Chapter Thirty-Two: The Valley Stream

“Not qualified to manage you? Just what do you think you’re doing?”
“Nearly two months have passed. Hundred Springs Mountain is only a few hundred miles from here, yet several thousand mining slaves still haven’t completed their own shelters?”
“All these days, with so many people, and not even the most basic mine tunnel has been opened in Cold Creek Valley—what exactly have you been doing?”
“And further, what about the food for the people, the beast meat for the pack animals and war beasts, and the tools needed for exploring and mining the veins? Where are all these things? You’ve just wasted two months here for nothing?”
Beneath the starlight, Ji Xia waved his long arms, his tone severe and imposing as he berated two sturdy men who lounged indifferently, utterly unconcerned by his words.

The two robust men wore metal armor, rare in the southern wilds, and powerful heavy longswords hung at their waists, radiating waves of magical energy. Yet faced with Ji Xia’s scolding, they responded only with arrogance, taking none of his words to heart.

“Ji Xia, your mouth is on your face—you can say whatever you like. In any case, these five thousand mining slaves—we’ve delivered them whole and intact into your hands. From now on, the mining of Cold Creek Valley and everything else is your business, not ours!”
They burst into loud laughter, whistled shrilly, and a gust of foul wind swept down from above. A few iron-clawed vultures, each with a wingspan of several yards, landed. The two men leaped onto the backs of the vicious birds, which took to the air with a savage beat of their wings, circling once before flying south toward Golden Crow Ridge.

Ji Xia raised his right hand high in anger, but did not act.
In the past, if anyone dared shirk the tribe’s tasks, he would have slapped them across the face after a scolding. But now, just as those two said, he was no longer the leader of the Fire Crow tribe’s warriors; what right did he have to chastise them?

Suddenly, a weight settled on his shoulder—Old Crow swooped down from the sky and perched on Ji Hao’s shoulder.
Ji Hao walked up behind Ji Xia, his gaze fixed coldly on the vultures dwindling in the sky. “Father, are they Ji Shu’s kin? Should we take them down?”
Old Crow let out a harsh caw, sparks spitting from the corner of its beak.

A blue shadow darted out of nowhere like a specter, waving a long arrow excitedly. “Hao is right—let’s take them down. At this distance, I only need one arrow to send them crashing half-dead to the ground!”

Ji Xia lowered his hand and slapped Ji Hao’s head with a gentle smile. “Stop with the crooked ideas. If they’ve done wrong, that’s their failing. We can’t break the tribal rules by taking the initiative to harm our own people.”

Ji Hao looked at Ji Xia’s gaunt face and recalled scenes from his fainted memories—Ji Xia shielding him from a deadly blow with his chest, the scorching blood splattering him, a sensation forever seared into his memory.

“Of course I won’t provoke them,” Ji Hao replied with a smile, turning to carefully survey the valley.

Starlight flowed like water, illuminating the landscape, and the moonlight provided a clear view. Ji Hao stood at the valley’s center. Cold Creek Valley stretched more than ten miles east to west, the widest point nearly two or three miles across. A mountain stream, over ten yards wide, deep and swift, ran through the heart of the valley. Along its banks, large natural gold and jade boulders could be seen.

The water was icy cold. Even from over a mile away, Ji Hao felt the chill seeping toward him. The frigid torrent scoured the gold and jade along its banks, producing a crisp, ringing sound. Under the starlight, the polished gold and jade gleamed with enchanting luster.

“It truly is an astonishingly rich vein,” Ji Hao exclaimed in genuine awe.

“It is,” Ji Xia replied with a frown. “After we arrived, your mother led an inspection; the veins here are shallow and easy to mine. In a year, we could expect hundreds of thousands of fine gold ingots and tens of thousands of jade blocks. But those scoundrels from Hundred Springs Mountain only delivered five thousand mining slaves and nothing else.”

The valley rang with the clamor of metal on stone.
Thousands of mining slaves chanted softly as they worked. Across the stream, a row of dozens of stilted wooden houses had already been erected.

Atop the cliffs, dozens of Fire Crow warriors were diligently carving into the rock, constructing watchtowers. Long mountain vines dangled from the cliff tops, hauling sturdy logs up the precipice.

At both ends of the valley, large numbers of warriors oversaw groups of mining slaves building earthen defensive walls. Thick logs formed the foundation on the ground, and as long as earth and stones were packed between the two rows of logs, a defensive wall strong enough to withstand beast assaults could be built.

Cold Creek Valley was the northernmost outpost of the Fire Crow tribe’s territory, surrounded by wild mountains teeming with fierce beasts and birds, and other unpredictable dangers. Without enclosing the valley with walls, many of the mining slaves would surely perish.

Light footsteps approached as Qing Fu led several warriors over at a brisk pace.
Seeing Ji Hao, Qing Fu smiled warmly, ruffling his hair affectionately before handing a fist-sized red jade block to Ji Xia. “Xia, the veins here yield more than ordinary gold and jade—I had some men dig down thirty feet and found this.”

Ji Hao eyed the red jade curiously. The crimson stone radiated intense heat, and within the semi-transparent gem, red liquid seemed to flow. Under the prismatic starlight, the jade reflected a dazzling, mysterious fire.

“Oh? Fire Jade Marrow? A treasure for those of us with fire bloodlines to rapidly increase our shamanic power—also an excellent material for forging shamanic artifacts and treasures.” Ji Xia’s eyes widened in delight. “If we offer this as tribute, one piece of Fire Jade Marrow is worth thousands of fine gold blocks, or hundreds of jade blocks.”

Qing Fu said gravely, “We must immediately inform the tribal shamans of this discovery. We’ll need more warriors stationed here. Also, at dawn, Xia, you and Ying must go hunting—thousands of mining slaves and so many warriors have no food at all.”

Ji Xia, Qing Fu, and several high-ranking warriors gathered to discuss how to manage Cold Creek Valley.

Ji Hao took the Fire Jade Marrow from Ji Xia, and cautiously probed it with his formidable spiritual power. Suddenly, his vision blurred as a wave of terrifying heat surged forth, making him feel as if he were submerged in molten lava—he nearly cried out in pain.

Ji Hao was both shocked and overjoyed. This was no ordinary Fire Jade Marrow—this was the peerless treasure, Fire Origin Crystal! In his previous life, Ji Hao had seen a Fire Origin Crystal the size of a thumb, less than one percent the size of this piece and of far inferior quality. Even for that tiny shard, hundreds of powerful cultivators had died in battle for it.

This truly was a priceless treasure—the Cold Creek Valley was a trove beyond measure.

Whoever could guard this valley well and deliver gold, jade, and Fire Jade Marrow to the tribe, both in quality and quantity, would earn immense merit. Would Ji Shu really be so generous as to hand over such an opportunity to Ji Xia for nothing?