Chapter 50: The Introduction Dice Finally Succeeded

The old monk spoke calmly and kindly, but given what had happened earlier, even those who didn't know him understood he was not someone they could provoke; the lounge, which had just relaxed, fell silent once more, as the old monk continued:

"The one sent to capture the ghost was my disciple, who has been initiated into the Dao for over a decade; his spiritual power ranks among the finest among the Xuan Xiu. Yet yesterday morning, during my morning meditation, I found his life lamp extinguished. I inquired at the rice shop, then went to Yangyang Village to investigate—only to discover the entire village had no living souls left. The villagers all died in their sleep, with no signs of struggle; yet my disciple died differently—his throat was locked by sharp fangs, his heart pierced by claws."

"Zombie?" Many in the room harbored this thought, some even voiced it aloud; the old monk nodded in response, and the county magistrate seized the opportunity to reclaim the floor:

"Upon receiving the report, the county immediately dispatched personnel to handle it, but we found neither the malevolent ghost nor the zombie. We planned to alert surrounding villages to increase vigilance, but last night the county's protective artifact suddenly stirred. This morning, upon investigation, we confirmed two more deaths—both with their vital energy completely drained. We suspect the ghost and zombie have now entered the county seat, which is why we've gathered you all here. As for Daoist Chen, he has gone to pursue the ghost."

The magistrate spoke plainly, yet many in the room cast him suspicious glances.

It was called a "gathering," but in truth, it was an act of distrust.

After all, among those present—Wu Xiu and Xuan Xiu alike—excluding only the monk and priest beside the magistrate, fewer than two handfuls had truly entered the Dao; the rest, even if they knew some spells or martial techniques, could only deal with weak wild ghosts or shambling corpses. This ghost, capable of killing a Dao-initiated master, was beyond their reach.

Thus, the real reason was likely that the magistrate suspected the malevolent ghost and zombie were bred by heretical cultivators, which is why he summoned every new and old Xuan Xiu, and every Wu Xiu capable of channeling vital energy—to see if anyone carried the taint of heresy.

But it seems no flaws were found; otherwise, he would have smashed his cup as a signal, demonstrating his grand strategy.

Yet those who saw through it said nothing. Even if they resented the magistrate's actions, none reacted—only waiting silently for his long-winded rambling to end.

Yes, rambling.

In the end, whether zombie or malevolent ghost, the methods to deal with them are fixed. 所谓商量—what was called "discussion"—was nothing more than setting up defenses, increasing patrols, installing alarms, raising alert levels; at most, those with ability would prepare talismans and holy water, or buy glutinous rice, dog's blood, cinnabar, and such.

Feng Xue glanced over his shoulder and saw the magistrate couldn't see his position; he lowered his head, as he once had in class while reading novels, and pulled out a book to study.

The magistrate didn't notice, but many nearby did—yet any Xuan Xiu who saw Feng Xue's "jewel-bedecked" appearance would know this was no ordinary person.

After all, even Dao-initiated Xuan Xiu rarely cultivate more than one or two artifacts. Yet this man radiated at least a dozen spiritual glows from his artifacts—such a person must either belong to a powerful sect that left him vast treasures, or have numerous senior mentors who doted on him so much that each gifted him an artifact upon departure, or else he's maintained a retinue of death-servants who sacrificed their lives to nourish his artifacts.

Whichever the case, he was a dangerous figure not to be trifled with. As for killing him to seize his treasures—never mind whether the karmic cost was worth it, first you'd have to ensure that after killing him, neither his earthly sect nor his ancestral spirits in the Underworld could find you.

Thus, most Xuan Xiu, upon seeing Feng Xue at this moment, glanced once and turned away. Some Wu Xiu, seeing the book in his hand bearing the Hua Family Martial Arts Hall mark, simply ignored him. Only the head of the Hua Family Martial Arts Hall, nearby, felt a complex mix of emotions—wondering whether this young man's true identity was worth curiosity, or fearing the magistrate might spot him and make things difficult.

…

After a string of rambling, the Xuan Xiu and Wu Xiu each returned home, but the magistrate remained in the lounge.

