Chapter 8: Chapter Eight: Yuanfa Palace

Yuanfa Palace.

Gu Zhao received three free incense sticks, walked up the steps, and upon entering the mountain gate, found himself before the Lingguan Hall.

Looking up, he saw the altar dedicated to Wang Lingguan suspended midair, the deity’s statue entirely gilded.

Wang Lingguan’s left hand formed the Lingguan Seal at chest level, his right hand raised a golden whip above his head, his three eyes blazing with fury, poised to strike—truly awe-inspiring, majestic and fearsome.

Gu Zhao held the incense in his left hand, protected it with his right, bowed deeply, and performed three full prostrations to show his reverence.

This was none other than the most famous guardian deity of the Daoist sect, with golden eyes and crimson hair, a phoenix-like mouth and silver fangs, unmatched in combat power, immensely renowned during the Ming Dynasty—even Wu Cheng’en dared not let the Monkey King defeat him.

There’s a saying: Whether you climb the mountain or not, first pay respects to Wang Lingguan.

But…

Gu Zhao glanced at the red and gold curtains flanking the statue, inscribed with 【Xuanmen Hufa Leisheng Yinghua Tianzun】, then at the wooden couplets on either side: 【Yiqi Shenjun Du Tian Jiucha Da Lingguan】 and 【Xiantian Zhujiang Sanjie Wusi Mengli Jiang】.

Placing the epithets used for Wang Lingguan in the demonic novel *Journey to the West* alongside the official Daoist scripture *Huochewang Lingguan Zhenjing*, he felt something was off.

Well, both books were centuries old; *Journey to the West*, as one of the Four Great Classical Novels, had far greater popular influence than *Huochewang Lingguan Zhenjing*, and according to Daoist tradition, borrowing and adapting such names was only natural.

For instance, the guardian deities flanking Wang Lingguan were none other than the He and Ha Generals from *Fengshen Yanyi*.

Gu Zhao: _(¦3」∠)_

Wang Lingguan still deserved reverence, but the He and Ha Generals? Even if Chen Qi and Zheng Lun stepped out of the book, Gu Zhao would test their mettle with Palm Thunder first.

After paying respects to Wang Lingguan, Gu Zhao passed beside the altar and entered the courtyard of Yuanfa Palace.

Yuanfa Palace was small, consisting of only one courtyard: beyond the Lingguan Hall stood a courtyard with an incense burner, and behind it, the Yuanfa Precious Hall, dedicated not to the Three Pure Ones, but to the Three Great Emperors: Yao, Shun, and Yu.

Gu Zhao lit incense, stood before the burner; as a half-trained Daoist, his grandfather had never taught him detailed Daoist rituals—he likely didn’t know them himself, and Gu Zhao clearly had no use for them.

So he simply followed the most basic rites: lit the incense, bowed, first paid homage to the Three Emperors, then to the Four Directional Deities, and finally inserted the incense into the burner.

The most important ritual was complete.

Now he could find where to buy cinnabar and yellow paper!

Gu Zhao turned toward the nearby Daoist goods stall, which, though small, carried an astonishing variety of items.

Amulet for safety, amulet for wealth, amulet for love, amulet for Tai Sui, amulet for health, amulet for studies, amulet for home protection…

Mass-produced industrial talismans were cheap; hand-written yellow-paper talismans were expensive. Gu Zhao sensed them—all showed no energy fluctuation.

He glanced at the volunteer explaining the talismans’ functions, then at the excited tourists selecting them, and stepped forward. “Excuse me…”

“Are you looking for a study amulet, a love amulet, or a wealth amulet?” The staff member, noting Gu Zhao’s age, responded smoothly. “By the way, what’s your zodiac sign? Would you like a Tai Sui amulet?”

“None of those,” Gu Zhao said, eyeing the talismans behind the counter. “I want to draw my own talismans. I need cinnabar and yellow paper.”

Staff member: ???

Surrounding tourists: ???

“Bro, you’re not here to cause trouble, are you?”

Before the staff member could react, a young man frowned. “These are all talismans written and consecrated by Daoist masters. If you want cinnabar and paper, can’t you just order online?”

The girl beside him tugged his sleeve, signaling him to mind his own business.

Gu Zhao shot the young man a sidelong glance, had no intention of arguing, and explained to the staff: “I already ordered online, but delivery will take days—I came here because I need them today.”

Another young woman leaned in curiously. “You draw your own talismans? Are you a Daoist?”

Gu Zhao turned. His first glance caught the woman’s ample bosom—he instinctively stepped back, then took in the full view. “I’ve studied some, but I’m not formally initiated.”

“I’m sorry, we don’t sell cinnabar or yellow paper,” the staff member finally found her opening and politely declined.

Gu Zhao frowned slightly but nodded resignedly; he wasn’t the type to insist. If they wouldn’t sell, he wouldn’t press—just as he’d said, he’d already ordered online, he just had to wait a few days.

He’d come today only because his newfound ability to cultivate had thrilled him—he wanted to test it immediately. Now it was nearly noon, and he’d calmed down.

I’ve cultivated my Dao and mind for over a decade—not for nothing!

Gu Zhao:

At that moment, a young Daoist, seemingly in his thirties, passed by. Seeing the crowd gathered but not shopping, he approached to investigate—and Qiahao heard the last remark.

“What’s going on?” the young Daoist asked.

The staff member hurried to explain: “Brother Hui Bin, this visitor wants to buy cinnabar and yellow paper, but we don’t sell those.”

Hui Bin turned to Gu Zhao and saw him holding the Zi-Wu Seal, bowing respectfully, speaking in classical Daoist phrasing: “Greetings, Elder Brother.”

This was the standard greeting among Daoist peers of equal rank—posture precise, demeanor natural, clearly not faked.

Hui Bin quickly returned the bow. “Hello, younger brother.”

Though unsure of Gu Zhao’s exact lineage, since they weren’t from the same mountain gate, age-based terms sufficed: “You need cinnabar and yellow paper?”

Gu Zhao nodded. “I ran into an urgent matter and need to draw a few talismans, so I came to Yuanfa Palace to see if I could buy some.”

Hui Bin’s mind was confused. What century was this? People bought talismans for peace of mind—you’re in the field, and you really need talismans for practical use?

He glanced at the counter, then turned back to Gu Zhao. “What trouble are you facing? These talismans were written by my uncles—if you need them, I’ll give you a few.”

As fellow Daoists, Hui Bin had the authority to gift a few talismans.

Gu Zhao shook his head. He didn’t explain his situation, only said: “Thank you, Elder Brother, but I don’t need these kinds of talismans.”

Hui Bin instinctively asked: “Then what kind?”

Gu Zhao hadn’t expected him to ask so specifically—but it wasn’t secret. He answered plainly: “Five Thunder Talisman.”

Hui Bin froze. Yuanfa Palace belonged to the Quanzhen Longmen lineage—it had no Five Thunder Talismans.

But the surrounding tourists were thrilled. Compared to love or health talismans, “Five Thunder Talisman” sounded vastly more impressive.

The bosomy girl asked curiously: “What’s the Five Thunder Talisman for? Exorcising demons?”

Gu Zhao smiled and nodded. “Yes.”

The crowd: “Wow—”

Seeing their eyes light up, Hui Bin studied Gu Zhao for a moment, then said “Oh,” and understood.

So this was a middle-schooler pretending to be mature, just wanting to show off.