Chapter 320: Inspiration: A Great Success

Throwing away poverty and welcoming wealth is a fairly formal occasion, but unlike major holidays like the Kitchen God Festival or Spring Festival, this day is primarily practical.

According to traditional custom, starting from New Year's Eve, households must not dispose of garbage, and this condition lasts until the fourth day, when poverty is thrown out.

The origin of this custom is lost to history, but the current common explanation is that discarding trash during the New Year would also throw out the household's fortune, so one must wait until a specific moment to rid oneself of both misfortune and poverty.

In essence, it's merely a collective act of discarding household waste.

But due to the influence of folk custom and votive power, this practice gradually formed a fixed ritual, and Xuan cultivators also perform various rites on this day solely to prevent the discarded "poverty qi" from spreading wildly and affecting the local economy.

Feng Xue, of course, didn't care much about such matters—he was studying the revised version of "The Xuanwu Cantongqi" that Xiao Lingdang had rushed to revise overnight; it had changed from "Tongxiu Qi" to "Cantongqi" because originally it was only Xuanwu co-cultivation, but now it was triple cultivation with the Xuanwu God.

"Cantong" means both "to reference" and "three methods cultivated together"; the word "God" was omitted because this divine path is Xuan when Xuan, Wu when Wu—a single "Tong" suffices to summarize it.

Though still an ordinary standing posture, Feng Xue now held a Jade Seal in each hand; the pre-adjusted proportions of Qi and votive power slowly stirred, merged, and flowed into his mind sea as his blood and qi circulated, refilling the emptied mana pool.

The newly cultivated mana offered no decisive advantage in casting spells—strictly speaking, it merely allowed slightly better control—but for Feng Xue's undisciplined, lowly spirit, it still couldn't match the precise manipulation of a Dao-entered cultivator, and if he used spell-unit artifacts, this nimbleness would be useless.

Fortunately, Feng Xue knew he sought "practicing method," not "using method"; the mana he cultivated wasn't the goal, but a bridge to the next step.

It must be said that Bai Yi's Wu Xiu cultivation techniques were each unique—some were internal arts such as Cold Ice Force and Crimson Yang Force, others were heart methods that guided defensive Qi through different meridians to confer specific physical enhancements, and when combined with Feng Xue's already understood Five Elements Qi and Ying-Wei circulation system, his physical improvement was imminent.

After finishing the standing posture, Feng Xue wiped the fine sweat from his forehead and looked up—he could see a dark, heavy qi churning above the city; it wasn't violent or dangerous, but resembled the smoke from coal-burning chimneys on winter days back in his childhood, gathering in the air.

"Is this poverty qi? It's truly impressive! But how do you handle this stuff? Where do you send it?"

Feng Xue was quite curious about this grand spectacle, even developing a dangerous thought—

"What if I had Gidora swallow all this poverty qi and unleash the Dragon God's true form—what effect would that have?"

"Don't even think about it!" Mo Ying's voice suddenly cut in; Feng Xue chuckled: "Of course not—deliberately approaching poverty qi would be like saying your luck is too good."

As he prepared to end his Qi-sight technique, a thick black smoke suddenly burst through the dark clouds, unleashing a terrifying aura in an instant.

"What's going on?"

Fortunately, Feng Xue had shut off his Qi-sight, but even that fleeting glimpse caused his eyes to sting and his brain to buzz.

Already in a state of spiritual-physical disharmony from absorbing votive power, this shock sent him crouching on the ground, tears streaming uncontrollably from his squinted eyes.

Fortunately, after discovering the risks of absorbing votive power, Feng Xue had prepared a countermeasure—he immediately pulled a Clear Mind Talisman and Spell from his pocket, poured mana into it, and began casting it on himself nonstop.

It had no effect on spiritual-physical disharmony, but it effectively calmed mental shock; Feng Xue's spirit had merely been shaken, and after continuously casting over a dozen Clear Mind Talismans and Spells, he finally recovered.

"You scared me to death!" Liu Yunxi rushed out the moment she sensed trouble, sighed in relief, and reached to help Feng Xue up, ready to lead him inside to rest.

But Feng Xue precisely halted her motion, frowning as he stared toward the direction where the turbid votive power had erupted—

"Xiao Lingdang, pull up the port city map—find out what's at the location where the turbid votive power just exploded!"

"Understood, Master." Xiao Lingdang's voice sounded from his smart wristwatch, and a 3D map of the port city materialized.

Feng Xue's consciousness linked with Xiao Lingdang; even that fleeting impression was instantly marked on the map—

"Report, Master: the target area is near Shenshuigang in Gangdu City, located on land. Here is the surrounding building and population distribution."

Lines of text appeared beside the map; Feng Xue studied the annotations and quickly noticed the issue—

"Long Wang Temple? (Note ①)"

It was normal for ports to venerate the Long Wang; under different circumstances or locations, Feng Xue wouldn't have thought twice—but not long ago, he'd noticed that storytellers on both Yangrenjie and Miao Street were simultaneously telling stories mocking the Long Wang!

"So those storytellers were indeed orchestrated? No, probably not—it's more likely someone hired them specifically to tell these Duan Zi, and no elaborate planning was needed; just toss a few coins and ask them to perform one—common for performers in this era. Don't even mention Nezha stirring the sea or the Eight Immortals crossing the sea—if you pay enough, they'll even spit lotus flowers or perform Wu Zhuizi!"

Feng Xue couldn't say he was slow to realize—he simply never thought a group of storytellers telling tales could have such an impact.

But now, looking back, he found it all too familiar—why was it so familiar?

"Isn't this the Exorcism Spell?"

Feng Xue grinned, thinking carefully—it was nearly an exact replica of his operation in He Zujie, except the entertainment medium had shifted from livestreaming to storytelling.

Hearing the words "Exorcism Spell," Liu Yunxi also realized—she gazed at the vast, sky-to-earth vortex and frowned:

"So someone's trying to summon a Long Wang phantom spirit? But what's their goal? Surely they don't have a faith seed too?"

"Maybe it's a suicide attack?"

Feng Xue recalled the water-vein votive power from the Japanese man's mind and immediately remembered the previous divination verse—he said:

"Let's go—pack up, get ready to leave!"

"Huh? Are we crossing again?" Liu Yunxi's face darkened—she'd already converted debt to equity; couldn't she at least settle her accounts? Otherwise, if they left again, she'd surely be mistaken for skipping out on payment again!

Hearing this, Feng Xue shook his head:

"What are you thinking? Didn't you forget how Xiao Lingdang calculated it? Rigidity breaks easily—we must cling to the righteous path! Pack up our gear—we're going to the City God Temple!"

(End of Chapter)