Chapter 83

After shooting dead these six heretical Daoist practitioners, Zhang Jian then personally went forward to search thoroughly.

It's not that he doesn't trust the people around him; he knows that some heterodox Daoist methods hide things at very tricky angles, and unless one is a cultivator, they might not be able to find them.

Shortly afterward, he found a narrow, elongated jade tablet on the body of the leading middle-aged Daoist.

The jade tablet also bore many little rope-head symbols, a strange incantation that did not look like writing.

But inside it nurtured a special connotation.

"An inheritance artifact!"

Zhang Jian's gaze swept over, and his expression showed some surprise.

The Daoist of the Iron Immortal Temple once mentioned that among heaven and earth there are many strange sects, or after a cultivator's demise they sometimes leave behind an inheritance; some leave behind scriptures, either written in ancient seal script or in more complicated characters.

Another part simply made a jade tablet, infusing a strand of divine sense into it as runes to serve as an inheritance.

This jade tablet before him is likely a similar inheritance artifact.

Zhang Jian waved his hand, signaling Zhang Lu and the others beside him to continue advancing up the mountain, to thoroughly sweep the mountain once more, ensuring no fish slip through the net.

At the mountainside, before the great hall of the Fire Spirit Temple, gazing at the enormous golden figure that had been erected before him, Zhang Jian scanned his surroundings, his eyes flickering slightly.

These six Daoists had indeed gone to great trouble.

Such a huge golden figure, even if merely cast from copper, is of considerable value.

It is a huge Daoist dharma body, called the Profound Yang Dharma Body.

This is an ancestor enshrined by the lineage of the Grotto Spirit Temple, called the Profound Yang Great True Lord.

"My lord, should we move this golden figure and melt it down…"

Beside him, Zhang Lu gazed at the enormous golden figure towering over a zhang in height, drooling all over the ground, unable to restrain his greed.

Now the Zhang family is exerting all efforts to expand, precisely a time when they lack money.

Melting down such a golden figure would yield a tremendous fortune.

Zhang Jian's gaze sank in thought; he gave a slight wave and smiled, saying, "That's not needed—he might still be useful."

The ghost-raising technique he had just obtained appeared in his mind.

'Soul-Seizing Technique!'

This Soul-Seizing Technique is quite marvelous, also a relatively orthodox method of raising ghosts; although it is still gloomy and bloody, its cost is much smaller than that of the corpse-refining method he previously obtained.

It advocates raising a single spirit ghost, practicing dual cultivation with one's life essence, so that their lives complement and fulfill each other.

One can even use it to establish a foundation; if foundation building succeeds, one can choose either the Honor Soul Banner or the Blood Soul Banner as one's life-bound artifact and continue cultivation—by then the power of the Soul-Seizing Technique becomes truly formidable.

When the soul banner is waved, yin soldiers emerge in formation to attack, which is quite fearsome.

It is said that at later stages one can cultivate eighteen Honor Soul Banners or eighteen Blood Soul Banners, forming a heaven-shaking, earth-shattering killing formation.

Once the killing formation is unleashed, even gods and demons flee!

The later parts of the technique are lacking; I don't know if Zhang Jian truly doesn't know, but he's blown his own horn—still, there ought to be some substance.

If Zhang Jian claimed he had no interest in such techniques, that would be false.

If worse comes to worst, it can also be passed to Zhang Yi for cultivation.

Zhang Yi's progress in the 'Tongshan Qingjing Nine Chapters' is extremely slow; he may never reach the two-hundred-year longevity limit, but perhaps he could achieve something in the ghost-raising arts.

He also glanced at the great hall among the mountains.

As for that massive Xuan Yang golden statue, it has another purpose.

These Daoists built such a temple to harness the power of believers, generating incense to harmonize the ghostly energy within themselves, lest they be backlashed by spirits.

After clearing out those Daoists on Yùpíng Mountain, Zhang Jian returned with the little remaining wealth from the hall.

His judgment was correct; these ghost-raising heterodox practitioners were indeed the ones Zhang Yun would pay his 'intelligence tax' to.

