Chapter 112: Gathering the Immortal Herb

Previously, Zhang Pu had instructed Liu Yingde that, on the surface, all decisions would be made by him, giving the impression that Liu Yingde was the backbone of their team. Although Zhang Pu held a higher status as Liu Yingde’s junior uncle, in reality, everything was decided by Liu Yingde.

Thus, Zhang Pu left Liu Yingde to negotiate with Zheng Lan, Doctor Li, and the others about how to harvest the immortal herbs and how to divide them among the final group. Zhang Pu merely stood behind the scenes as a stabilizing presence.

There was little to discuss at this moment. The priority was to reach a consensus: the immortal herbs would be shared among all who came. How they would be arranged depended on whether the upcoming harvest would proceed smoothly.

Any disputes would be dealt with afterward.

When Zhang Pu saw the leader of that secretive group, he did not voice any objection.

Before them lay the Poison Dragon Pool, which appeared as calm and silent as it had been for centuries. It was as if no one had set foot here for hundreds of years.

Yet beneath this tranquility seemed to lurk some earth-shattering secret, weighing heavily on everyone’s minds.

Upon arriving, people felt as though invisible forces restrained them; none dared act rashly anymore.

“What a strange atmosphere,” Cai Hua whispered to her lover, Guang Cai, from a corner.

Guang Cai’s eyes were fixed intently on the sparse patches of immortal herbs in the distance—these herbs represented his chance to survive.

“It’s alright,” Guang Cai comforted her, “there are so many of us here, most skilled individuals. Nothing will happen.”

Though Guang Cai spoke confidently, deep down he was uncertain if everyone would come through unscathed.

He was here for survival. Yet he could sense that some people came for other reasons—greed and profit. Even Doctor Li could be described that way.

“Shall we test the waters first? Or wait until nightfall to set up camp here?” Doctor Li suggested.

In truth, Zheng Lan’s group was more impatient than him; only Old Yang showed remarkable patience.

Still, everyone understood that endless waiting was no solution.

What if that so-called Wulong never appeared and merely waited for them to approach the pool to ambush them? No one could say for sure.

As impatience grew, at the behest of the group, Old Yang and Liu Yingde began performing rituals according to their abilities.

During this time, Zhang Pu observed the leader of the secretive team, who seemed to regard Old Yang and Liu Yingde’s actions with disdain, as if dismissing them as mere charlatan tricks.

Zhang Pu was unconvinced. He believed some of their methods might actually be effective.

They stared at the deep pool opposite for a long while. As dusk approached, Old Yang and Liu Yingde declared it was time to act.

Some impatient ones suddenly charged forward recklessly, as if without thought.

Old Yang and Liu Yingde were convinced that the Wulong was either sleeping at the bottom of the water or was a myth.

Zhang Pu felt a twinge of doubt, but as most people surged forward to gather the immortal herbs, he was unafraid. He was far stronger than them. Even if the Wulong appeared, he was confident he could escape in time if he lost.

Amidst the chaotic scramble for the herbs, Zhang Pu maintained a vigilant watch in all directions.

He noticed that the leader of the secretive team, and even Zheng Lan, often directed their gaze at the pool rather than focusing on the herbs. They neither seemed confident their followers could secure any herbs, nor fearful of the legendary Wulong.

Zhang Pu analyzed quietly: these two teams appeared to desire more than just the immortal herbs.

Could they be after the Wulong itself?

To Zhang Pu, the Wulong was a priceless treasure, offering immense aid in cultivation. Not only could its body be used in various ways, but if possible, he wished to capture it as a pet. Yet, the Wulong’s immense size made that unrealistic given his current status and environment.

Were these people overestimating themselves, or were they prepared for this?

Without hesitation, Zhang Pu rushed forward and gathered two stalks of the immortal herb.

He had never seen such herbs on Earth.

These small plants resembled a kind of wild grass he had seen in his childhood, gathered by villagers as a sweet treat, though still unknown by name.

Yet the immortal herbs seemed to emit a faint glow, unlike the earthly grass. This was perhaps their fundamental difference—a world apart.

As for their specific uses, Zhang Pu would have to study further using his cultivation knowledge. However, he felt these herbs were inferior to some medicinal plants from the cultivation realm.

He did not regard the herbs highly; his focus remained on the legendary Wulong.

He ceased gathering herbs and concentrated his senses on the deep pool now just a stone’s throw away.

The surrounding area was barren; if the Wulong existed, its lair must surely be beneath the pool’s depths. After all, dragons belonged to water.

No wild beasts were nearby. It was unlikely they had been poisoned; more likely, they were simply unworthy prey for the Wulong.

The Poison Dragon Pool remained unnervingly calm, its surface undisturbed despite the uproar caused by the herb harvesters on its banks.

What of the Wulong? Zhang Pu mused wryly. Its herbs were nearly all plucked, yet it seemed indifferent.

Perhaps it was sleeping deeply, in a way unlike humans—maybe for several days or even weeks at a time.

To rouse such a slumber might require a special method. The noise from the herb gathering was mere trifling commotion, unlikely to disturb its dreams.

Yet upon reflection, Zhang Pu felt this did not quite align with his intuition.

He had yet to develop any far-seeing abilities, so his eyes could not penetrate the water to reveal what hid beneath.

Still, he resolved to put his instincts to the test next.