Chapter 281: Ritual Money, Old Capital (8)
Because Baizhi Lake was located in such a remote area, there was no guarantee of a stable signal.
Given that the previous group, led by the official in charge, had entered the deserted village only to lose all contact, Taoist Li and the others took every necessary precaution beforehand. They thoroughly briefed the abbot on all critical points to prevent a situation where, at the most crucial moment involving the blood medicine, they wouldn’t be able to reach anyone.
The Taoists simply told the abbot not to worry about them and to focus on protecting the people in danger in the Southwest and within Binhai City.
Yet the abbot would have preferred them to talk more about themselves.
Because if something really did go wrong, that phone call might very well have been their last in this lifetime.
And yet, those heading into battle didn’t leave even a single word of farewell.
“Hey…”
Hearing that the call was about to end, the abbot anxiously opened his mouth. But when the Taoist on the other end asked in confusion, the abbot suddenly fell silent again.
After a brief pause, he merely sighed and said, “Let’s each focus on our tasks and not worry about one another,” before hanging up the phone.
Meanwhile, Haiyun Temple was already packed with people who had come to take shelter and with the wounded.
The noise in the courtyard reignited the abbot’s resolve. He strode forward in large steps and quickly gave clear instructions, helping the flustered young acolytes get everything in order. Within minutes, the entire courtyard was running like a well-oiled machine.
The young acolyte blinked up at him, his eyes filled with admiration.
But not everyone was at ease. One young man, dragged in by his family from the foot of the mountain, still couldn’t relax. He kept searching for something to use as a weapon, tightly gripping a giant broom meant for sweeping leaves. He was jumpy, reacting nervously to the slightest sound.
“Mom, is this really going to work? Maybe we should go somewhere else.”
The young office worker held the broom protectively in front of his family and asked his mother worriedly, “I thought you were taking me somewhere serious. Why’d we end up at a temple fair? With everything going on, you’re still thinking about drawing lots and praying for love? I know it’s tradition to push for marriage during New Year’s, but can we prioritize staying alive first?”
He was still dressed in his work clothes—his shirt wrinkled and dusty, his once-gelled hair sticking up in disarray.
From the looks of it, he’d only just gotten off work when the crisis with the wooden statues began. He’d clearly encountered a lot of danger while protecting his family on the run to Haiyun Temple.
His mother was stunned at first by his words, then she burst into laughter, joined by the amused chuckles of those nearby.
“You silly boy, did you really think Haiyun Temple is for matchmaking?”
She gave him a playful smack and couldn’t hold back her smile. “When I was just a little girl, the Taoists from Haiyun Temple once saved me. This place is famous. Otherwise, what do you think keeps those summer typhoons from doing any real damage? Big thunder, little rain—it’s not luck.”
The young man looked puzzled and questioned, “What else could it be? Typhoons change course because of the weather. Don’t tell me you think Haiyun Temple has something to do with that?”
“Oh come on, Mom, it’s the 21st century. Can you stop with the mystical nonsense? We should believe in science.”
His mother was both amused and annoyed. “You’re so stubborn! You criticize me for not believing in science, but how come you can’t accept spirituality either?”
Although Haiyun Temple was spacious, with the temple doors thrown wide open to accept anyone in need, it quickly became packed—like a subway at rush hour.
The crowd was shoulder-to-shoulder, leaving barely any room to breathe.
Even though the mother and son were speaking softly, their exchange was clearly heard by those around them.
Everyone took note of the deep care in their conversation. Most of the people who had chosen to take refuge in Haiyun Temple during such a crisis were older and had experienced things in the past that made them trust the place. That’s why they had brought their younger relatives along.
Many could relate to the mother’s perspective.
For a moment, the soft laughter of strangers blended together.
Some older folks warmly patted the young man on the shoulder and said, “Don’t worry, son. You’re absolutely safe here at Haiyun Temple.”
“Ah, young people nowadays don’t know the half of it. Haiyun Temple wasn’t originally famous as a tourist spot for things like fortune-telling or matchmaking or worshipping the moon god… What I know about Haiyun Temple is its famous formations and effectiveness. If you’re talking about real cultivation, this is the place.”
“Exactly! Haiyun Temple became well-known long before the younger generation started coming here as tourists.”
“Ah, when my grandkid grows up, he probably won’t even remember the spiritual part of this place. Just the temple fairs and market stalls. All fun and games.”
