Chapter 126: Broken Talisman Snares the Soul, Secret Medicine Bewitches the Heart

Struck in the chest by Lin Xue's palm, he staggered back.

This change happened in the blink of an eye!

The lackey sent flying by Zhang Jun struggled to get up from the ground.

His face, which had been somewhat normal, was now twisted out of shape, his eyes glowing with a frightening red light, and a "heh-heh" strange sound came from his throat.

His body twisted at a completely unnatural angle, his bones and joints cracking with a steady "ka-ka" sound.

A stench of corpse so thick it made one want to vomit drifted from his body.

His speed and strength were more than double what they had been, and he lunged at Zhang Jun again!

Half-corpse puppet!

Zhang Jun's heart sank; the Zhou family really was dabbling in this evil heresy!

He held nothing back, driving the pure yang energy from his dantian up to his head, and a faint halo seemed to spin in the center of his right palm.

That scorching force, which specifically countered yin evil, gathered entirely at a single point.

Facing the lunging corpse puppet, he did not dodge or evade, slamming his palm solidly into its chest!

"Sizzle——!"

Like a red-hot branding iron searing into rotting flesh.

A large plume of black smoke burst from the corpse puppet's chest, and it let out a piercing wail so shrill no human could produce it.

The pure yang gang energy surged in, crushing and shredding the yin-evil things that animated its body into a pulpy mess.

The corpse puppet's body convulsed violently, its flesh and skin quickly collapsing, turning black and carbonizing.

Finally, with a "bang," it collapsed to the ground, utterly still, leaving only a puddle of foul-smelling, charred black matter.

Zhou Qian's pupils contracted sharply!

He stared fixedly at Zhang Jun's hand, still emitting a bit of heat, then glanced at the pile of completely ruined corpse puppet on the ground, and for the first time shock appeared on his face.

This person's strength, especially how his pure yang technique countered their own evil arts, completely exceeded his expectations!

He cannot be allowed to live!

Zhou Qian hesitated not at all, fiercely pulling a dark wooden talisman from his bosom and crushing it hard!

"Boom!"

A thick black mist that could not be dispersed instantly exploded from the place where the talisman shattered, enveloping him and the remaining lackey.

The black mist roiled, carrying strong energy fluctuations and an even stronger fishy stench.

Zhang Jun and Lin Xue both went on guard. But that black mist also dissipated quickly.

In just two or three breaths, the black mist vanished—no trace of Zhou Qian or his lackey remained at the spot.

The corner of Pan Family Garden fell into a momentary dead silence, leaving only a sprawl of twisted, charred black humanoid remains exuding a nauseating mix of burnt and rotten odors. The air still retained the special yin-cold medicinal powder scent left after the black mist dispersed, sticking clammily to the skin.

Zhang Jun crouched, lightly brushing his fingers over the pile of carbonized matter; his fingertip's pure yang energy flowed, producing an extremely faint "hiss" that dispersed a little of the residual yin-evil energy. The refining method was crude and vicious, forcibly draining potential, treating people as less than human.

He rose and walked to the spot where Zhou Qian had just disappeared. On the ground, aside from a little oily stain from condensed black mist, there remained a trace of energy so weak it was almost impossible to detect.

It was not mere yin energy; it carried a slight strange fluctuation of warped space, plus a very faint marker, like a fragment of some kind of coordinate.

Zhang Jun closed his eyes. He gently mobilized the pure yang energy in his dantian that carried a hint of chill, carefully touching that residual trace.

As soon as his energy made contact, a fleeting direction flashed in his mind, like a candle flame in the wind—flickering and then gone.

Want to pursue? Difficult. This escape talisman is quite exquisitely made; the Zhou family hid it deeper than expected.

Returning to the inn, the sky had already darkened. News from the Qin family arrived shortly after.

It wasn't Qin Yueyao, but an unfamiliar middle-aged man who delivered a wax pill. Zhang Jun crushed the wax pill and pulled out a slip of paper; Qin Yueyao's handwriting was elegant and delicate.

It read that Zhou Qian used a "Yin Escape Blood Talisman," which must be refined with the practitioner's essence blood; when activated it allows a short-distance escape, but at great cost.

The method for making such talismans has long been lost; that the Zhou family could obtain one means there is surely something fishy behind it.

It also mentioned that Liu San ye's condition had stabilized; his father said that tomorrow at noon, at the Qin family manor, they would settle the matter.

At the end of the note, an extra line was added: Doctor Zhang's pure yang inner strength just happens to counter this kind of evil art, and the Qin family is willing to help.

Zhang Jun rubbed the note into powder. The faint sense of tracking at his fingertip was completely severed.

The Qin family's timing in sending this news was truly opportune—a friendly gesture, a reminder, yet also carrying a subtle, unspoken calculation.

He pushed open Lin Xue's room door. The temperature inside was frighteningly low, the curtains drawn tight, the light dim.

Lin Xue sat with her back to the door at the table, motionless. There was a puddle of water on the tabletop.

Her fair fingers unconsciously dipped in the water, repeatedly drawing something on the table surface.

Zhang Jun approached, his steps very light.

Lin Xue was drawing a symbol, extremely complex, only half-finished; the lines twisted and coiled, exuding an indescribable air of ancient eeriness.

The appearance of this symbol bore some inexplicable connection to the energy imprint left by Zhou Qian's escape talisman, but it was more complex and deeper.

Lin Xue's breathing was very shallow, her body trembling slightly.

She seemed to be sunk into something, unresponsive to the outside world.

Zhang Jun noticed her hand resting on the table edge, her knuckles whitening from strain.

"Cold......"

She suddenly whispered a single word, her voice faint, heavy with weariness, mixed with an unstoppable fear.

"So many eyes……staring……icy cold……" Again, those chaotic, miscellaneous memories.

Zhang Jun made no sound to disturb her, simply standing beside her. The corpse puppet in Pan Family Garden and the evil qi on Zhou Qian likely stirred something hidden in her heart.

After a while, Lin Xue's body relaxed, as if she had broken free from a nightmare. She lifted her head, saw the half-finished symbol she had drawn on the table, her pupils contracted slightly, then quickly returned to her usual cool indifference.

She raised her hand to wipe away the water stain, moving quickly with a hint of resistance. Zhang Jun said nothing, taking out the two fragments from his bosom.

Bronze base, with dark blue crystals.

He placed the fragments side by side on the table, beside where the water-stain symbol had been.

The fragments had just been set down.

The faint aura left from Lin Xue's talisman suddenly reacted with the two fragments.

An extremely subtle resonance.

On the fragments' surface, the ancient patterns faintly lit up, and an indescribable energy fluctuation flowed among the three.

Lin Xue's body tensed again.

She glanced at the two fragments, then at her own finger that had just drawn the talisman.

"They..." she said, her voice dry, "they are connected."

It's not just a connection.

The Zhou family's evil arts, Lin Xue's discarded memories, the Medicine Sect's inheritance, and these two mysterious fragments...

All the clues began to entwine together, pointing toward an indistinct center.

The night grew darker.

Only the last day remained of the three days Qin Xiaotian had mentioned.

The knocking sounded again.

This time, Qin Yueyao stood outside the door.

She had changed into a deep blue cheongsam, still simple, but more solemn than during the day.

"My father sent me to ask how your preparations are."