Chapter Sixty-Seven: Banishing Evil

This is probably a horror story.

Yet the woman didn’t turn her head or react in any obvious way. After all, they were all adults—how could anyone be so easily deceived? But Chen Jin hadn’t lied to her. Master Liaoxin truly was right behind her, smiling broadly, his plump cheeks squeezed together in a grin as he watched her.

Chen Jin sighed inwardly: Is it that nobody believes the truth nowadays? Is this not the ancient era when everyone was full of trust?

She seemed to sense something, as if she could feel someone’s gaze fixed upon her back. Still, she did not turn around. Instead, her throat bobbed slightly (rest assured, there was no Adam’s apple). The subtle movement sent a strange aura surging outward from her, dispersing in all directions. Perhaps this was her own way of probing her surroundings.

After only a moment, Chen Jin noticed her relax, as if relieved—apparently, she hadn’t detected anyone behind her. He glanced at Master Liaoxin, wondering if the master was deliberately concealing his presence. In any case, the woman shot Chen Jin a cold sneer. “Stop playing your little tricks. It’s useless.”

Chen Jin felt wronged. He truly hadn’t intended to trick her into turning around to check on Liaoxin behind her and then ambush her, though the thought had crossed his mind briefly. Even so, he wouldn’t dare do such a thing in front of an elder.

“So, you know my grand-uncle?” Chen Jin suddenly realized something. Just now, she seemed to have shown a flicker of fear, so he inferred that she did indeed know of his grand-uncle.

“Xiaomei, I am here. Do not waste your efforts any longer,” Master Liaoxin spoke up at that moment.

“Ah?!” The woman gasped, frozen in place. Clearly, she was genuinely afraid of Liaoxin.

“I…” the woman stammered, her fear evident. She now seemed utterly deflated.

“The Chen bloodline should have ended long ago. It was meant to be severed with Chen Sanquan, yet you insist on clinging to it. Why are you so obsessed?” Master Liaoxin cut her off directly.

Chen Jin watched the two of them, his gaze shifting between them. Clearly, their relationship was far from ordinary.

“But, but…” The woman’s face flushed scarlet at Liaoxin’s words, and she was about to argue.

“This is your obsession, the very reason you cannot escape calamity and ascend to become a ghost immortal. I know this. That is why I have allowed you to commit these sordid deeds. I bear guilt as well. After this matter is resolved, I will go to Taishan’s Lord to confess my sins. I only hope you can recognize the source of your tribulation, break free from the fetters of obsession, and achieve your ascension soon, instead of wandering lost and confused among the living,” Master Liaoxin intoned slowly, palms pressed together.

Gone was the previous air of mockery; now, he seemed every inch the enlightened monk, detached from worldly matters, ready to immolate himself and leave only sacred relics behind…

Of course, Chen Jin didn’t buy it. Judging from the way they’d bantered along the way, this fellow was a master of empty talk and endless circles, thick-skinned beyond belief. If Chen Jin’s cheap master were to slap him across the face, Liaoxin would probably turn the other cheek with a grin—so long as he needed something, that is. Otherwise, he’d never endure humiliation or pain willingly.

Still, every person has two sides. Who could say whether Master Liaoxin was truly like this? It’s said that cultivation slowly strips away such duality, making one single-minded and unwavering.

“If the Chen bloodline continues, I cannot become a ghost immortal—you know this. Besides, I refuse to be a ghost immortal bound by a mere name. Such an immortality is not worth having; I’d rather reincarnate and seek enlightenment from the ignorance of infancy,” the woman said, nearly hysterical.

Her hair whipped out wildly, growing long and tangled, trailing toward the ground as if some invisible scissors were constantly cutting it—no matter how fast it grew, it never reached the floor. The severed strands, upon hitting the ground, transformed into foul-smelling, rancid scraps of skin—disgusting to see, to smell, and even the sound of them hitting the floor was nauseating, making one’s scalp crawl.

It was like flaying, peeling away dry skin—enough to suffocate the viewer and shatter their perception of reality.

Chen Jin had seen plenty of horror films, especially gruesome foreign ones, so he could just swallow hard and carry on.

“Why persist? Why cling to delusion?” Liaoxin whispered gently.

He then began to chant a Buddhist prayer, and gradually, a radiant golden light flowed forth from his body, enveloping him like a golden-bodied Arhat—the gilded icons found in modern temples.

If only his face, full of fat, didn’t spoil the effect…

What was sanctity? As long as you didn’t look at Liaoxin’s face, perhaps you could sense it from his presence.

Chen Jin’s heart trembled. He studied Liaoxin closely, hoping to glean some insight. Yet, after several glances, all he felt was a blinding glare.

Fortunately, his body and eyes were no longer ordinary. Otherwise, he might have broken down in tears, just like Gao Jiu and Gao Kang, who were already weeping uncontrollably.

The two ordinary men seemed utterly convinced. If Chen Jin hadn’t restrained their bodies, they’d probably have dropped to their knees, kowtowed three times and nine times, and hailed a living immortal on the spot.

But while these two mortals were enlightened, the woman, Xiaomei—the main target of Liaoxin’s persuasion—remained unmoved.

She now appeared even more terrifying. Before, it had only been her hair growing rapidly and falling to the ground as scraps of skin, but now, blood began to ooze from every inch of her body.

It pooled and gurgled on the floor. Was she some sort of blood reservoir, or had she cast an illusion on Chen Jin? All he knew was that the blood streamed from her body toward him, across a span of thirty feet, carrying the foul skin scraps with it.

Faced with such a scene, Chen Jin felt he would die of revulsion before being beaten or poisoned to death.

Every cultivator who reached this stage became highly sensitive to cleanliness. Their heightened senses made anything disgusting seem even more so. With his new eyes, Chen Jin could see every revolting detail all the more clearly, making the sight even harder to bear.

He hurriedly sent his Tiger Fang Flying Sword hurtling out, slicing a deep trench in the ground to channel the oncoming blood and debris, then hoisted Gao Jiu and Gao Kang and retreated to a safer distance.

“Ixpnosex IIECADIE…”

Just as Chen Jin landed on the rooftop of a nearby house to continue watching, he heard a string of incomprehensible words echoing from below. It was Master Liaoxin chanting.

…