“Do you have stone statues at home too?”
One elderly man grabbed the office worker’s sleeve and couldn’t help but pour out his own complaints: “Ah, same here. Just the other day I brought home a stone statue for a fountain, and now this mess happened! My wife kept hitting me while we were running—ow ow ow, okay, okay, I was wrong! That hurts!”
Before he could finish his story, an elegant elderly lady who had just made her way back through the crowd after confirming her best friend was safe, overheard him and immediately rolled up her sleeve to pinch his ear. The old man instantly stopped complaining and stood like a docile rabbit being held up by the ears.
He even whispered to her not to ruin her new manicure.
The elderly lady gave a ladylike snort, rolled her eyes, fixed her shawl, and turned to the still-bewildered young office worker.
“Don’t worry one bit, when my mother and brother were kids, they were both saved by the Taoists of Haiyun Temple. As long as we don’t make trouble for them, we’ll be fine.”
“Don’t be afraid of ghosts. People fear ghosts a little, but ghosts fear people even more. If you’re not afraid of them, they can’t harm you.”
Seeing the young man look as if this grandma had just shattered his entire worldview, his mother burst out laughing.
The office worker scratched his head in embarrassment and nodded. “Got it. So you’re saying Haiyun Temple isn’t some trendy romantic place with pink filters all over Instagram, but more like… Shaolin Monks style?”
Everyone nodded in approval.
Only the nearby young acolyte, who had been curiously eavesdropping, looked exasperated: Calling the Taoists here monks? You must be friends with that director Zhang Wubing, right? He said Haiyun Temple was a monastery where everyone’s single. Are you all just here to mess with us?
Thanks to that lighthearted interlude, strangers quickly became familiar and began chatting about their own experiences.
“We had a stylish ornament in our living room. Who’d have thought it would come to life?”
The mother still looked shaken as she recounted, “If my son hadn’t been working late and come home at midnight, our whole family would’ve been fast asleep by nine like usual. We would’ve never noticed a thing.”
The young white-collar worker also recalled the scene he had witnessed when he first returned home.
He had originally tiptoed his way toward the kitchen in the dark, trying not to wake his sleeping parents. Starving, he just wanted to make a bowl of noodles. But as he passed his parents’ bedroom, he unexpectedly saw a shadowy figure standing at the head of their bed.
Bathed in the multi-colored glow coming through the window, he was horrified to see that the blurry silhouette was holding a kitchen knife raised high, poised to strike.
He thought a burglar had broken in. Shouting, he leapt forward and tackled the figure to the ground, frantically trying to wrestle the knife away.
It was only then that he realized the figure wasn’t a thief at all.
It was the plastic statue he had bought a few months ago and placed in the living room.
A cold sweat broke out all over his body.
The plastic statue felt no pain. Even if its arm or head was hacked off, it could still chase people down. Nothing seemed to work against it.
Although the young man was deeply confused about what exactly that thing was, he hurriedly grabbed his parents and tried to flee.
But once they got outside, the previously quiet street was already filled with cries for help, screams, the sound of shattering glass, and ongoing fights. The red and blue flashing lights on the street only heightened the tension.
He had initially planned to take his parents to the local authorities for help. But along the way, whenever he saw someone in need, he couldn’t ignore it and reached out to help. Unknowingly, he found himself veering toward Haiyun Temple.
Seeing this, his parents decisively took the lead and dragged him along to Haiyun Temple. It was only then that he was shocked to discover how many people were also running in that direction.
Once everyone started talking over one another, sharing their own experiences, they began comparing stories—only to realize that all the incidents had happened in households with human-shaped statues.
Even the once staunchly atheist young man couldn’t help but start to waver.
Could it really be the work of ghosts? How else could one explain statues coming to life?
Just as the young man stood there in utter confusion, he saw a small child pushing their way through the crowd. The effort was as difficult as getting off a subway train during rush hour.
The child’s cheeks puffed up in anger—round, pale, and chubby—and he stubbornly clenched his little fists.
Still, his child-sized Taoist robe clearly revealed his identity.
At first, because the young acolyte wasn’t even as tall as most people’s waists, no one had noticed him.
Once they did, the crowd quickly made way, clasping their hands in gratitude and thanking him for Haiyun Temple’s help in such a dire time.
