Chapter Sixty-One: Entering the Realm of Tranquility Once Again

As soon as one person started to run, the crowd was instantly thrown into chaos. No one bothered to see who had actually opened the main gate; in the blink of an eye, more than a dozen people broke away from the encircling throng and fled.

So, when Chen Jin stepped out and glanced around, he was met with this awkward scene—no one came to welcome him. Instead, everyone scattered as if they’d seen a ferocious tiger.

“It’s me!” Chen Jin shouted.

“It’s the Daoist! It’s the Daoist! Don’t run!” Old Wang Zhang, though aged and frail, now bellowed with surprising vigor.

His voice—hoarse but bold—immediately subdued the crowd, quelling the panic and restoring order.

However, those who had already fled did not return; evidently, they were truly frightened.

These young men really have no guts.

Chen Jin shook his head, and so did Old Wang Zhang, helplessly.

“Daoist, were you able to capture the demon?” Wang Zhang asked with concern.

“No, the demon was too cunning and managed to escape,” Chen Jin replied, shaking his head with a sigh.

“Then… what should we do?” Wang Zhang’s face darkened.

What can I do? Just let it be, Chen Jin muttered inwardly.

“Let’s wait for my uncle-master. He is highly skilled in the mystical arts and will surely be able to subdue the demon,” Chen Jin said.

“And where is your uncle-master now?” Wang Zhang’s face brightened with hope.

“He’s gone to search for the demon, but he’s probably waiting for me at the town’s entrance now,” Chen Jin replied.

He said this in order to remain consistent with his previous statements. Otherwise, if someone caught on to a contradiction, his credibility would be ruined.

Besides, this served as a safety net. Who could predict whether Master Liaoxin, that mischievous baldy, might quietly slip away and leave him behind? It was better not to make any firm promises about meeting up.

As long as he spoke in vague terms like “probably” or “maybe,” that would suffice.

“Shall we go and invite him now?” Wang Zhang asked anxiously.

“Yes, let’s go at once,” Chen Jin agreed.

So Chen Jin led the group toward the town entrance.

But when they arrived, there was no one there, nor any message left behind.

“Truly mischievous,” Chen Jin thought helplessly.

—

“Zhengyang, I have an urgent matter to attend to and must leave for a short while. I’ll leave this to you for now; I’ll be back soon,” Master Liaoxin’s calm and unhurried voice sounded in Chen Jin’s mind.

Chen Jin’s face darkened. This Master Liaoxin was truly an oddball…

“There are oddballs every year, but why do I meet so many?” he muttered to himself. It had a nice ring to it.

“Ah, it seems my uncle-master has gone off to capture the demon elsewhere. Let’s return to town and discuss the matter of the demon in our midst,” Chen Jin said, awkward but quick-thinking.

“There are two demons in the town?” Wang Zhang’s face turned pale.

The others looked just as alarmed.

“I’m not sure. Perhaps two, perhaps one, maybe even three. Demons are cunning and devious, and when they hide, it’s difficult for us to find them,” Chen Jin explained.

“Then… what should we do?” Wang Zhang’s face, already pale from exertion, grew whiter still.

“Don’t worry. Let me set up a ritual altar to search for the demon’s location,” Chen Jin replied without changing expression.

“Then, quickly—please, please—for the sake of the townsfolk’s safety, please set up the altar,” Wang Zhang said excitedly.

“We’ll need a square table four feet high—if it’s not tall enough, set bricks beneath it. Then, a rooster, the biggest in town. Also, a pound of last year’s flour, three pounds of aged vinegar, three pounds of sorghum wine, three pounds of sesame oil, three sticks of beeswax, three long incense sticks, seven sheets of yellow paper, six red dates of any size, three pounds of water from the central well, have you got all that?” Chen Jin rattled off in one breath.

“Could you repeat that?” Wang Zhang asked, somewhat embarrassed.

“I’ve got it,” said Wang Zhang’s usually silent grand-nephew, who had been supporting him all along.

“There’s more: six pounds of boy’s urine—meaning from males who are still virgins,” Chen Jin continued.

“Alright.”

“And a black dog, a big black ox, and finally five brave men who have served as soldiers and killed in battle,” Chen Jin finished.

“Yes.”

“That’s all. Gather these things as quickly as possible, preferably before dawn,” Chen Jin said.

“Alright, right away,” Wang Zhang replied, nodding vigorously.

He then instructed his grand-nephew to write down the list and had those in the town who could read organize the preparations.

“I’ll meditate for a while—wake me when everything is ready,” Chen Jin added.

“Very well.”

All these so-called ritual requirements were fabrications. Chen Jin simply needed time to make a breakthrough in his cultivation. The altar and ritual were just a ruse to confuse the demon and buy himself more time.

—

To subdue demons and banish evil, one cannot do without a clever mind. Of course, if you lack wit but have a strong body, you may end up as prey for the demons yourself.

So, both mind and body are essential.

Chen Jin now had a clever mind (or so he believed), but he lacked a strong body.

Thus, he needed to make the most of the moment and break through.

Fortunately, he already had two such experiences, so he expected he could succeed quickly.

He formed a hand seal—this seal was also for show, to deceive any lurking demons.

It had no real effect, serving only as a flourish, much like an orchid finger gesture.

Meanwhile, Chen Jin silently recited the Metal Vitality Formula, drawing the primordial energy of heaven and earth into his body and converting it to primal Qi.

Until it is transformed into primal Qi, the energy of heaven and earth is invisible, just like the air.

This time, perhaps because he had tempered his body for so long, the amount of primal Qi he produced was much greater than before—more than double his previous attempts.

Moreover, as the Metal Vitality Formula circulated, the foundation of his cultivation, originally based on the Profound Origin Dao Arts, was now entirely replaced by this formula.

Thus, by breaking through now, Chen Jin was in effect betraying his sect—his root practice had changed, and even the fundamental truths of the Dao as set forth in the scriptures differed. Ultimately, this could lead to conflict over the Dao itself, and if he were to return to Mount Lao now, he might well be expelled outright.

That was why Chen Jin had been reluctant to use the Metal Vitality Formula to break through to the Qi Consolidation Realm before.

He had still wanted to enjoy the benefits of Mount Lao, not to mention that the mountain housed many ancient Daoist texts lost to the modern world, which were invaluable to him.

Now, though, it was a pity.

But there was no use in complaining—it was his own decision, after all. He could only blame himself. Of course, he still harbored some resentment toward Master Liaoxin; if not for being brought here, he wouldn’t be in this predicament.

“Well, so be it. At worst, I’ll just explore another region, travel the world—perhaps I’ll see and gain even more,” Chen Jin consoled himself inwardly.

He wouldn’t dare say such things aloud, though—who knew if Liaoxin might be lurking in some corner, secretly watching him.

…