Chapter 21

“Has the blogger finally stopped pretending?”

“Wow, mass-producing thunderwood, huh?”

“Unprofessional—next time use peach wood.”

“Great palm thunder—clearly a seasoned practitioner. If we get the chance, let’s spar! I specialize in the Type 81 automatic rifle!”

“Wasn’t @HangGeDaNiFei saying the blogger is good at fortune-telling and feng shui? Why’s he playing Daoist magic now?”

“Feels fake—nowhere near True Person Ruozong. He even adds a note saying it’s special effects, afraid we’ll believe it (facepalming.jpg).”

“I’m not afraid of special effects—I’m afraid a fake hides something real (crying-laughing.jpg).”

“Blogger, I want to learn this!”

“The blogger’s finally woken up—next time film sword flight. Just invest in a drone (laughing hard.jpg).”

Of course, no netizen took the video seriously; the active ones joked in the comments, the inactive ones just watched for entertainment, since Gu Zhao had few followers, no trolls had appeared yet.

Gu Zhao watched the slow growth of comments, likes, and shares, then spotted Zhang Hang’s comment.

HangGeDaNiFei: “I underestimated you—I never thought a man with such noble features would start using special effects!”

Gu Zhao smiled silently, already imagining Zhang Hang’s expression when he discovered the truth behind the effect.

……

Meanwhile, Yuanfa Palace.

Hui Bin and several fellow disciples stood at the gate, welcoming guests.

"Who's arriving? Even the president of the association came out to greet?" Hui Bin glanced at a nearby middle-aged Daoist and whispered to his senior.

“I heard it’s an old Daoist from Longmen Ancestral Temple in Yanjing,” said another Daoist, named Hui Ting. “He’s spent his life traveling to Longmen temples, collecting and organizing their scripture collections.”

Hui Bin couldn’t help glancing back toward the palace’s scripture hall. “Do we have scriptures here that Yanjing doesn’t?”

“Who knows? Come and see. Yuanfa Palace joined the Longmen Sect three hundred years ago; our abbot then was a true Longmen lineage holder. The scripture hall has been preserved since then—maybe it holds unique scrolls.” Hui Ting said.

“Oh!” Hui Bin nodded, proud. “I thought orthodox Daoism was all in Jiangnan and Jiangbei—didn’t expect our little place has treasures.”

Hui Ting shook his head. “We were already thriving in the Ming Dynasty—definitely have good things. By comparison, Yuchan Palace in Qiong Province is just a brand-new building.”

Hui Bin added, “And Huang Xian Shrine in Yangcheng too!”

The two exchanged smiles, then saw several cars turn the corner and stop at Yuanfa Palace’s gate.

Everyone stepped forward; the outermost Daoist approached, opened the car door, and held his hand above the roof to prevent the passenger from hitting his head.

The next moment, an old Daoist in a blue linen robe and Hunyuan cap bent down and stepped out, first thanking the Daoist who opened the door, then straightened and looked at the crowd.

“Master Yihong!” Everyone bowed in unison.

“Good, good, good!” Master Yihong smiled and returned the greeting.

“Master, please come inside. You’ve just landed—rest in a quiet chamber first,” said a middle-aged Daoist stepping forward.

“No rush, no rush. I’m old, but not frail.” Master Yihong chuckled. “I told you not to make a fuss, but since you insisted everyone come out to greet me, I’d be impolite if I didn’t say hello.”

Master Yihong showed no airs; from the moment he stepped out, he strolled toward Yuanfa Palace, greeting every Daoist—senior or junior—along the way.

“Fusheng Wuliang Tianzun!” The young Daoists bowed respectfully.

“Hello, hello!” Master Yihong smiled and returned the hand salute.

Among the welcoming crowd, senior figures from provincial and municipal Daojiaoxie Society stood at the front, senior Daoists of Yuanfa Palace in the middle, and Hui Bin and other junior disciples at the back.

Master Yihong kept walking, greeting each Daoist equally, never pausing.

But when he finished greeting Hui Ting and reached Hui Bin’s side, he suddenly paused.

“M-Master, hello!” Hui Bin politely greeted.

Master Yihong stopped, let out a soft “Huh?” and carefully sensed for a moment—his gaze toward Hui Bin grew uncertain.

That look made Hui Bin’s heart race—he didn’t know if he’d done something wrong.

“Did he just hear my earlier muttering?” Hui Bin thought, terrified. “Is this old Daoist… no, this elder… gifted with wind-ear or mind-reading?”

“Master Yihong?” A middle-aged Daoist stepped beside the old man, puzzled by his sudden halt.

Master Yihong chuckled, reached out, and took Hui Bin’s wrist. “What’s your name?”

“I… I’m Lin, no—I’m Hui Bin.” Hui Bin nearly blurted his secular name.

“Good, good.” Master Yihong kept hold of Hui Bin’s wrist as he walked, still greeting others. “Where are you from? How long have you been initiated?”

“I’m from Hunan Province. Been initiated six or seven years—always been at Yuanfa Palace.” Hui Bin replied.

Master Yihong nodded. “Not long since initiation. Why did you join? Any Daoists in your family?”

“I just love traditional Chinese culture and Daoism’s tranquility and naturalness,” Hui Bin replied. “No Daoists in my family—I’m the first.”

“Hmm.” Master Yihong nodded. “You have innate talent.”

“Thank you, Master!” Hui Bin hurriedly thanked him.

“Don’t thank me—I didn’t see it,” Master Yihong smiled. “Someone else saw it—a high Daoist—and gave you a truly apertured talisman.”

Here, Master Yihong asked curiously, “There are few Daoists in China with this ability. Who gave you the talisman? Do I know them?”

“Huh?” Hui Bin stared blankly.

“Huh?” The crowd behind them also stared blankly.

Hui Bin panicked and denied quickly, “You must be mistaken—no one gave me a talisman!”

Master Yihong blinked, turned back, and studied Hui Bin’s expression carefully—confirmed he wasn’t hiding anything—his curiosity deepened. “No one gave you a talisman?”

“No!” Hui Bin shook his head firmly.

Master Yihong patted Hui Bin’s chest. “Then where did the talisman in your clothes come from?”

“In my clothes?” Hui Bin froze. “I don’t have any…”

Then he remembered—several days ago, a young man had drawn a Five Thunder Talisman and given it to him. He’d shoved it into the inner pocket of his outer robe and forgotten about it.

He hadn’t washed his coat since, so the talisman remained inside.

Hui Bin reached into his chest, pulled out the yellow talisman folded into a triangle, and stared in disbelief. “This one?”

Master Yihong drew a deep breath and said firmly, “That one.”