Happy Little Farmer
Chapter 773

Chapter 773: Chapter 773

The fight was slightly easier than Yang Fan had anticipated.

Those terrifying masked individuals, surprisingly, were even frailer than the men wielding knives—basically one strike per person with the wooden mace.

This left Yang Fan questioning reality and feeling a little overconfident.

He couldn’t tell whether it was because he was too strong, or those people were just too weak.

The life-and-death battle Yang Fan had imagined turned out to leave him completely unscathed.

However, he successfully rescued Wang Daqiang and the others.

It was practically perfect.

He crouched down and began collecting the items dropped by those people.

Anything that hadn’t disappeared with their deaths must be valuable—he’d ask Mr. Fan about it later.

"Fanzi, why have you come to this place? And dressed like this?" Wang Daqiang finally couldn’t hold back his excitement, quickening his steps to ask.

Yang Fan gave Wang Daqiang an annoyed look. "What do you think? Didn’t I tell you to get out of here fast? Look where you’ve ended up now! Do you even realize you’re already one step away from being dead?"

Wang Daqiang looked a bit embarrassed. "I thought I could help out somehow, then out of nowhere I lost consciousness. When I opened my eyes again, I was here. Our group had fallen into an abandoned well."

"I asked around earlier—everyone here had also been in the same village in the city as me at the time."

The people around nodded collectively, their gazes toward Yang Fan filled with awe.

To them, anyone who could move freely in the underworld was undoubtedly a master.

"I know," Yang Fan said. "I came down here to find you all. Enough talking for now—let’s get out of here. Every extra moment spent in this place adds to the danger."

Wang Daqiang and the others nodded in unison.

"Everyone, hold hands and follow closely behind me. Don’t take a single wrong step!" Yang Fan said loudly.

"People up front, pay close attention. A misstep of yours could cost someone else their life—do you understand?"

Everyone nodded solemnly.

Yang Fan held high the Blood Palm Print Lantern and led the group slowly back along the path they had come.

One step, two steps... seven steps.

The faint glow of the Blood Palm Print Lantern gradually transformed into the light of a candle.

Yang Fan was back.

He stared at the candlelight in front of him, adjusting for a moment before looking around.

More and more people began standing up.

Yang Fan scanned the crowd back and forth twice, finally spotting Wang Daqiang.

He looked groggy, dazedly staring into the distance.

Yang Fan approached with the half-burnt candle still in hand. "Awake yet?"

"Huh? Fanzi..." Wang Daqiang suddenly exclaimed, then gradually snapped back to his senses.

He chuckled awkwardly and said, "I’m awake, awake. It’s just that I feel... so disoriented. I actually walked through the underworld and made it back alive. This... this is too unbelievable."

"Cut the disbelief. If I hadn’t gotten there on time, you’d be dead. Dead dead—not standing here marveling!" Yang Fan retorted irritably.

This guy was truly carefree.

Even after such an experience, he could still ruminate on it like this.

Wang Daqiang let out a sheepish laugh. "Well, that’s true, but the experience was still... still pretty incredible."

Yang Fan shook his head speechlessly. "Enough reminiscing about this stuff. Go count the people who’ve just returned—make sure no one’s missing. Check carefully. Specifically, ask about each person’s special circumstances, like their ID, family situation, things like that. Observe their expressions—see if there’s anything unusual or particularly abnormal."

"This is important. Don’t be careless."

Wang Daqiang asked curiously, "Why ask those things? Are you suspecting something else?"

"Don’t concern yourself with the reasons. Just follow my instructions—be thorough and leave no one out," Yang Fan said gravely. "I have to remind you again: this is very important."

Wang Daqiang suppressed his strong curiosity, nodding seriously. "I’ll absolutely be careful."

"Good. Go."

Yang Fan nodded, holding the candle while carrying the spoils he had just picked up along the path back. He headed toward where Mr. Fan and his group were—apparently, they had already completed their ritual and were sitting around smoking and resting.

Whatever they had just performed must have been something significant; aside from Mr. Fan, the others looked utterly drained.

Their faces were pale, and their clothes were soaked through with sweat.

"Why’ve you brought back so many people this time? What happened?" Mr. Fan asked as soon as Yang Fan approached.

He had noticed the unusually large number of conscious individuals.

Yang Fan glanced at the people beside Mr. Fan. Mr. Fan caught on and stepped aside.

"Ran into something strange..." Yang Fan carefully described the events in front of the dirt house to Mr. Fan.

As Mr. Fan listened, his brows gradually furrowed. Muttering to himself, he said, "Why would the Netherworld Market appear there?"

"Netherworld Market?" Yang Fan asked.

Mr. Fan nodded. "That’s a unique alley market found along the Netherworld Road. It sells particularly rare and specialized items—you could think of them as that region’s local specialties. Most of the customers are living people."

"Living people?" Yang Fan asked in shock. "Are you saying those masked figures were all alive?"

Mr. Fan nodded again. "The Netherworld Market offers many valuable cultivation resources. Most cultivators have ways to traverse the Netherworld Road."

Yang Fan hefted the heavy wooden mace in his hand. "How odd. If they were alive, why were they so fragile? When that old man in the green robe agreed to let six or seven of them stay, I took them all down with a single strike each. Their strength seemed remarkably weak."

"Do you feel incredibly powerful right now?" Mr. Fan gave Yang Fan a sidelong glance, speaking indifferently.

Yang Fan shook his head. "I don’t feel that strong, but they gave me the illusion that I was."

"At least you understand the meaning of the word ’illusion.’ Seems like you’ve made some progress," Mr. Fan teased. "The reason you think they’re weak is because those people were merely projections of their consciousness. Meanwhile, you were operating through Divine Soul Travel."

"What’s the difference?" Yang Fan asked curiously.

"The difference is significant," Mr. Fan explained. "While, to you, that one consciousness may appear to perish, to its master, the experience is akin to waking up from a nightmare."

"Many cultivators rely on substitutes like paper persons or straw men for protection during such journeys, imbuing them with consciousness. Even if an accident results in their destruction, their original bodies remain completely unharmed."

"So that’s how it works," Yang Fan said. "No wonder they felt so weak—I knew something seemed off."

"Don’t think they’re all like that. Some people’s paper person substitutes, after undergoing refinement, could easily slash you to pieces," Mr. Fan said, casting Yang Fan a glance like a bucket of cold water poured over his excitement.