“No need,”
The young acolyte said, pressing his lips together. Despite his serious expression, his baby-fat cheeks gave him a forced-adult cuteness that made everyone smile.
“There aren’t enough people at the temple right now. Even the kitchen masters have gone out. We don’t have much to eat—just some leftover holiday porridge. If anyone needs some, just go to the kitchen and queue up.”
He looked a bit embarrassed as he added, “We’re the only ones left to manage things. If the porridge doesn’t taste good…”
He lowered his head and said shyly, “Then just don’t tell me.”
Everyone was first surprised, then burst out laughing thanks to the young acolyte’s charm.
Even the young white-collar worker gradually lowered his guard and loosened his grip on the broom he had been clutching.
The young acolyte noticed this and, with a blank expression, demanded the broom back. He asked curiously, “Why are you holding the broom we use to clean the toilets at our temple?”
The young man: “!!!”
The people nearby: Uh-oh!
Everyone quickly stepped aside, and the young man hurried to throw the broom away.
The young acolyte nodded solemnly and picked up the broom, which was taller than he was. Seeing the young man startled out of his wits, he was finally satisfied and said, “Oh, my mistake. This one’s for sweeping fallen leaves.”
He stuck out his tongue: That’s what you get for saying we’re warrior monks. Hmph.
The abbot, while speaking on the phone, noticed the tense atmosphere in the courtyard gradually easing.
He watched the laughter and good cheer from afar and was infected by the mood himself. Smiling, he asked those nearby, “How come this child… after meeting Fellow Taoist Yan twice, has started acting more and more like him?”
Someone stroked their chin and said thoughtfully, “You know, you’re right. I was wondering why he seemed less and less like his master lately.”
“Fellow Taoist Yan, huh…”
The person shook their head with a laugh. “What is this? Charisma rubbing off?”
Mentioning Yan Shixun made the abbot visibly worried. “Fellow Taoist Yan and the others disappeared first at Baizhi Lake, and we haven’t heard anything since. Then there’s Taoist Ma and Taoist Wang too… I don’t know what’s happened to them. I just hope they’re all safe.”
“May the Three Pure Ones protect us and turn misfortune into blessings,”
Someone nearby murmured, sighing earnestly as they hoped those at the frontline at Baizhi Lake could quickly resolve everything.
All the Taoists in Haiyun Temple were so busy their feet barely touched the ground. Even the lay disciples responsible for chores didn’t have time for a sip of water.
Naturally, that meant no one had time to keep an eye on the mother and son who had originally been left in the temple as visitors.
Seizing the moment when no one was watching, the young man helped his mother climb out through the back window. They crept along like thieves, terrified of being discovered and unable to leave.
Luckily, there were so many people in the temple at that point that no one noticed them slipping out.
Those who did catch sight of them were puzzled—why were these two heading away from Haiyun Temple while everyone else was running toward it?
But in such a time of crisis, nobody had the energy to be curious. They just wondered about it briefly, then turned their attention back to themselves.
And so, the mother and son were able to leave Haiyun Temple with ease and return to Binhai’s urban district.
The streets were eerily quiet, with bits of debris scattered about—likely dropped by people fleeing in panic and too rushed to pick them back up.
After the initial chaos, thanks to the efforts of special departments and the Taoists from Haiyun Temple, order had been restored quickly. People were being organized in an orderly fashion to stay away from danger.
Places like the streets, which were open and exposed, were no different from being sitting ducks. Naturally, no one wanted to remain in such areas.
The mother and son had no idea what had actually happened earlier. Seeing the current scene—strangely desolate, but not at all like the abbot had warned—they couldn’t help but feel like: “So we were tricked after all.”
The young man even stretched out his arms and took in a deep breath, feeling the joy of regaining his freedom.
In his mind, he was already planning to stop by the store for some snacks on the way home, then game all night to wash off the bad vibes from Haiyun Temple.
Meanwhile, the Taoists sent out from Haiyun Temple were still busy rescuing people in residential neighborhoods and alleys. The temple itself remained in a flurry of activity.
No one noticed where the mother and son had gone.
Although the mother felt an inexplicable sense of unease, it was, after all, the early hours of the morning. The streets were deserted, which seemed logical enough, so she didn’t pay it much mind.
“My son is so smart. Otherwise, we’d still be putting up with those people at Haiyun Temple. I never realized back when I used to go there to burn incense and pray that they were such morally corrupt individuals.”
