Chapter Thirty-Two: The Life of a Praying Mantis
"Brother Ji, these are some things you need to remember about our estate. As you happen to be literate, take some time to look them over."
Previously, the steward in charge of recruitment, surnamed Zhang, had become quite friendly with Ji Xun after receiving a couple of taels of demon silver from him.
"Thank you, Steward Zhang. I’m sure I’ll be troubling you in the future, and I hope you’ll be patient with me."
"Oh, don’t mention it, Brother Ji! We’re all on the same side here."
"In that case, I’ll take the liberty of calling you Brother Zhang."
"Ah, well, it’s not that I’m being fussy, but it’s fine to call me that in private when no one’s around. If someone overheard and reported it to the master, though, that could be problematic..."
"I see."
Ji Xun had already heard about Master Mo’s many rules before arriving and was well prepared for them.
After Steward Zhang left, Ji Xun examined the matters he needed to remember.
They were mostly common knowledge about planting, things Ji Xun was already familiar with—he’d grown Hundred-Beast Grass for several years and read a few books as well.
There were also some house rules of the Mo family. Spirit Field Manor was relatively lenient, but if one served in the main residence, life would be truly difficult.
Although Master Mo was kind and righteous, he had a particular flaw—he constantly styled himself as a great Confucian of the human race, imposing many tedious rules, yet he was excessively indulgent toward his own children and grandchildren.
...
That night, the pair of mantis forelimbs had already been refined into twin blades, yet the spiritual imprint upon them remained unchanged.
[Green Jade Mantis Blades: Profound-grade, middle quality, extremely hard and sharp; carries the spiritual imprint of the Green Jade Mantis, allowing the user to trace back some of the mantis’s experiences.]
In the next moment, Ji Xun, in a daze between waking and dreaming, found himself tracing the memories of the Green Jade Mantis.
...
The green mountains and clear waters were picturesque, and on an inconspicuous tree branch lay a large insect egg.
Suddenly, a tiny mantis crawled out, followed by another, and another.
In the end, over thirty mantises emerged before the egg was completely emptied.
At this point, Ji Xun’s consciousness wasn’t attached to any of the mantises; rather, he merely observed as a bystander.
This was likely due to the recent strengthening of the Demon Refining Gourd—he no longer needed to inhabit the creature.
As for events he’d rather not witness, he could simply skip them—such as Tiger Feather’s wedding night.
Even without attaching to a specific mantis, Ji Xun knew that the smallest one was the protagonist of this memory.
These mantises were all the color of jade, though the largest was only the size of a pinky finger.
Though that was larger than a real mantis, it was still far from the level of a demonic insect.
...
A few days later, all the surrounding eggs and edible things had been devoured, and the starving young mantises began to fight amongst themselves.
The mantis in question, however, chose to leave the area entirely.
Which was wise—had it joined the fray, its chances of survival would have been slim.
The fragmented vision shifted abruptly, and now the Green Jade Mantis was on the verge of reaching the ninth tier.
At this moment, it was fixated on a distant cicada.
In an instant, killing intent flared. The mantis darted forth, its forelimbs flashing like twin blades, cleaving directly into the cicada’s back.
This natural, instinctive movement was as refined as the martial skills of the human race.
Ji Xun was about to compliment its prowess when he saw the mantis clamp down and refuse to let go, abandoning any further technique.
So, in the end, primitive savagery prevailed.
After devouring the nearly ninth-tier cicada, the mantis finally broke through to the ninth tier.
Yet it still lacked true sentience—it was indeed a vicious insect.
In the days that followed, it used the same move to catch cicadas, growing more adept each time.
Ji Xun even suspected that if this Green Jade Mantis were human, it might eventually comprehend the essence of the blade.
A single skill can conquer the world—thanks to its cicada-catching technique, few in the mountains could match it.
But then, danger struck. The mantis’s signature move, utterly abandoning defense for pure offense, was fraught with peril.
The praying mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.
This time, abandoning all its primitive hunting methods, it seized every opportunity, both blades flashing in a strike of no return.
Using the cicada-catching technique, it now fought birds.
Soon, the palm-sized Green Jade Mantis was covered in wounds, but beside it lay a dead oriole.
From then on, it grew ever fiercer, using that single move to defeat foes of higher rank, again and again.
It was truly a prodigious Green Jade Mantis, for whom crossing ranks to slay enemies became routine.
Until one day, a mid-third-tier Deadleaf Mother Mantis appeared, abruptly ending its reign.
After mating, the Green Jade Mantis offered no resistance as the mother mantis bit off its head.
Yet, had it used its signature move, the mother might not have been its match.
Ultimately, its cultivation was too low; it couldn’t break free from instinct.
It’s worth noting that, according to Ji Xun’s experience with nature documentaries, male mantises aren’t always eaten by the female.
...
But this mother mantis was a true demon beast, her intelligence far beyond that of the male.
The poor, savage mantis was used for breeding and lost its life in the process.
In the next instant, the dream fragmented.
The Green Jade Mantis’s memories were so broken that Ji Xun didn’t bother discarding any—his consciousness returned straight from the Demon Refining Gourd to his body.
"Countless heroes throughout history have perished because of women—let alone a mere mantis," he mused.
Still, Ji Xun had gained something: that cicada-catching technique was etched into his mind.
With a slight modification, it could become a deadly killing move. If an insect could use it to slay birds, what could a person achieve with it...?
...
After drinking some honey water, Steward Zhang wore an expression of complete satisfaction.
"Brother Ji, have you decided which crop you want to grow from the booklet I gave you yesterday? Just let me know," Zhang said, now addressing Ji Xun as his peer.
"If possible, I’d like to cultivate the Thousand-Beast Vine," Ji Xun replied.
Steward Zhang nodded. "Good choice. But you’re following the Middle Profound path, right? You might not have enough demon energy to support some of the planting techniques..."
"Don’t worry, Brother Zhang. I’ve tended to similar Beast-Demon plants before. Even without those techniques, my yields won’t be lacking."
"In that case, how about this: you take over this plot for a month as a trial. How does that sound?"
"Agreed. Let’s do it."
...
The Mo family’s Spirit Field Manor was surrounded by a massive formation. Everyone entering or leaving had to pass inspection.
If anyone carried a storage artifact, the guards would swarm at once.
If a real threat appeared, the killing formation would activate, encircling and annihilating the intruder—no survivors were left.
This was one reason the Mo family cared little about the origins of their tenant farmers.
They held great power, maintained close ties with the Serpent Kingdom’s nobles, and spent untold sums each year to grease the wheels of influence. They had no fear of anyone coveting their estate.
Steward Zhang was only responsible for recruiting and assigning workers; the one who actually instructed newcomers in planting was a skinny old man known to all as Uncle Xu.
Uncle Xu’s hair was meticulously combed without a strand out of place, and his clothes were washed to the point of fading—a truly neat old fellow.
Uncle Xu said, "Whether it’s Hundred-Beast Grass, Hundred-Beast Ganoderma, Thousand-Beast Vine, or Thousand-Beast Ginseng, they all share certain characteristics..."