Chapter 220: Volume 1 Chapter 220 – I See Your Hall of Impression Is Dark (8)

"Even if I'm not dead, I'll be cried to death by you." Jiang Zhi got up from the ground, dug her ears, annoyed by the noise.

This is a deep mountain forest; as soon as the original owner and the young man came down the mountain, they sensed the evil ghost's traces and followed them to a patch of graveyard. A hundred years ago this was a chaotic burial ground where thousands of bodies of those who died with grievances were interred, the yin energy extremely heavy, so the original owner pretended to be dead to scare his senior brother.

Senior Brother Wang Xiaolin heard the voice, overjoyed, wiped the tears from his eyes, and exclaimed excitedly: "Xiao Zhi! Senior Brother, you scared half my life away; thank goodness you're not dead, otherwise I'd have to go down and keep you company."

Jiang Zhi looked at the foolish, inarticulate young man and gave him a shut‑up gesture.

Eerie winds swirled around; the evil ghost hiding nearby still lurked, hoping to seize the opportunity to take their lives.

Wang Xiaolin sensed something was wrong, grabbed Jiang Zhi's wrist, and ran.

Jiang Zhi staggered a few steps, tripping several times and almost falling.

This senior brother really is a master of escape; running wildly through the woods, he completely shook off the evil ghost.

He let out a breath, stopped, and caught his breath.

Jiang Zhi was puzzled: "What are you running from?"

Wang Xiaolin said nervously: "There's a ghost."

Jiang Zhi asked, "Didn't we come down the mountain to exorcise ghosts?"

Wang Xiaolin belatedly realized and said, "Ah, right."

Saying this, he sheepishly laughed and said, "I got so nervous I accidentally forgot."

Jiang Zhi didn't know what to say, left speechless.

Before going down the mountain, the master had assigned them a task: not only to exorcise ghosts, but also to earn a certain amount of merit before they could return.

They had no money on them, and Jiangcheng was getting closer; from now on they could no longer rely on begging to fill their stomachs.

The original owner had a remarkable talent for exorcising ghosts; his eyes could distinguish yin and yang in spirits and see the merit on each person.

Merit is earned by doing good deeds; it is graded white, cyan, blue, orange, gold, purple, with later grades indicating more merit.

However, the original owner and Senior Brother Wang Xiaolin had little merit; aside from having exorcised a few ghosts together with the master before, their merit had shifted from pure white to a light cyan.

Merit affects one's fortune; reaching the orange or gold level allows one to join the ranks of immortals. Purple aura, however, is innate—present from birth—and unless one was an emperor in a past life, no amount of good deeds can attain it.

If one does nothing but evil, merit turns into karma, filling the body with dark, gloomy qi that evil ghosts love; such a person is prone to an untimely death, and after death they will be cast into the appropriate level of the eighteen hells according to their sins, never to be reborn.

Jiang Zhi's most important task right now is to find the antagonist, Yu Beihan.

She doesn't know how long it has been, how far the plot has progressed; recalling her last conversation with him, she hopes he won't do evil, and she doesn't know whether he heeded her.

Wang Xiaolin said, "Hey, I see a car!"

At the end of the road a bright beam appeared, the high‑beam headlights of a car.

In such a desolate wilderness, no one expected a car to pass, but Jiang Zhi naturally wouldn't let the chance slip; she stood by the roadside and waved.

It was an old, rundown minivan, moving slowly; when the driver saw the two people standing by the road, he hurriedly pressed the accelerator and sped off.

It left a cloud of exhaust behind.

Wang Xiaolin stood there, muttering, "We're not ghosts either."

Jiang Zhi glanced at the young man in a Daoist robe beside her, then looked at herself—she too wore an old Daoist robe patched with many repairs.

Their strange attire looked rather spooky in the night.

The Daoist temple wasn't poor; the master often came down the mountain to help exorcise ghosts, earning enough to support them.

But the master had always taught them self‑reliance, so this time he gave them no money at all when they went down the mountain, wanting them to support themselves by their own abilities.

But now, let alone supporting themselves, whether they can even make it to the capital, Jiangcheng, is a question.

"Another car!" he exclaimed, his thoughts still racing, Wang Xiaolin delighted.

This time he put his talent for hailing vehicles to use, standing alone in the middle of the road and frantically waving his arms.

What stopped was a large truck; the screech of its brakes split the quiet night.

The driver opened the door, intending to say a few words, but upon seeing their clothing he swallowed his words and was about to get in and drive off without another thought.

Wang Xiaolin wouldn't let him go, almost wearing out his lips talking to him for a long time.

The driver wasn't a bad person either, and in the end he let them board.

"It's not close to Jiangcheng from here," the driver said.

In his peripheral vision he glanced at the girl who had been quiet since boarding; she looked young, wore a Daoist robe yet had a different aura, and the young man in the back also wore a Daoist robe, both seeming somewhat out of place.

Wang Xiaolin was a chatterbox: "It's all right, Master; if you're on our way, give us a ride—we're already extremely grateful."

The driver and Wang Xiaolin chatted away, talking all the way to the station, getting along swimmingly.

Even when getting off, he still felt a bit reluctant to part.

The girl, who had not spoken a word on the road, suddenly handed him a talisman before getting off and uttered a puzzling remark.

"On the way home, drive as slowly as you can, keep to the right, and don't respond to any sounds you hear on the road."

The driver gave their retreating backs a strange look, then lowered his head to examine the yellow talisman in his hand, turning it over and over—it was just an ordinary talisman with nothing special about it.

He didn't believe in gods or ghosts, but he still slipped the talisman into his pocket.

He started the truck's engine, drove to the construction site, stopped, worked the whole night shift, his body exhausted, then drove his own sedan back home to sleep.

As soon as he got in the car he recalled the girl's words; the urge to speed home faded for a moment, and he still followed her advice, slowing down a bit and keeping as far right as possible.

As he passed a three‑way intersection, he suddenly heard a voice from behind.

"Green light, go!"

"It's a green light!"

"Can't you drive? The light's green and you're still not moving?"

The driver frowned, wanting to turn his head to see who was speaking, but before his head could move, a burning sensation struck his chest, instantly clearing his mind.

He opened his eyes to see two elderly people slowly walking across the crosswalk ahead, the conspicuous red light reflected in his vision.

Cold sweat broke out on his back, and he only moved forward when the light turned green.

All the way back home, he hurried upstairs to his residence, took out that Talisman from his bosom; the originally intact yellow talisman had now burned to black ash.

The wife who was preparing breakfast in the kitchen heard the noise and came out, seeing his deathly pale face, she asked strangely, "What's wrong with you?"

The master wiped sweat from his forehead and said in a trembling voice, "I almost had an accident."

He didn't know who that female student was, but without her reminder and the yellow talisman, he probably would have already run over those two old people.

It's really thanks to her.

—

On the other side.

Wang Xiaolin, who had just gotten off the truck, looked puzzled: "Xiao Zhi, why did you give him a Talisman?"

That Talisman is a low‑grade exorcism talisman; petty spirits will disperse and vanish as soon as they get close, and it is still useful against some ghosts.

But he had just looked, and the truck driver's whole body had no ghost clinging to him.