“At least this time we’ve seen their true colors. They’ll never get another cent out of me! The few hundred yuan I donated before? I’ll just count it as charity for beggars.”
After venting her anger, the mother turned and praised, “You really are my son.”
The young man puffed up his chest and boasted, “Don’t worry, Mom. I recorded the video of that young acolyte hitting me. Tomorrow during the day, I’ll upload it online. Let everyone see what Haiyun Temple is really like.”
“What kind of internet-famous temple? Hah! Just a bunch of con artists who hurt people and steal their money.”
The young man smirked proudly. “I’m actually doing a public service—helping others avoid a pitfall, haha.”
“My son is amazing!”
The two of them walked home, chatting happily.
But they didn’t notice that, in the shadows at the corner of the street, a stiff face was hidden in the darkness—ghastly pale with unnaturally flushed cheeks, blank eyes staring dead ahead at the mother and son.
In every shadowy turn of the alley, faint human shapes loomed—indistinct, flickering in and out of sight.
………
“Grandmaster, the Abbot is on the phone.”
A Taoist respectfully said to Taoist Li, “I’ve already reported everything the Abbot needs to know. There’s no need to worry about what’s happening outside.”
Taoist Li casually nodded, never shifting his attention away from the exorcist from the Southwest standing beside him.
Even though Taoist Li was the most advanced cultivator among them, he still lacked the firsthand familiarity with the Southwest that a native-trained exorcist would have.
Besides, this particular exorcist had personally approached them and, in a rare exception, had been permitted to join them in entering such a high-risk area. His sect had even taken part in two significant modern incidents in the Southwest.
One was the reconstruction of talismanic techniques based on the Yansheng Art, which allowed the countless spirits—who couldn’t reincarnate and had become overcrowded in the Southwest—to be placed inside puppets with living mouths and eyes. By giving form to the spirits, they were able to cleanse them in one decisive action, eliminating the threat to the common people.
The other was when this exorcist’s master had assisted Li Chengyun in the suppression of Baizhi Lake back then.
Either event held great significance for the current situation.
The Southwest exorcist, feeling all eyes on him—especially from the famously powerful Taoists of Haiyun Temple, who were said to summon wind and rain and conjure armies from beans—immediately grew bashful, his voice shrinking to almost nothing.
He looked around at the group—every single one of them was someone he’d only seen before at grand Taoist conventions or major rituals, people of great fame and reputation.
Even leaders of other sects in the Southwest would treat any one of these Taoists with deep respect.
Yet now, these big shots had all appeared right beside him, encircling him, watching him closely…
The exorcist suddenly felt like a clueless newbie who had somehow snuck into a group of legendary figures.
Noticing his unease, Taoist Li let out a snort, raised his hand, and smacked him hard on the back with a resounding smack!—the force straightened his hunched spine instantly.
“Stand tall. Be confident!”
Taoist Li said disdainfully, “I should’ve brought my grand-disciple along to show you. You two would complement each other nicely—he knows nothing but walks around all day grinning with confidence, while you’ve already graduated, you’re a capable exorcist, yet still lack confidence. Tsk.”
Taoist Li figured that if Lu Xingxing had this exorcist’s skills, his tail would’ve curled up to the heavens by now.
Hunched over? Bent spine?
Lu Xingxing would’ve had eighteen flags made, listing every skill he possessed, tied them to his back, and strutted down the street. He’d probably have a loudspeaker hanging from his waist announcing all his achievements—how excellent and amazing he was.
Taoist Li: How did I end up with such a cocky grand-disciple? He might as well go train to sing opera.
The Southwest exorcist was first stunned, then his face flushed red, his eyes glistening with tears.
His master had passed away early. At the time, he was young and hadn’t yet completed his training. Ever since then, he had been underestimated and ignored by other exorcists. No one had ever treated him with this level of attention and care.
Let alone someone like Taoist Li, a figure revered by all exorcists, who not only noticed his emotional state but even comforted him…
The exorcist felt a sourness in his heart, but his fighting spirit surged.
He suddenly understood why his master had chosen to sacrifice himself to help Hermit Chengyun back then. He also finally grasped the meaning behind the phrase: “A man will die for one who truly understands him.”
His master had made that choice because Hermit Chengyun had trusted him and entrusted him with such great responsibility—so even knowing the danger, he had followed without hesitation.
