"This job is really not for humans."
A squad of soldiers approached from afar, their hushed conversations faintly audible.
One seemed to complain, grumbling, "What a cold night! It'd be so much better to warm a pot of wine at home, snuggle with my wife in bed!"
The climate in Chongyuan Prefecture was rather cold. While there weren't vast expanses of water, it felt intensely damp and chilly throughout the year, turning into winter as soon as night fell.
Only those who practiced martial arts, with their abundant qi and blood, could move freely in the dead of night clad in mere thin garments.
However, this meant they had to endure the cold constantly. Without a cultivation realm of at least level one, it was difficult to ward off the chill.
Thus, over ten soldiers casually gathered firewood from their surroundings, scavenged some dilapidated furniture, and then arrived at the small courtyard where Zhao Yunsong and his companions were located, igniting several bonfires.
With the warmth of the flames and a few sips of the strong liquor they carried, the group of ordinary soldiers felt a pleasant warmth spread through their bodies.
Even the three early-stage level one martial artists leading the squad wore expressions of comfort.
"Captain, what do you think the higher-ups are really thinking?"
By the bonfire, the soldiers gnawed on their dry rations, grumbling with dissatisfaction.
They found it incomprehensible why they, of all people, were tasked with searching for cultivators who seemed like deities.
Those exalted Grand Masters, they believed, could probably kill them with a mere flick of a finger. Even if they did find something, they would likely not survive to report back.
"Do you think those big shots truly believe that if we found anything, we could survive to bring back the news and earn merit?"
The squad leader sneered, glancing back in the direction they came from, as if he could see the important figures in the city.
He spat on the ground and said dismissively, "They're just using our lives to confirm if there are enemies in this area!"
If there were enemies, they would naturally be doomed. The deaths and disappearances of a squad of soldiers would be enough for those in power to ascertain many things.
The soldiers present were not foolish. Their captain's few words instantly illuminated the meaning behind it all.
Yet, after a wave of resentment and anger, everyone fell silent, staring into the bonfire without a word, merely sipping the liquor from their canteens.
Sometimes, even when they understood such matters, they had no other path but to comply.
To dare desert their post would bring repercussions upon their families in the city.
Moreover, the entire Fengming Commandery had already been occupied by rebels. Where could ordinary mortals like them possibly escape to?
"I hope we don't encounter any of those deities."
The squad captain sighed.
He was the strongest among them, having once been a caravan guard. However, with the rebels occupying Fengming Commandery, all martial artists were forcibly conscripted into the army.
The captain, now in his mid-thirties, sighed and entered a nearby room. He casually spread his bedding on a pile of dry grass and was about to go back out to gather some firewood for a hearth.
Even a level one martial artist couldn't stay in the cold wind all night; they still needed a windbreak, and a warm fire would be even better.
As a flame ignited, the small room was briefly illuminated, and a wave of warmth spread.
"Hmm?"
The man suddenly frowned, noticing a small pile of dirt in the center of the room.
He kicked it a few times and saw remnants of burned wood, even a few sparks.
The next moment, despite standing by the fire, he felt a chill run through him. The warm flames seemed to offer no solace.
He took a deep breath, slowly turned around, and saw several young men in the corners of the room, their appearances disheveled but their eyes burning with killing intent.
Their gazes met, and neither side made any immediate move.
After a long pause, the captain gritted his teeth and strode towards the room's door.
His action naturally caused the gazes fixed upon him to sharpen considerably.
*Crack!*
As the door was slammed shut, the pressure on him receded like a tide. The icy killing intent vanished without a trace.
"Esteemed masters, would you care for a drink to warm yourselves?"
The captain returned to the bonfire, taking out a new waterskin. The liquor within had not been touched.
Zhao Yunsong pondered for a moment, then emerged from the ostensibly dark corner and sat by the warm bonfire, reaching out to accept the waterskin.
After a brief inspection to confirm it was not poisoned, he tilted his head and took several deep gulps.
For cultivators of level two, they could resist ordinary cold and heat by circulating their internal energy. However, for the few with limited spiritual energy, they were reluctant to expend it in this place.
Now, with a few swigs of strong liquor, a warmth began to spread through their bodies.
Zhao Yunsong cast a glance at his two other disciples, then waved them over, handing them the strong liquor.
He then took out a silencing talisman, ensuring that the sounds within the room would not leak out.
"Your actions surprise me."
He had been prepared to kill this squad of soldiers entirely. Although their whereabouts would be exposed shortly afterward, allowing these men to leave would likely lead to an even faster exposure.
"I don't want to die, and those outside don't want to die either."
The captain thought for a moment and said with a wry smile, "We were all conscripted. We just wanted to earn a living. There's no need to throw our lives away."
Furthermore, everyone had a family, and many even had wives and children.
"When dawn breaks, I will lead these men away and continue searching for traces of visiting cultivators."
The captain looked at the three before him and asked with a questioning tone, "Nothing happened tonight. I just went into the room to sleep, and I didn't see anyone?"
Hearing this, Zhao Yunsong slowly nodded, agreeing to the man's statement.
However, he still waved his hand, channeling a stream of spiritual energy to retrieve a wooden token from the man's embrace. The front of the token read: "Maoyang City Garrison, Cao Yan."
The back of the token indicated his place of residence.
After idly playing with the token that represented his military identity for a while, he tossed it back into the man's embrace.
Although this method was somewhat base, using the man's family as a threat, given their current predicament, it was unavoidable.
They were unwilling to commit wanton slaughter, yet they also had to ensure their own movements remained undetected.
"There is still plenty of time tonight. Why not tell me some of what you know?"
Zhao Yunsong took a couple of sips of the strong liquor and said with interest, "I'm quite fond of a good story."