Chapter 172: Spiritual Pressure Overwhelms the Villagers, Causing Them to Faint

Driver, what's the deal with this whole truckload of silver ingots?

The village entrance was packed with people, and a nosy old woman immediately stepped forward to inquire.

The driver casually said:

"It's booked by Miss Lin; I'm waiting here for her arrangements. What's up? You don't allow parking at the village entrance?"

The old woman waved her hand, unable to stop staring at the back of the truck, thinking, "My goodness, this big truckload of tin‑foil ingots must be worth at least twenty or thirty thousand!"

Nobody in their village does this business, and lately no one has died there either.

Even if someone had died, who would buy that much paper money?

"You said Miss Lin—do you know her name? Our village is Lin Jia Cun; basically everyone there surnames Lin."

The old woman wouldn't give up, chasing after the driver to ask.

The driver grew impatient: "It doesn't matter whose it is, as long as it's not yours."

The old woman, feeling annoyed after being talked back to, returned to the crowd and burst out cursing.

"The delivery people are so arrogant—I want to see whose ingots these are; buying this much, could the whole family have died?!"

The old woman's words made some villagers who are taboo about life and death a little dissatisfied.

"You woman, watch your mouth— the deceased come first; if you're just here for the spectacle, why curse others?"

"Exactly, I'd say you're eighty percent motivated by money."

Everyone understands that a truckload of silver ingots like this couldn't possibly cost less than twenty or thirty thousand; their village simply doesn't have that kind of wealth.

Suddenly, everyone's hearts skipped a beat in unison.

Speaking of being wealthy and overbearing, there actually seems to be such a person.

Hadn't Lin Meng burned a lot of paper money for her grandfather at the gravesite before?

"Could it be Lin Meng? She burned paper money for Old Man Lin before, didn't she? Even outside of festivals."

"Is it her? Last time she didn't burn that paper‑made house, did she? Buying one of those isn't cheap."

"You're talking about Lin Meng? I think it's impossible—she probably just made a token gesture before, spending a few thousand to earn a good reputation, which I'd do too, but this is different; this is a whole truckload of ingots."

Just as the villagers were arguing, Lin Meng drove up in a luxury car, her clear voice soon carrying over.

"You guessed right—this truckload of ingots is what I bought!"

No sooner had her words fallen than Lin Meng's figure appeared before everyone's eyes.

Ye Chenjing immediately got out of the car, standing beside Lin Meng; his tall, handsome posture instantly drew countless gazes.

"Who is he? He's even more handsome than those TV stars."

"Good grief, isn't this just the overbearing CEO my granddaughter always talks about? Look at his appearance and clothes—obviously a rich person!"

"Our village couldn't attract such a big boss; he's here with Lin Meng—could he be the one Wang Fang and Li Qiaohui mentioned, the person who keeps Lin Meng as a kept woman outside?"

In an instant, everyone looked at Lin Meng with contempt.

Although they themselves lack morals, it doesn't stop them from enjoying gossip.

"It seems Wang Fang was right—Lin Meng was never a good person, and she's already latched onto a rich man this quickly."

"Although Wang Fang isn't any better either—didn't she herself send her daughter to that gold‑digger class? They're equally bad, always targeting Lin Meng, surely because Lin Meng is more capable than her daughter, and she's already succeeded in moving up."

"That's the Socialite Class—it's all because of that slut Wang Fang; after that incident spread, my daughter doesn't even want to work anymore, saying she wants to go to town to find a rich man, asking me to help her enroll in the class, but where would I get the money?"

"Tsk tsk, truly sinful—the whole village's morals have been twisted by their family; Lin Meng is even worse, directly bringing a rich man back to the village to flaunt her wealth, as if afraid we wouldn't know she's living well."

""

In a moment, the villagers gave Lin Meng no pleasant looks.

Several idle young women in the village stared at Ye Chenjing with unwavering eyes, green light seemingly flashing, feeling quite uneasy.

We're all village girls—why would such an outstanding man take a liking to Lin Meng, but not us?

Ye Chenjing couldn't stand so many people spreading rumors about Lin Meng; his face turned cold, and he looked at each person as if they were dead.

Lin Meng felt a chill all over, sensing Ye Chenjing's mood was off, and quickly patted his arm, speaking softly:

"Don't worry, I'm used to it; they're just loud‑mouthed, and they can't get anything from me."

"It's your first time in our village—adjust a bit; the locals' manners aren't great, many have mouths like sewers, with no filter, saying whatever they want."

"Their mouths are on them; if I had to retort every time someone spoke, I'd exhaust myself, so it's best to ignore them—I actually quite enjoy seeing them envy, resent, and hate me but be unable to do anything about it."

Lin Meng said it lightly, but Ye Chenjing listening couldn't help feeling heart‑ached.

What kind of environment had she lived in before? Each hurtful word from these villagers could shatter a fragile‑hearted girl.

Yet Lin Meng could smile and say she didn't mind, that she was used to it.

In an instant, Ye Chenjing's fist clenched at his side with a crack; if Lin Meng weren't present, he would have already moved to deal with that rabble.

Then another villager stepped forward, pointing at Lin Meng's truckload of ingots and saying:

"Lin Meng, what are you doing with all these ingots? It's not a festival—are you planning to burn paper money for your grandfather again?"

Lin Meng couldn't be bothered to reply, simply answering indifferently, "What's it to you?"

The villagers were instantly startled.

"How can we not mind? Good for you, Lin Meng—having a bit of money from a man, you're starting to show off, right? Burning a truckload of ingots—who are you trying to impress?"

"Doing this makes us look unfilial; if our ancestors take offense and withdraw their blessings, what then? I oppose this!"

"Exactly, last time when you collected the vegetable fields, you drove the price down so low—we still remember that bill!"

"You selfish person, burning more paper money won't bring your grandfather back to life—just spare the effort. Using money from being a kept woman to fund filial piety—what kind of nonsense is that? Old Man Lin, even in the springs below, would be embarrassed for you!"

"That old immortal Lin Cong Shan, dead all these years and still not letting us rest—this family has nothing good!"

The usual gossip was just background noise to Lin Meng—she let it go in one ear and out the other, treating it like a few dog barks, rolling her eyes and moving on.

But now, someone actually dared to spout nonsense about her deceased grandfather; in an instant Lin Meng's aura erupted, unable to hold back her anger, her spiritual power surging, and in a moment wind and clouds rose.

A sudden burst of energy howled as it lunged at a group of villagers, and in an instant they were thrown to the ground, horses and people overturned.

Lin Meng looked down from above at the lowly commoner who had just cursed her grandfather as an "old immortal", her eyes icy, her tone frosty; for the first time she mobilized the spiritual power within her body, creating an aura of pressure.

A powerful sense of oppression surged instantly; the man felt as if a great mountain had suddenly pressed down from above his head, and Lin Meng seemed to transform into an Asura demon god, staring fixedly at him.

The next second, his legs went weak and he was knocked unconscious by the pressure.