After all, Hermit Chengyun had been a wandering scholar, respected across the land, with friends everywhere.
Even after disappearing for many years, countless revered figures still remembered him and worried about his well-being. Even now, anyone invoking Hermit Chengyun’s name when seeking help would surely find support from all directions.
That was the kind of charisma Hermit Chengyun had left in everyone’s hearts.
The exorcist recalled reading that line before but never understanding it—until now. Just because Taoist Li had treated him with such care and encouragement tonight, he resolved to give it his all!
Victory or death!
“Later, I reviewed the situation my master was in back then. Hermit Chengyun had specifically been seeking the puppets with living mouths and eyes. Our sect records mention that one of the craftsmen skilled in that technique had the surname Zheng.”
The exorcist spoke sincerely. “When the official in charge asked before, I only knew that the last known artisan who could make those puppets was Carpenter Zheng. But he moved away later, and no one knows where his family went.”
The more Taoist Li and the others listened, the deeper their frowns became.
According to the exorcist, the original reason for designing puppets with living mouths and eyes was twofold. First, because the resemblance to humans made them more attractive to wandering spirits. At times, a single puppet could house seven or eight ghosts, which greatly increased the efficiency of the exorcists.
Second, it allowed for control over the puppets.
The mouth and eye mechanisms were internal but could be controlled externally—by the exorcists themselves.
This way, they didn’t have to worry about the puppets being overtaken by ghosts once they were filled.
But now, the control system once designed for the exorcists had ironically become a weakness—under the current dominance of ghostly forces, it made it even easier for ghost energy to take control of the puppets.
The Taoist couldn’t help but grow concerned. “Since your master’s last known location was Baizhi Lake, and Hermit Chengyun also came here, then it seems likely that the missing carpenter Zheng ended up in the village next to Baizhi Lake.”
However, even back then, the evil spirit had already grown powerful enough to kill the exorcist’s master. Now, after all these years—and with the influence of the Ghost Dao…
Even though the Taoist had mentally prepared himself, he still couldn’t suppress the chill that crept over him.
While they talked, the group had already arrived at the deserted village beside Baizhi Lake.
The outline of the village faintly emerged in the darkness. The records stated the village had been abandoned for years due to a massacre that wiped out all its inhabitants.
But upon entering, they found it wasn’t nearly as dilapidated as expected. At most, it seemed a little wild and overgrown due to lack of maintenance. Some brick walls and rooftops had collapsed.
It resembled the poor rural villages the Taoist had visited before—far better than what he had imagined.
“This doesn’t look like a place completely devoid of people.”
One of the Taoists crouched down and carefully examined the sandy ground. He pointed at some faint footprints. “There are still traces of shoe prints here—and they clearly weren’t left by the officials.”
The Taoist knew well that officials on field duty typically wore practical boots, but these prints looked like those of traditional cloth shoes—not the kind sold in markets, but the homemade kind people stitched at home.
This village had been wiped out decades ago. None of the people who came today would’ve been wearing shoes like that.
The Taoist speculated: either the villagers somehow remained “alive” through animated wooden carvings with preserved features, or someone from another village had come to visit.
Either possibility made the Taoist tense with vigilance.
Once they entered the area covered by the Ghost Dao, everyone could clearly feel their inner power being suppressed. Their breathing became labored, like fish thrown onto dry land.
One Taoist joked, “Never thought I’d live to experience what it feels like to be a ‘ghost.’ Is this what spirits feel when they hide among the living?”
The Taoist next to him gave a bitter smile. “I’m afraid even talismans will lose much of their effect. We have to proceed with extreme caution.”
“Taoist, you said earlier that a young man once saw my master’s remains in an abandoned temple?”
The southwest exorcist asked softly, his voice trembling with tears: “Once this is over, may I visit that temple? I swear it won’t interfere with the mission.”
“I just…”
He lowered his head and muttered, “I just want to take my master home.”
Taoist Li had been about to push open the nearby house door, but his hand froze in midair.
With his back to everyone, he suddenly recalled his little junior brother—the most gifted disciple in Haiyun Temple’s recorded history.
So many people had died.
Back then, all of Taoist Li’s senior brothers had gone down the mountain to provide medical aid and rescue during the calamity. Very few returned.
It was during that time that his master took in a young orphaned child.
