Chapter 1246: Chapter 1250: Mark Sensing

There were no so-called proper burials in the ground.

Seeing such a scene, Zhu Minglang couldn’t help but sigh. He cleaned up the rotting corpses hanging on the wooden path, the half-ejected skeletal remains, and the piled bodies on the slide and proceeded to bury them.

After this was done, the sky over Heavenly Capital was already bright.

Back at the Funeral Park, Zhu Minglang hadn’t even had time to rest before a new batch of Juvenile Spirit bodies was delivered.

This situation lasted for many days.

By the sixth day, Zhu Minglang furrowed his brow.

The Young Spirit Court was meant to raise Juvenile Spirits, flying the banner of charity and benevolence. They would breed them until they were self-sufficient and then set them free. Logically speaking, the mortality rate of the Young Spirit Court’s Juvenile Spirits should not be this high.

However, in the Funeral Park, Zhu Minglang had processed no fewer than a thousand Juvenile Spirit bodies over these many days. Even if the Young Spirit Court raised tens of thousands of Juvenile Spirits, the mortality rate should not be so dramatically high.

On the seventh day, another batch of Juvenile Spirits was brought in.

This time Zhu Minglang examined each of the Juvenile Spirit bodies very carefully.

“This one is still breathing,” said Zhu Minglang to the breeder who had brought in the bodies.

“Half dead and more troubling than if it had passed. Just deal with it and throw it away,” said the breeder indifferently, clearly having seen such cases many times before.

“But how can we? If it’s alive, it’s alive,” Zhu Minglang said.

“Do as you please. We’ve already destroyed its records. Even if you revive it and send it back, it won’t be allocated any food,” the breeder said, then left indifferently.

Zhu Minglang took the feeble little Juvenile Spirit out of the sack and carefully examined its condition.

There were many inherently ferocious species in the Spiritual Garden. Although they are bred separately, it is inevitable that clashes and fights occur among the Juvenile Spirits, and many of the young spririts’ deaths are due to this.

But many of the recently delivered Juvenile Spirits had no wounds on their bodies, which puzzled Zhu Minglang.

The little Juvenile Spirit in front of him was one such case. It had no visible injuries and its breath was extremely weak, hardly distinguishable from death, yet its symptoms were those of a drowsy stupor.

“Don’t bother checking, it’s most likely that the breeders fed them sleeping grass. If eaten too much, this is what happens… they die in their sleep,” Drunkard Uncle said.

“Was it a mistake by those collecting the herbs?” Zhu Minglang asked, confused.

“Not exactly a mistake. The main issue is that now the Young Spirit Court has too many Juvenile Spirits – so many that no amount of food is enough. Additionally, other gods are questioning why the Court isn’t using this food to help the poor in disaster-stricken areas, which has led to a lot of controversy over the Young Spirit Court among the public. As a result, the breeders are forced to use herbs and grasses that people either don’t eat or that would cause problems if they did, including sleeping grass. It’s fine if eaten occasionally and even aids sleep, but in excess, it’s poison,” explained Drunkard Uncle.

“Isn’t there another solution?”

“Of course, there are solutions, but the question is who will solve it. It requires people with the skills and intelligence, but those who have such abilities usually don’t bother with such matters. For the Young Spirit Court, having a daily reduction in the number of Juvenile Spirits is not necessarily bad. Otherwise, no matter how wealthy, the Court couldn’t afford to maintain an ever-growing population of Juvenile Spirits,” Drunkard Uncle saw the situation quite clearly.

“That’s true,” Zhu Minglang nodded. At this moment, he couldn’t help but think of the Old Farmer and Peng Chen, who would probably be able to easily solve such a problem.

To outsiders, the Young Spirit Court had always seemed like a wonderful place that treated every little life kindly, but working inside, there’s no room for the slightest sentimentality. Do your best and leave life and death to fate.

“Just toss it, it’s practically the same as being dead anyway,” Drunkard Uncle said.

“I’ll give it a try,” Zhu Minglang gently placed his hand on the forehead of the weak little Juvenile Spirit.

“No way, you’re going to adopt it?”

“Yes.”

Zhu Minglang branded the dying little Juvenile Spirit with a mark, hoping his Divine Breath could give it a chance to live.

Regrettably, the Juvenile Spirit still couldn’t hold on. Before closing its eyes for the last time, it tried hard to keep them open, gazing at Zhu Minglang, who was desperately trying to revive it…

Zhu Minglang felt heartbroken, but he was not the kind of deity who could heal wounds and save the dying. Even for a very small life, reviving it was extremely difficult for Zhu Minglang.

In the end, the Juvenile Spirit closed its eyes, leaning against Zhu Minglang’s palm, it heavily fell asleep.

Zhu Minglang took off his own coat, wrapped the little Juvenile Spirit carefully, and then placed it on the wooden gutter, letting it slide down to the bottom of the mountain.

“Woo~”

The Little Nine-tailed Dragon made a sound, seeming to bid farewell to that poor little fellow.

At that moment, the Little Nine-tailed Dragon realized that it was fortunate; otherwise, its fate could have been the same as that of the Juvenile Spirit.

Extending its head, the Little Nine-tailed Dragon rubbed against the back of Zhu Minglang’s hand, displaying its affection and gratitude towards Zhu Minglang in such a coquettish way.

…

Only one last spiritual resource is needed.

Although Zhu Minglang now had a target, reaching that target would entail quite a risk.

If Bai Qingchen returns and there’s no alternative spiritual resource, Zhu Minglang could only venture out with the Little Nine-tailed Dragon.

Days went by, and Zhu Minglang still worked at the Burial Grounds.

Tonight was a moonless night.

The night moons also take turns. There are thirty Moon Fairies in all, and each one appears in the sky in different shapes every day, which is why the moon’s phases change.

Once every month, a moonless night occurs when the God of the Moonless takes turn.

Strangely, although Juvenile Spirits who have died are brought in every day, today none arrived, as if some ancient tradition dictated that on moonless nights, no burials were to be performed.

Zhu Minglang aimlessly sat on a platform facing the wild hills, pondering the last Root of Metamorphosis for the Little Nine-tailed Dragon, when suddenly a very faint heart connection came from the distant mountains below.

This made Zhu Minglang feel puzzled.

Clearly, the sense was not coming from any of his dragons left scattered across Sky Fields.

It was a response from the Juvenile Spirit Mark.

But he wasn’t raising any Juvenile Spirits; the only Juvenile Spirit, Little Fox Spirit, had already signed a contract with him and formed a strong Soul Connection.

“Could it be that Juvenile Spirit? Could it have not died??” Zhu Minglang immediately thought of a dying Juvenile Spirit he had imprinted a mark on just a few days prior.

But something was amiss!

Zhu Minglang was certain it had died before he performed its burial.

“Hum~”

Soon, another pulse of connection came through, like a gentle ripple across a heart lake.

Zhu Minglang was sure this was not his own delusion!

Could that Juvenile Spirit have been in pseudo-death, and now it’s come back to life??

He had to go and see!

Without further thought, Zhu Minglang immediately followed the lengthy slide down.