Once everyone had gone far enough and he confirmed no one was eavesdropping, the magistrate finally spoke:

"Two Masters, have you noticed anything?"

The priest hesitated, opened his mouth, then remembered this wasn't his homeland, and shook his head, closing his lips. The magistrate turned to the old monk:

"Master Yijing?"

Hearing the magistrate call his name, the old monk could only sigh and shake his head:

"There are indeed a few who keep spirit ghosts or living souls, but none carry malevolent qi or blood qi—they are unrelated to the malevolent ghost or zombie."

"What about the man who entered the city yesterday?" the magistrate pressed again. Master Yijing thought for a moment, then still shook his head:

"That Young Master comes from an illustrious lineage—I cannot discern his sect. But with his cultivation level, even with a malevolent ghost or zombie aiding him, he would still be no match for Zhenxin."

"Sigh… then let us hope Daoist Chen achieves something." The magistrate, hearing Master Yijing's certainty, could only shake his head. But the priest in the clerical robe could no longer hold back:

"In my view, we should douse the entire city with holy water—any evil presence would surely be revealed."

"No!" Master Yijing immediately spoke up:

"Jing Sect holy water is far too intense. Within this county, publicly there are yin officers and ghost soldiers; privately, there are spirit ghosts and phantom deities. If we follow your suggestion, we won't even find the malevolent ghost before the city descends into chaos."

The priest suppressed his resentment, thinking: In my homeland, these ghosts would long ago have been cast into the fiery hell—how could they dare steal miracles meant for the Divine in the mortal realm?

Yet he understood he, as an outsider, must not incite public anger; if the magistrate opposed, he could not force his will.

He did not know that the magistrate opposed not because of the ghosts—but simply because he couldn't afford it.

Jing Sect divine grace is begged for; since it is begged, it comes at a cost. If it were only one house or one street, he could grit his teeth and pay—perhaps even solicit donations from wealthy gentry. But the entire city? Even if he raised taxes for eighty years, he still couldn't afford it!

…

Leaving aside the magistrate's turmoil, Feng Xue had finally returned home and, following the postures in the "Strengthening the Body" manual, began attempting to stretch his sinews and bones.

The "Mausoleum Secret Manual" also contained body cultivation sections, but since Feng Xue's Qi extraction naturally overflowed, and since the past few days since his transmigration had been spent either traveling or practicing spells, he hadn't found time—now that he intended to cultivate both magic and martial arts, he naturally had to train.

Dynamic stances require static stances as foundation, and static stances require abundant blood and qi; Feng Xue decided to begin with the "Strengthening the Body" and "Nourishing the Origin" techniques, as outlined in the general precepts.

But…

"You look like a person!"

Liu Yunxi landed steadily, as Feng Xue's command followed:

"Go make some hearty dishes."

"Huh?" Liu Yunxi blinked, glanced at the wall clock, then asked puzzled: "It's only three-something?"

"Just do it!" Feng Xue rolled his eyes, then pulled from his pocket a jade tablet engraved with the character "Eat," smiling:

"Cultivating both magic and martial arts? Naturally, you take the shortcut!"

(Mo Ying's prototype: my wife Xi Bao. I really wanted to use AI to generate one myself, but my stupid 【BEEP—】 AI can't handle ink-wash style. Net image used, copyright removed.)

You see the protagonist training step by step, unaware he's already skipped four or five introductory nodes…

Master Qian returned to hear the ancestral master say his two wastrel disciples had sold the Cultivation Technique, and went to warn them about taboos—but couldn't find them, and accidentally missed the zombie plotline on Master Qian's side.

Buying a spirit ghost? Got scammed by the Port Gang and lost it outright.

Along the railway, chose one of three places to rest—picked the only village that passed the night safely.

Thank goodness this one worked—I was worried this guy would keep failing the introduction and drag a whole lineup of bosses behind him like a boss squad. (Laughs…)

PS: When buying a pillow for the New Year, I noticed a problem: Tuti, ranked #1 on the Herb List, has almost no decent pillow designs…

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(End of Chapter)