“There will be great disaster in the mortal world,”
His master had said, gazing at the boy. “Extraordinary talent often draws extraordinary calamity. The Great Dao must have foreseen the future and prepared accordingly. This child… will become the hope of humanity.”
Because Li Chengyun’s talent was so immense, his master feared the heavens would take him early. So until the boy grew up, he called him “Gou Dan’er”—a humble name to temper his fate.
At the time, the young Taoist Li didn’t understand.
Only now did he realize the meaning behind his master’s prophecy a hundred years ago.
Li Chengyun had taken in a boy born with Evil Spirit Bone Transformation and carefully nurtured Yan Shixun into a remarkable exorcist.
And before the time came, Li Chengyun foresaw fate and tried to prevent disaster.
His little junior brother… had also died alone at Baizhi Lake.
When he died, no family or friends were by his side. No one wept for him.
Only the path beneath his feet remained.
Taoist Li stood silently, his hand on the door tightening into a fist.
He had thought that after living over a hundred years, he had grown numb to life and death. But when the southwest exorcist brought up Baizhi Lake, he realized he had never forgotten the death of his youngest junior brother.
“Don’t worry.”
Taoist Li let out a grunt. “Do you think I’d leave the remains of someone who gave his life to guard the Dao to rot in the wild? Your master was a man of great virtue. He safeguarded Baizhi Lake for years. Even if we have to search the entire mountain, we’ll bring his bones home.”
The southwest exorcist repeatedly expressed his thanks, his voice choked with sobs.
The other Taoists were also moved by his grief, their moods turning heavy.
They patted the young exorcist on the shoulder with a sigh, though in their hearts they knew Taoist Li’s words were more comfort than promise.
All of them might die here—to fill the gap in the protective array left by the stolen ebony statue, using their own lives to restrain or repel the evil at Baizhi Lake.
No one could afford the luxury of worrying about what came after.
How could they possibly retrieve the master’s remains for this boy?
Still, looking at the tear-streaked face of the young exorcist, the Taoists couldn’t bring themselves to speak the harsh truth.
They shook their heads and dispersed to investigate the village.
“How strange.”
One Taoist turned and glanced at the calm Baizhi Lake in the distance, then looked back at the house in front of him, muttering with confusion, “It’s so damp here… how is there no moss or anything like that?”
Judging by the humidity alone, the buildings should have long been eroded.
However, the houses here were merely covered in dust and somewhat rundown. There wasn’t even any moss typically found in damp areas, and even the wood structures remained intact.
This raised a question in the Taoist’s heart—
Was this really the Bai family village in the real world?
And when Taoist Li pushed open the door to another house, he looked up and suddenly locked eyes with a pair of eyes in the darkness.
A humanoid silhouette flickered faintly in the shadows.
As the door swung open, a dim light filtered in from outside, casting a soft glow around the figure.
Taoist Li was startled for a moment, caught off guard, but quickly realized what it was.
The figure sat in the hall directly facing the doorway. He wore an outdated style of clothing, one hand resting on the table, seated upright in a chair. His face was full of deep wrinkles, showing the wear of many years.
But on closer inspection, it was clear this wasn’t a real person.
It was an exquisitely crafted wooden puppet.
The craftsmanship was so meticulous that not a single wrinkle was overlooked. Every feature of the person used as the model was carved with precision. It looked exactly like a real person—so much so that mistaking it for a real human wouldn’t have been surprising.
Taoist Li wasn’t frightened. His gaze dropped to the puppet’s clothing.
This style was from the last century, and combined with the massacre that had taken place in the Bai family village…
Could this be a lifelike puppet, carved to resemble the villagers of that year?
They had indeed found the right place.
As Taoist Li thought this, he saw the puppet’s eyes suddenly roll in their sockets, giving it an eerily lifelike appearance.
It was like a corpse in a morgue suddenly sitting upright, claiming it was still alive.
The puppet’s mouth emitted a faint creaking sound, and then stretched into a wide grin that reached all the way to its ears—stiff and malicious.
“Welcome…”
A raspy, unpleasant voice emerged from the puppet’s mouth, sounding like a broken gong.
It seemed to be adapting to its body, struggling for a while before it managed to regain its voice, gradually transitioning from stammering to smooth speech.
“Welcome to the Bai family village.”
The puppet grinned and slowly said, “Since you’ve come, don’t bother leaving.”
At the same time, a warning cry rang out from the village behind Taoist Li.
