and they’ll eventually surface to cause trouble. What they could never guess is that there’s still—”

“Still me here, am I right?” Fang Mu laughed.

Li Gun looked a little embarrassed and took another sip to cover it.

Fang Mu picked up another peanut, peeling off the red skin. “To be honest, I haven’t been in this line of work long, and I know little about strange adepts. I want to ask: are strange adepts like Yu Youde? When they die, do they become anomalies, or drop anomalies?”

Li Gun, pulled from his awkwardness by the question, perked up. “If you know about strange adepts, Brother Fang, you must know their origins.”

Fang Mu nodded, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

Li Gun continued, “Strange adepts draw their power from anomalies. Generally, we divide them into two types: those who command anomalies, and those who drive anomalies.”

“Command and drive?” Fang Mu asked with interest, eating another peanut. “What’s the difference?”

“The ones who command anomalies strengthen themselves through the anomaly, like taking a tonic—the strength is their own. Those who drive anomalies are different; they amplify the anomaly’s power and use it against their enemies.”

“Then why does Yu Youde eat people?” Fang Mu asked.

Li Gun replied, “That’s not a classification of strange adepts, but a method of becoming one. The ways to become a strange adept are myriad. I’ve even seen one who ate feces to merge with an anomaly. I mean, doesn’t feces stink to eat?”

Fang Mu was speechless.

How… stimulating. This was some next-level operation.

Li Gun had drifted off-topic, but now returned to the point. “The Five Gods in the Five Gods Sect represent metal, wood, water, fire, and earth—the five elements. Their leader renamed it the Five Gods Sect to attract followers. Their type is precisely the anomaly-driving kind.”

“Anomaly-driving?” Fang Mu stroked his chin. “So, they control anomalies to fight?”

“Exactly,” Li Gun nodded. “They command anomalies, nurturing them with one of the five elements: metal is tough and hard to injure, wood has strong regenerative power, water commands water, fire wields fire, earth uses the ground as a base for swift movement.”

At this, Li Gun grew a little hesitant. “Brother Fang, I know this is an unreasonable request, but it’s not without compensation. Look at this.”

With that, Li Gun produced a cloth bundle and handed it to Fang Mu.

Fang Mu took it and found, upon opening, a sword sheath inside.

The sheath was exquisitely patterned, shaped like a half-moon.

Fang Mu drew his pig-killing blade from his waist and slid it into the new sheath—it fit perfectly.

The blade gave a faint shudder; a black gleam flickered along its edge. Gripping the handle, Fang Mu sensed, as if guided by fate, that the blade had grown even smoother in his hand.

“A fine blade deserves a fine sheath,” Li Gun said, rubbing his hands. “Just as a good woman deserves a good man, and a fine horse a good saddle. I had this sheath made especially for you, crafted from Severed Wicked Stone. It nurtures the blade, making it sharper and tougher.”

Severed Wicked Stone? Fang Mu recalled the name—back in the Wilds Village, Qing Ruowu had used it to test whether he was good or evil.

Fang Mu caressed the sheath, hung it at his waist, and sighed.

Li Gun was puzzled—did this sigh mean he was refusing?

On reflection, Li Gun found it reasonable; after all, Fang Mu wasn’t part of the Heaven Surveillance Office. Why would he risk himself for their sake? Even with a gift, it depended on whether he was willing to take the risk.

After securing the sheath, Fang Mu took another sip, then patted Li Gun’s shoulder. “Brother Li Gun, what kind of man do you take me for? Am I so afraid of death?”

Li Gun looked baffled, spreading his hands, waiting for Fang Mu to go on.

Fang Mu’s expression turned solemn. “Since the day I became a Mystic Adept, I made it my duty to slay demons and exorcise evil. This Five Gods Sect you mentioned—even if you didn’t give me this fine gift, I would not hesitate to act.”

As he said this, Fang Mu’s face was grave and righteous.

If the honest and upright Iron Calculating Immortal were here, he’d probably burst out laughing. Fang Mu, making it his mission to slay demons and evil? Please, don’t make me laugh.

Of course, Fang Mu’s agreement wasn’t as noble as his words suggested; he had deeper considerations.

Strange adepts who drive anomalies—weren’t they walking experience troves? How could he pass that up?

In this world teeming with anomalies, if one wanted to live well, one had to make full use of corpse-inspection skills. Wasn’t this the perfect opportunity?

Besides, it was quite a good deal—he’d gained a Severed Wicked Stone sheath and had the chance to search corpses for loot. It was a win-win situation.