Chapter 398 Slaying His Own Father and Daughter: The Evil Cultivator 4
Even though Ling Qing'an's talent is mediocre, and she is only a minor cultivator at the third level of Qi Refining, she can still sense the souls of mortals.
As a direct descendant of the Ling family, a direct descendant of a cultivation family, Ling Qing'an, under Ling Cang's protection, had access to quite a few resources from a young age.
The family's resources would be given priority to those with good talent, but her father would find ways to subsidize her.
Ling Qing'an's current Qi Refining Level 3 is due to her own efforts and the help of many treasures, but the cultivation of five spiritual roots is slow.
But even though she stayed at the mourning hall day and night, she couldn't see or sense her mother's soul. So there was only one possibility left: her mother's soul had vanished into thin air.
How could a mere mortal, an ordinary mortal, withstand a blow from a cultivator?
Ling Qing'an knew it in her heart, but she was unwilling to admit it.
She had to wait, wait for her father to emerge from seclusion, and wait for her mother's spirit to appear.
Unfortunately, some people won't even give her a chance to wait.
In her dream, Ling Qing'an saw her former family: her mother's warm embrace and her father's ever-smiling eyes.
Those were her parents, forever in love, their affection as deep as the sea.
But a sound shattered her dream.
"Gently! Lift it steadily!"
"Hurry up, this unlucky thing should have been sent away long ago!"
"Hurry up, it's better to bury him sooner."
Ling Qing'an suddenly woke up, and the scene in front of her made her furious.
Several uncles who usually ignored them were directing the servants in the mansion to lift their mother's coffin and walk unsteadily outside.
They were all cultivators, and could easily lift the coffin with their spiritual power with just a flick of their fingers, but now they were having servants carry it.
They didn't want to waste their spiritual energy on a mortal's coffin, so the coffin bounced up and down on the servant's shoulders, making it very unstable.
Even in death, there is no peace.
Stop! What are you doing?!
"Put my mother down! Who gave you permission to touch her!"
Ling Qing'an lunged forward, grabbing the edge of the coffin so tightly that her fingernails almost dug into it.
She had been guarding this place day and night for several days, like a little animal, and her eyes were already bloodshot.
Uncle Linghai frowned, forgetting that there was a disobedient little one. He spoke with a harsh expression, very impatient.
"Qing'an, don't be ridiculous! The dead cannot be brought back to life, how can the mourning hall be a place to linger?"
"Of course, we must ensure your mother is laid to rest."
Ling Qing'an's eyes were red. How could she not understand? These clansmen were secretly delighted that her mother was dead!
"To be buried in peace?"
My father is still in seclusion! How to handle my mother's funeral and where to bury her should be decided by my father after he comes out!
What gives you the right to make decisions on your own?!
Another uncle, Ling Chuan, snorted coldly. If it weren't for the fact that Ling Qing'an's surname was Ling and that he had spiritual roots, he would have buried him along with her.
"Just because you're a child! And just because we elders are in charge of the Ling family now!"
Your father is consolidating his Golden Core realm; how can he be disturbed by such mundane matters?
"Are you suggesting we leave your mother's coffin here to rot and stink, interfering with your father's spiritual practice? Take it away!"
Upon hearing this, the servant forcefully pried Ling Qing'an's hands apart.
She was, after all, just a young girl at the third level of Qi Refining; how could her strength compare to that of an adult servant?
He was easily torn apart and staggered, almost falling over.
As for the stench, cultivators have plenty of ways to prevent the bones from decaying, but nobody cares about it now.
"No! You're not allowed to take my mother away! I want to wait for my father to come out!"
Ling Qing'an lunged forward again, but was restrained by two servants who held her arms on either side, preventing her from moving.
She was a cultivator, but there were many cultivators present who were far more powerful than her.
Ling Hai watched her struggle, a hint of annoyance flashing in his eyes. He couldn't do anything in front of so many people, so he softened his tone and coaxed her.
"Qing'an, be good."
We know you're sad, but letting your mother rest in peace as soon as possible is also a relief for her.
As for your father, we'll discuss things once he comes out of the pass.
Even if he blames us, we'll take the blame.
"If you stop her now, that's truly unfilial; you're disturbing your mother's peace."
Ling Qing'an wasn't stupid; of course she knew these people had ill intentions. That's why she had to keep watch day and night, waiting for her father to emerge from seclusion before figuring out what to do.
"Let me go! You're robbers! I'm going to tell my father! He'll be furious!"
Tears blurred her vision as she watched her mother's coffin being carried out of the mourning hall, past the hanging white banners, and through the courtyard draped in white mourning clothes.
There wasn't a trace of sadness in the air.
Despair ensued; she was powerless to protect her mother's remains.
Elder Ling Song, now old and with white hair and beard, was usually taciturn. He watched as Ling Qing'an struggled desperately, tears streaming down her face.
Finally, he sighed, feeling somewhat reluctant, and spoke up.
"Never mind, she is still her biological mother after all."
Let her go with us, to see her off on her final journey.
Ling Hai and the others frowned. Bringing them along would only create more trouble, but seeing that Ling Song had spoken, they couldn't argue anymore.
He could only wave his hand impatiently.
"Take her with you! Keep a close eye on her, don't let her cause any more trouble!"
Ling Qing'an was half-dragged and half-pulled along behind the coffin-bearing procession as they walked out of the Ling family's grand gate.
There were no ceremonial processions or funeral music along the way, only a thin coffin and a few people, walking on the streets of Qingxi City in the early morning, attracting the curiosity of passersby.
It's too desolate, too hasty; it doesn't look like the death of the mistress or the principal wife at all.
The coffin-carrying procession hadn't gone far when it stopped on a barren slope not far from the Ling family cemetery.
This barren slope is overgrown with weeds and piled with rocks; it's clearly not a good place.
You can also see the Ling family ancestral tombs not far away, which are neatly repaired and full of spiritual energy.
Even ordinary mortals know to find a place with good feng shui to be buried when they die, but her mother was buried so hastily.
"Let's do it here, hurry up," Ling Chuan commanded.
A member of the clansmen who was at the Foundation Establishment stage casually made a hand seal, and a stream of earth-yellow spiritual energy slammed into the ground.
With a loud bang, a large crater appeared in the ground amidst a cloud of dust. They weren't going to waste their energy digging a pit.
After smashing a hole in the ground, the servants carried the coffin into the hole.
"No—! We can't be buried here!"
My mother is the wife of the head of the family! She should be buried in the ancestral graveyard! Buried in the ancestral graveyard!
Ling Qing'an was going crazy with anxiety. She struggled desperately, her spiritual power was weak, but she kept trying to break through the confinement.
But it was no use; she was still too weak.
The coffin containing her mother's remains was placed into the cold pit.
Everyone tacitly ignored her cries and struggles, instead urging the servants to bury her.
As long as everyone pretends not to have seen it, then it hasn't happened.
"Hurry up and fill in the soil!"
"Finally, this big problem is solved."
"Hurry up and bury it. We still need to take care of the family head's breakthrough to the Golden Core stage when we get back."
Some people are buried deep in the earth, their bones turned to dust, while others celebrate their breakthrough with great fanfare and decorations.
Each shovelful of yellow earth fell onto the coffin lid with a sound, each sound filling Ling Qing'an with despair; she cried until she was almost breathless.
But no one cared about what thirteen-year-old Ling Qing'an was thinking.
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