Cries of alarm and caution from the other Taoists erupted in quick succession.
“I saw a puppet with lifelike eyes and mouth!”
“Same here—everyone, be careful!”
“The carpenter from back then probably carved the whole village. Everyone, watch out for a siege!”
“There’s one in the house I entered too!”
“So this is what happens when Ghost Dao take over…”
One Taoist stared at a puppet rushing toward him and muttered, “The ghost is human, and the human is a ghost. Taoists who drive out spirits have become the rats everyone wants dead.”
But when the puppet got close, he still instinctively raised his sword to strike back. His eyes remained determined, unwavering as he swung at the puppet.
The sound of wood clashing echoed amidst the Taoists’ cries, slicing through the village’s eerie stillness.
It was as if every household had been awakened.
Lights flickered on in the houses, shadows moving behind the windows.
But the figures stepping through the doors were all wooden puppets, just like those the Taoists had encountered.
Many others sat up from the beds inside the houses—also wooden puppets.
Every movement mimicked human behavior flawlessly.
They wore the clothes of the villagers from years past, looking exactly like them.
They seemed like villagers who rose at dawn, rested at dusk, peacefully sleeping in their homes—only to be roused by the noise outside and step out to investigate.
To them, the Taoists outside were the ones who had intruded and disrupted their peace.
Seeing this, the Taoists stood frozen in shock, staring around in disbelief.
For a brief moment, they even forgot who they were.
Were they really Taoists from Haiyun Temple, who had trained for decades to catch ghosts and drive out evil, guarding peace for the world?
Or were they in fact the evil spirits, having forgotten they had long been dead—deceived by false memories until they could no longer recall the truth?
Taoist Li felt a stabbing pain in his head like a needle piercing through. He quickly raised a hand to hold his head, but his vision spun and tilted wildly, unable to find a single point of stability.
The others began to experience similar symptoms. Some Taoists even felt burning pain in the hands holding their peach wood swords. Blackened scorch marks spread, their skin curling and smoking with sparks—just like how evil spirits would react to pure righteous energy.
The Taoist stared at his palm, shocked and confused.
Was it that—to the Ghost Dao—they, the Taoists, were the true monsters that needed to be eradicated?
All the techniques they had learned over the years now turned against them, unable to harm the puppets or the so-called “evil spirits” before them.
Taoist Li took in the whole scene, his gaze heavy, his white beard floating with the wind.
…
“The door—the door opened on its own!”
A sharp cry snapped everyone’s attention around.
Bai Shuang stared at the slowly opening door in shock. Her pointing hand trembled, and her voice came out shrill with fear.
Although the program crew hadn’t met Yan Shixun yet, they had successfully linked up with Taoist Wang and Taoist Ma, and followed them to a village.
Many houses there were already in ruins, but some were still habitable, so they tidied one up to use as a temporary shelter from the wind and rain.
Everyone gathered in one place, planning to take a nap and rest up before heading out again.
After all, they were all exhausted and anxious. Thankfully, the crew’s staff had some food in their backpacks, enough to ease their hunger, but their mental fatigue was still hard to shake.
Seeing everyone so worn out, Taoist Ma made the call for everyone to rest a bit and recover before continuing.
Bai Shuang was among them.
She had been lying in bed, half-asleep, when she suddenly felt a cold breeze blowing down the back of her neck.
She looked up groggily and saw the door slowly swinging open—yet no one was there.
But… Bai Shuang remembered very clearly that Taoist Ma had checked the door locks himself before they rested, just to make sure nothing would happen. He had locked the door carefully.
It couldn’t have been the wind that opened it.
Could it be… a ghost?
Bai Shuang was terrified.
Her startled cry woke the others who had been dozing off. They rubbed their eyes and looked in the direction she was pointing, her hand still trembling.
“Huh? Did someone go to the bathroom and forget to close the door?”
“So cold… Achoo!”
Taoist Ma, who had been resting with his eyes closed on a traditional chair in the hall, immediately snapped alert.
But he knew very well—it wasn’t someone going to the bathroom.
He had stayed there specifically to watch over everyone. The people from the program crew were just ordinary folks—if anyone had walked past him, there was no way he wouldn’t have heard it.
Supernatural interference.
That phrase flashed across Taoist Ma’s mind.
He grabbed the peach wood sword beside him and stood up, saying sternly, “You stay here with Taoist Wang. I’ll go take a look.”
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