However, after a period of squandering, the wealth Zhang Yun had been defrauded of now only remains a fraction; after subtracting the silver given to the soldiers, it's about half.

Fortunately, besides money, the batch of wild mountain ginseng is still there, so Zhang Yun can be considered to have turned misfortune into blessing.

……

After returning from suppressing the bandits, Zhang Jian prepared to go back to the Zhang family.

What he saw and heard around Yùpíng Mountain made him feel wary.

However, as long as he remains in the Zhang ancestral hall, he will surely be safe.

When returning to the city.

Zhang Jian, however, noticed many anomalies.

Beasts fled in all directions, birds took to the sky.

On the ground, countless rats could be seen, and snakes and insects surged out from every direction into the city, as if some great disaster were approaching.

「Hurry and flee, I must leave this place at once!

」

「The Ghost King's divine carriage is arriving soon! 」

At this moment, Zhang Jian also heard a clamorous sound from deep underground, echoing in fear.

Wherever he looked, he saw swarms of rats even underground.

Many townspeople at the city gate also witnessed this scene; though they didn't understand what was happening, they felt uneasy and hurried home.

Seeing this, Zhang Jian frowned; this change made him highly alert. At that moment he glanced down the long street, and though he had faintly sensed someone watching him from the shadows earlier, upon closer look there was nothing.

He did not think it was an illusion.

His spiritual sense has always been extremely keen.

After thinking, he still had the soldiers speed up and return first to the county office to report.

Zhang Jian's perception was not mistaken; at that moment, in the corner of the long street, two white-robed grandparents were watching the people entering the city.

「Grandpa, he seems to have noticed us? 」

At this moment, the little boy being led couldn't help but lift his head; curiosity shone in his eyes.

Their family's concealment technique is renowned throughout heaven and earth, yet traces of it were still detected.

The white‑robed old man stroked his beard slightly, merely nodding lightly.

"Indeed, it's very strange!"

Night fell.

After the day's bustle, with nightfall, things began to grow quiet.

Meanwhile, at this moment outside the Zhang family residence, in the darkness, more and more birds began to gather outside the Zhang manor.

Among them was the white bird that had flashed past the prefect's office earlier.

This peculiar white bird was peering toward the depths of the Zhang manor, its eyes darting about, glancing here and there.

"The master's scent must be here!"

"Half of the master's lingering soul resides here!"

The bird coo‑cooed, and in an instant its expression changed, it suddenly fell silent, yet fear lingered in its eyes.

"The master has come!"

As the words fell, a surge of intense yin energy swept in from the darkness, racing forth as if it could shroud clouds and block the moon.

On the long street, countless birds suddenly fell silent, and in the distance a figure in black appeared, as if flying out from a beautiful white moon, drifting to arrive before the Zhang manor.

She wore a black robe, her jade‑like countenance stern, her gaze locked onto the entire Zhang residence; a hint of devouring darkness flickered in her eyes, and boundless resentment surged, as if forged from the limitless grudges of heaven and earth.

"Return my soul!"

A murmuring voice floated up on the dark long street.

She slightly shook her robes, and an immeasurable chill of yin energy burst forth from around her.

Inside the Zhang family ancestral hall, Zhang Jian was at that moment contemplating the strange soul‑seizing technique; sensing the eerie, demon‑like murmur, his expression shifted slightly, he fingered the jewel in his hand and silently shook his head.

He had indeed spoken too soon; the so‑called 'god' of the avian tribe was truly coming for him.

However, he found it odd that although the opponent's arrival caused a great commotion, their revealed cultivation was not particularly strong.

His gaze flickered; after a moment's thought he opened the clan shrine's door and slowly stepped outside.

Yet as he stepped out, one foot remained inside the doorway.

At this moment he also saw on the long street a figure in a black robe of netherworld‑phoenix design.

Under the dim moon, that tall silhouette was especially captivating.

His gaze shifted, and he ventured a tentative question.

"Phoenix?"