# 96
Chapter 96 – Extreme Training
Is this guy sick in the head?
Lin Qiye’s gaze toward Cao Yuan turned odd.
He had never been afraid to judge people with the worst possible motives; when someone suddenly started fawning on him for no reason, it was hard not to be suspicious.
“I don’t get it.” Lin Qiye shook his head. “Just because I can stop you when you’re in your demon-rampage state?”
“You can also cleanse my sins and let me reach perfect merit.” Cao Yuan pressed his palms together and softly chanted a Buddhist mantra.
Lin Qiye frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Cao Yuan’s face dimmed, a flash of grief in his eyes. After a long silence he spoke slowly:
“I carry the lives of 333 innocent people who died horribly—blood light pierces the sky, my killing sin is as vast as the sea… only you can dissolve this guilt and spare me from the torment of karmic fire.”
“You killed 333 people?” Baili Pangpang’s eyes bulged. “Were you… a bandit before?”
“…No.”
“Then what did you do?”
Cao Yuan stared at his own nose and heart, head lowered, saying nothing.
Lin Qiye spoke quietly: “Sorry, I don’t have the power to absolve anyone’s sins. You should look for a monk.”
“I did.” Cao Yuan looked straight at Lin Qiye. “For seven years I chanted sutras on Jiuhua Mountain, meditating in silence, yet the blood light around me never faded… the Great Master Jincan said only one person could help me cleanse my sins and achieve perfect merit.”
“He gave you my ID number?” Lin Qiye asked weirdly.
“…No, but it amounts to the same.” Cao Yuan’s voice was calm. “‘Two trees stand as one, eight gods minus one, ten years into night, ferry all the world’… isn’t that exactly the name Lin Qiye?”
Lin Qiye showed no reaction to the first two lines, but when he heard “ten years into night, ferry all the world” his expression gradually turned grave.
Ten years into night—did it refer to the ten years he’d been blind, or to the ten-year promise he’d made with Zhao Kongcheng to join the Night Watch?
If the former, Cao Yuan had simply investigated him thoroughly; if the latter… when he made that vow no one else had been present—how could the Great Master Jincan have known?
“My answer’s the same: I won’t help anyone avert calamity.” Lin Qiye shook his head.
“Maybe you can’t now, but I believe the future you will.”
“You believe in me that much?”
“I believe in Great Master Jincan.”
Lin Qiye stared at Cao Yuan for a long while, then sighed in resignation. “Suit yourself, but I’m making no promises.”
The corners of Cao Yuan’s mouth lifted slightly. As if remembering something, he held out the dish of pickled vegetables to Lin Qiye.
“Eat some pickles.”
Lin Qiye hesitated, then grabbed a pinch and stuffed it into his white steamed bun, taking a big bite.
Cao Yuan showed a contented smile.
“That smile screams ‘simp’…” Baili Pangpang muttered. Shameless, he leaned over to grab some pickles too.
Cao Yuan’s face changed; he slapped his hand over the dish. “Scram.”
“Just one bite! If Qiye can eat it, why can’t I? So stingy…” Baili Pangpang pouted.
“These are all for Lin Qiye,” Cao Yuan said flatly.
Baili Pangpang moved pitifully in front of Lin Qiye. “Qiye, tell him—does your Baili Pangpang deserve your pickles or not?”
“No.”
“…My Rolex…”
“Hmm… a small bite is fine.”
With Lin Qiye’s permission, Cao Yuan could only watch, aggrieved, as Baili Pangpang cackled and dug in, while he himself gnawed raw meat in silence.
Baili Pangpang, one hand on bun, the other shoveling pickles, stood triumphantly in front of Cao Yuan, munching and snickering like a favored concubine who’d finally seized power.
“Everyone—attention!!”
While they were eating, Instructor Hong strode into the canteen with two other instructors, his voice booming.
Everyone set down their buns at once—except Baili Pangpang, who crammed an extra mouthful and stood at attention, cheeks puffed like a hamster.
Instructor Hong’s sharp gaze swept the room.
“This afternoon is your first extreme training! After lunch, assemble behind the canteen! Understood?!”
“Understood!” the recruits answered.
Instructor Hong nodded. “A word of advice: the afternoon will be brutal… finish the food on your tables.”
The three instructors turned and left; chatter resumed.
“Extreme training? What the heck?” Baili Pangpang mumbled, still chewing.
“No idea,” Cao Yuan said.
“Let’s clear the table first.” Lin Qiye eyed the doorway the instructors had exited and sighed. “This afternoon is going to be hell…”
…
When the three finished eating they headed straight behind the canteen. Several black coaches were already parked there, destination unknown.
“We’re leaving camp?” Baili Pangpang’s eyes lit up hopefully.
“Leaving camp isn’t necessarily good,” Lin Qiye murmured, brows knit.
“Why not?”
“It means the facilities here can’t meet the ‘extreme’ requirements anymore.” Zhong Zheng—special-forces background—had appeared behind them without a sound.
“You’ve done this kind of training?”
“No idea if Night Watch boot camp is the same as the army, but… the afternoon won’t be as easy as morning. Conserve your strength.”
He brushed past Lin Qiye, leapt lightly into the lead coach and vanished from sight.
Lin Qiye pondered but still couldn’t guess what “extreme training” meant; he stopped thinking, boarded behind Zhong Zheng, Baili Pangpang and Cao Yuan following.
Once full, the five black coaches rumbled out of the camp gates and sped into the wilderness.
After half an hour they stopped.
Lin Qiye, dozing, opened his eyes, glanced outside, and froze.
“Jinnan Mountain?” A local of Cangnan City, he recognized the lush range at once.
Cangnan sat on the southeastern plains of Great Xia—no famous peaks nearby. Jinnan was only about four thousand meters, nothing majestic, but it was ringed by smaller hills that wrapped it into a modest chain—big enough, small enough.
And it was wild: undeveloped border country with a single tiny cableway on the summit that saw few visitors even in peak season—an ultra-niche spot.
When the coaches halted, Instructor Hong stood, turned to the recruits, and flashed a cruel grin.
“Everyone—off the bus!”