Demonic Cultivation: Devouring Ten Thousand Demonic Beasts
Chapter 45: Burial site

Chapter 45: Burial site

After carefully sealing Zhao Rui Chen’s remains into a clean Qiankun pouch, the two quietly gathered the rest of the scattered belongings.

Langtian tied the pouch securely to his waist, letting it rest against his hip like a solemn weight. His expression stayed somber the whole time, his eyes dark with thought.

"Let’s go," Yue Ling said softly. "There’s another place I want to show you."

Langtian gave a silent nod, and they began to walk.

The valley air was damp and heavy. Mist clung to their robes like cold breath, and every step they took echoed faintly along the uneven, rocky path.

They passed the quiet lake once more, its dark surface rippling faintly under the weight of mist. From there, they followed a small path winding toward a narrow mountain pass. Two cliffs loomed overhead, leaning toward each other as if trying to close in, forming a natural corridor of stone.

Yue Ling took the lead, her pace steady and sure.

As Langtian followed her through the narrowing gap, something caught his eye. On the rocky ground, there were some tiny red blossoms blooming along the edges of the path. They stood out vividly against the grey stone and pale fog, bright red, almost unnaturally so, and each flower had long, thin petals that curled like delicate threads, surrounding golden stamens that trembled with every breeze.

And then, the deeper they walked, the more blossoms appeared, spreading wider and thicker across the path.

Soon...

Hundreds.

No—thousands of those red flowers filled the space now.

They covered the trail in waves of crimson, as if the entire pass had been painted with blood.

"Wait..." Langtian murmured, eyes narrowing, stopping at his track to gaze upon the flowers. "Are these... Lycoris?"

"Yes." Yue Ling nodded. "Beautiful, aren’t they?"

"Yeah..." he whispered. "But also... kind of haunting."

"Haha, I know," Yue Ling said with a quiet chuckle.

This is because these flowers, the Lycoris Radiata, also known as Red Spider Lilies, were said to bloom only in places touched by sorrow. In ancient legends, they grew along the banks of the Yellow Springs, the path that souls walked after death. It was believed they guided the departed toward the afterlife... their bright red petals marking the boundary between the living and the dead.

Langtian stared at the sea of blossoms, a strange heaviness rising in his chest.

"I wonder where these flowers came from..." he muttered. "Senior Sister, do you know?"

"Of course," Yue Ling replied, her voice gentle. A small smile tugged at her lips. "I planted them."

"What? Seriously?"

"Yup," she said, stepping closer to the path and brushing her fingertips across the delicate flower. "A few years ago, I found a small patch of them while exploring deeper into the valley. I gathered some seeds and brought them back. Every season since then, I’ve spread them further, until they lined the entire path."

Langtian looked around, his breath caught in his throat.

"Woah... It really feels like I’m walking on the road to another world!"

Yue Ling let out a soft laugh.

"Well, in a way, we are. We’re taking Junior Brother Zhao to his eternal resting place."

_________________________

Moments later...

They reached a quiet clearing at the end of the path, tucked gently between two jagged cliff walls.

As Langtian stepped into the open space, he came to an abrupt stop.

His breath caught.

A sea of Red Spider Lilies stretched before him—thousands upon thousands of them, swaying gently in the valley breeze, some glowing faintly like embers in the dusk.

And among the flowers...

Rows upon rows of wooden planks stood upright, each one carved by hand. Some were etched with names. Others bore only a single mark, a simple line or symbol, perhaps because their names were lost, or never known.

"Heavens..." Langtian’s throat tightened. His voice barely rose above a whisper. "This is..."

Yue Ling stood beside him, quiet for a long moment.

"Yes," she said softly. "This is a small burial site that I made. These are the graves of everyone I managed to find... the ones who were thrown down here by that man."

Langtian turned to her, eyes wide with disbelief.

"You really... buried all of them? By yourself?"

Yue Ling gave a quiet nod.

"Of course," she said. "I couldn’t just leave them out there... to rot or be torn apart by beasts. Even if I didn’t know their names, even if all I found was a single bone or a scrap of clothing, I still gave them a place to rest."

Hearing that, Langtian was filled with awe.

Even here, in this cold and shadowed place, a place where death and danger loomed every second, she had still managed to create a sacred sanctuary, a reverent space to honor the dead.

As Yue Ling stepped forward, the crimson petals parting softly as she walked. Her boots pressed lightly into the damp earth as she approached a small open patch between two markers.

Kneeling down, she reached into her Qiankun pouch and pulled out a worn, well-used shovel.

"Come," she said quietly. "Let’s bury him here."

Langtian moved closer, his steps slow and heavy.

"Please... let me," he said, reaching out with both hands.

Yue Ling paused for a moment, then gave a gentle nod and passed him the shovel.

"Alright," she murmured. "I’ll leave it to you."

And so, with a solemn heart and steady hands, Langtian began to dig.

Bit by bit, he dug.

The steady rhythm of the shovel striking earth echoed softly through the still air.

The earth here was damp and packed with stone roots, but he didn’t rush. Each motion of the shovel was careful, almost like a silent prayer. The Red Spider Lilies swayed quietly all around him, as if watching in solemn silence.

When the shallow grave was ready, Langtian took a deep breath and gently opened the Qiankun pouch. A soft glow escaped as the remains of Zhao Rui Chen emerged.

He knelt beside the grave and laid the body down with great care, smoothing out the torn robes. Then, slowly, he reached for the decapitated head.

For a moment, he hesitated.

Then, with quiet reverence, he set it in place atop the shoulders. The angle was gentle, almost natural. He took a clean strip of cloth, folded it, and wrapped it around the neck, covering the wound so that, at least in appearance, Zhao Rui Chen could look whole again.

Yue Ling stood nearby, her arms folded, her voice quiet.

"I really wanted to give them proper caskets," she murmured. "Something dignified. But this... this is the best I can do."

Langtian sat back on his heels, brushing the dirt from his hands.

"No, senior sister, you’ve already done more than enough," he said softly. "Down in the Yellow Springs... I don’t think anyone would blame you. If anything... they’d be thankful."

He glanced around at the field of wooden grave markers.

"After all, you gave them a place to rest. Not left out in the open... not devoured by beasts or turned into walking corpses."

Yue Ling let out a long, quiet breath.

Well... I hope so," she whispered.

And then—silence.

For a long while, the two of them stood there without another word.