Longevity Begins with Internal Organs

After all, on this stormy and snowy late night, a person suddenly appears claiming to be a traveler.

No matter how you hear it, it sounds suspicious.

"I have no intention of disturbing you. I just want to camp in a sheltered place to rest for the night," Zhao Ya explained again.

The guards exchanged looks among themselves, then one of the older ones cupped his hands.

"Friend, I truly apologize. We’ve already occupied this area. Please move on and find another spot."

Zhao Ya slightly furrowed his brows.

This mountain hollow is quite spacious, and the caravan only occupies a corner, leaving the rest empty, yet they don’t allow others to camp here. It’s rather domineering.

However, Zhao Ya did not get angry.

After all, appearing suddenly in these desolate mountains, it’s normal for these people to be more vigilant.

But before Zhao Ya could speak, a man in his thirties emerged from a tent.

"Old Chen, let it be. It’s freezing cold; it’s hard enough for him to travel alone. Just let him camp nearby and rest."

"But boss, we don’t know this man’s background. What if he’s a spy for thieves?" the guard leader, Old Chen, said.

The man smiled, "On a snowy night like this, not even birds dare fly, thieves are holed up in their nests, who would come out?"

Saying so, the man cupped his hands towards Zhao Ya.

"My friend, I sincerely apologize. Ideally, I should invite you into our camp, but it’s inconvenient, so please make yourself comfortable."

Zhao Ya also smiled.

This man was not very old, but he was quite broad-minded.

So he returned the gesture.

"Thank you."

Then Zhao Ya, under Old Chen’s watchful eyes, chose a clean, sheltered corner to start setting up his camp.

Calling it a camp was an overstatement; it was merely a few deadwood pieces arranged into a triangular frame, with some oilcloth draped over.

After that, Zhao Ya quickly lit a bonfire and placed the dried rations he carried with him nearby to heat.

Even though Zhao Ya’s digestion ability was exceedingly strong due to his stomach’s innate talent, allowing him to digest food even if it was frozen solid,

who would want to gnaw on ice lumps if they could eat more comfortably?

Just as Zhao Ya was about to eat the heated rations, a guard suddenly approached, bringing two items.

"These are sent over by our boss."

Saying this, the guard placed the items on the ground and turned away.

One item was a roast chicken wrapped in dried lotus leaves, and the other was a small jar of wine.

Seeing this, Zhao Ya couldn’t help but look towards the caravan in the distance.

The man from earlier also gazed in this direction.

Zhao Ya smiled and cupped his hands.

"Thanks!"

The man waved back with a smile, then turned and returned to the tent.

Zhao Ya picked up the two items. Without eating them, just by smelling, he could tell they were fine.

The roast chicken had been pre-processed and just needed some heating.

Zhao Ya skewered it on a long stick, roasted it over the fire, then opened the wine jar and took a modest sip.

The wine was strong.

At least 70 degrees.

As it entered, it slid down like a heated blade through the throat.

But once it was in the stomach, it revitalized the whole body, dispersing quite a bit of cold.

From these two items, one could see the caravan had ample travel experience.

The roast chicken, once processed, could be stored for a long time and, when slightly heated, still tasted good.

Moreover, this high-proof alcohol could be consumed and also used for disinfection if injured; in crucial moments, it could even serve as an ignitor.

But why such an experienced caravan would risk traveling this route remains unclear.

However, Zhao Ya soon cast this doubt aside.

After all, everyone has secrets these days.

They were just casual acquaintances; there was no need to satisfy his curiosity.

By then, the roast chicken was heated, and Zhao Ya began devouring it.

Meanwhile, back at the camp, the guard leader Old Chen grudgingly said,

"Boss, I know you’re kind, but you shouldn’t let an unknown individual camp beside us. What if something happens?"

"Old Chen, I know you’re worried, but trust me, this man does not look like a spy, just a traveler."

"Besides, on a snowy night like this, if he misses this shelter, he might freeze to death."

"If you’re worried, have some men keep an eye on him."

Old Chen didn’t dare say anything more.

Just then, the guard who delivered the items walked in.

"The items have been delivered."

"Did he accept them?" the man asked.

"Not only accepted, but he’s already eating them."

The man was slightly stunned, then laughed, "See? If he were a spy, would he dare eat what we offered?"

Old Chen frowned slightly listening to this.

To him, daring to eat someone else’s food meant either inexperience or having something to rely on.

But could an inexperienced newcomer dare to venture into such desolate places?

He still found this suddenly appearing traveler peculiar.

So after the man returned to the tent, he called several guards and instructed, "Take shifts tonight, especially focusing on this mysterious traveler. Report any unusual activity."

"Understood!"

Night deepened.

The snowlightened a tad, but the wind kept howling.

Zhao Ya sat inside the tent made of oilcloth, listening to the wind roaring like a tiger outside, suddenly feeling a bit lonely.

Without Zui’Er at his side, he truly felt unaccustomed.

But soon, this feeling was interrupted by the Star Power Breathing Secret Technique.

Zhao Ya closed his eyes and meditated, slowly nurturing the Foundation of True Power within his Dantian.

Unlike other secret techniques, the cultivation of the Dantian Seed by Star-devouring True Power takes a long time.

This was in preparation for opening meridians and refining acupoints in the future.

Zhao Ya wasn’t in a hurry, as he had not entered the Fifth Realm for long, using the opportunity to hone his strength.

Yet, right then, Zhao Ya seemed to sense something, his ears twitched slightly, and he slowly opened his eyes.

The night outside was as dark as ink.

The campfire he previously lit had long gone out.

At that moment, Zhao Ya suddenly grabbed the Cold Iron Saber, stabbing it backward.

Thud.

The Cold Iron Saber pierced through the oilcloth, stabbing into something soft.

A groan and a body falling onto the ground could be heard from outside, but they were soon drowned by the wind.

Then Zhao Ya lifted the oilcloth and dashed into the darkness.

Behind the tent, a person lay, blood oozing beneath, frozen solid, dead.

Zhao Ya squinted slightly at the distant darkness, then glanced at the camp behind him.

"Forget it; consider it payment for the wine," he said.

With that, Zhao Ya vanished into the dark once more.

Meanwhile, not far from the mountain hollow, several men in black were lurking in a corner.

"What’s going on? We sent Old Three to scout, why hasn’t he returned?" someone said.

"He’s probably run into a patrol. These caravans are cautious now. Let’s wait a bit," someone else replied.

But they were completely unaware that a shadow had quietly approached.

In an instant, a glint of steel flashed.

The person lying furthest behind had his throat slit without a sound.

Blood bubbled out.

He clutched his throat, trying to shout, but couldn’t.

"Who’s there!"

The remaining men finally sensed something was amiss, drawing their weapons in defense.

But before they could even see Zhao Ya, they were swiftly taken down.

Ultimately, Zhao Ya pinned a man in black underfoot, coldly asking, "Who are you?"

The man in black was utterly terrified.

He hadn’t expected such a formidable individual amidst what seemed an ordinary caravan.

"S...Sir, we’re from the Black Wind Stronghold not far ahead. Earlier today, we saw your caravan pass by and came to investigate," he stammered.