Chapter 61

It turned out that the amount of sha energy had no direct link to one’s cultivation level.

So far, Ren Tianhe had the highest cultivation base among all the people Gu Zhao had killed, yet the sha energy he contributed was less than one-third of that from this butcher Chu Da, and Chu Da’s cultivation was itself less than one-third of Ren Tianhe’s.

Gu Zhao did not look into the back room; instead, he directly instructed Daoist Yan Song to set fire, burning away all the evil here along with Chu Da’s unrecognizable corpse.

Chu Da had deliberately avoided drawing attention when bringing the three of them in, so after extinguishing the fire, they left without concern.

I thought Chu Da was a demon, but he turned out to be a mage.

“He practiced evil arts, drank blood, and ate people—he’s already a demon.”

“How many people did he kill?”

“Hard to say, but that meat shop looks like an old establishment.”

“Good heavens!”

“Maybe he used to be more restrained, but lately, with the imperial court weakening and demons rampant, the Jin Feng Sect no longer controls him, so he’s grown bold.”

“Where to next? The teahouse?”

“Good!”

The three arrived at the second teahouse and found it bustling with people; many sat inside drinking tea and listening to stories—it was one of the few lively spots in Xiuyue County.

The three entered the teahouse, asked the server for a pot of tea and two servings of snacks, and sat down in a quiet corner.

Inside the teahouse, the storyteller spoke with fiery passion, and the audience below was electrified, the atmosphere intensely vibrant.

Xiuniang looked around, incredulous. “How could there be a problem here?”

Bai Ke, sensing carefully inside Xiuniang’s backpack, whispered, “There is indeed a faint scent of blood, but it’s weak—perhaps it will fade in a few more days.”

“It seems he’s more restrained than Chu Da,” Daoist Yan Song remarked, first picking up a snack, sniffing it, biting a small piece, then lifting the teacup to smell it and taking a sip. “The snacks and tea are fine.”

Gu Zhao scanned the room, then fixed his gaze on the stage. “If the teahouse is clean, then the owner is the problem.”

“Too many people. Come back at night,” Daoist Yan Song murmured.

Gu Zhao nodded, picked up a snack, and handed it to Xiuniang. “It’s just afternoon tea time—let’s have a snack first, then find an inn to stay.”

Xiuniang happily took the snack, glanced around, saw no one was watching, and quietly slipped it into her backpack.

“Crunch crunch—”

Gu Zhao and Daoist Yan Song sipped tea while listening to the storyteller’s tale.

The storyteller was recounting “The Golden Hairpin Record,” a tale of a noble lady and a poor scholar eloping and supporting each other, with a seductive fox spirit thrown in; after a series of misunderstandings, the two women end up sharing one husband, who rises to become an official.

“Clichéd,” Daoist Yan Song shook his head.

“Poisonous,” Gu Zhao commented.

Yet the surrounding audience listened, utterly entranced.

“Bravo!”

“If only a noble lady would take a fancy to me.”

“Dream on—even if one did, it’d be a fox spirit sucking your essence.”

“No need for a fox spirit—Old Zhao’s essence has already been drained by the women at Lingxiang Pavilion.”

“Hahaha!”

“This storyteller is much better than the one a few days ago.”

“That previous one wasn’t bad either—just kept repeating the same stories for days, wore himself out, and we got tired of it.”

“He hasn’t shown up these past few days—did he leave?”

“Probably. Storytellers travel far and wide; they only have so many tales. When no one listens anymore, they have to move on.”

…

After drinking tea and eating snacks, the storyteller concluded his segment, stepped down, and left. After a brief rest, two opera singers came up to perform a duet.

But Gu Zhao and the others did not stay to watch—they left together.

“It’s still a while till dark,” Daoist Yan Song glanced at the sky. “Shall we head to the next place?”

“Sure,” Gu Zhao nodded.

They came to Xiuyue County to subdue demons and collect sha energy; finishing early meant returning to Cuishan Village sooner to rest.

“That mansion is two streets behind. Last time I passed by the alley entrance but didn’t go inside,” Gu Zhao said as they walked. “But the alley looks run-down, and few people live there.”

Daoist Yan Song chuckled. “Of course few people live there—those who share a house with ghosts are rare.”

The three soon reached the alley Gu Zhao mentioned, and then…

Weeds grew between the steps, dead leaves littered the ground before the door, the bronze door rings were rusted, and the red lanterns hanging on either side were reduced to bamboo frames and scraps of paper.

“Uh… an abandoned house?”

Following Gu Zhao’s spiritual sense to the door, they realized the mansion had long fallen into ruin—even the neighboring courtyards had their gates tightly shut, and few households remained in the alley.

Gu Zhao stroked his chin. “I told you—yin energy seeps out even in daylight. How could anyone live inside?”

“This is a true ghost house!” Daoist Yan Song marveled. “It’s got the right vibe—this would make a hit episode for Ghost House Exploration, way more authentic than that nonsense about going to the back mountain to restock.”

Xiuniang and Bai Ke glanced at Daoist Yan Song curiously; they often heard strange phrases from this old Daoist—each word was familiar, yet together they made no sense.

Gu Zhao replied, “Then you’d have to turn the ghosts inside into NPCs.”

Daoist Yan Song grinned. “Want to go in?”

Gu Zhao patted the bag at his waist. “Let’s go in. If everyone in this mansion was killed by him, we’ll do a righteous deed and cleanse the world. If he hasn’t done evil, we’ll just ask for a drink of water and rest a while.”

The Five Thunder Talisman and Thunder Seed required sha energy; those reclusive spirits and demons were not on the menu.

Xiuniang clenched her fists, summoned courage. “I’ll open the door!”

None of Gu Zhao’s group stopped her—she now carried the Heaven Fox Nail, the Green Feather Fan, and the eighteen Heavenly Gang Talismans that Gu Zhao had instructed her to keep on her person. Even if Xu Kongting, turned into a corpse demon, wanted to kill her, he’d have to struggle hard.

“Squeak—”

The locked door creaked open. Xiuniang stepped carefully over the threshold, turned the screen wall, and took one look into the courtyard—then recoiled two steps in shock.

The others followed her inside and were also slightly startled.

Compared to the outside—overgrown weeds, dead branches, cobwebs, dust, and rusted metal—the area behind the screen wall was spotless and tidy.

The blue stone path seemed freshly watered; the surrounding grass appeared meticulously tended; the courtyard walls, verandas, and main hall had all been swept clean.

Looking ahead, the main door of the central hall stood wide open, revealing tables, chairs, paintings, vases, incense burners—all spotless, as if someone still lived there.