Chapter 96: The Tiger Daoist

Tiger demon?!

Li Yan’s pupils shrank slightly, shock giving way to a flicker of killing intent.

In this sacred land of Zhongnan, within the ancient Yaowang Temple, a demon had stolen the divine seat and devoured the people’s incense offerings.

It was an outright reversal of cosmic order!

Zhum~

As if stirred by his killing intent, the Three Talismans of Demon Subjugation suddenly activated, swaying in the wind, radiating waves of icy lethal energy.

The temple had always been surrounded by divine gang.

In such a place, using a talisman was harmless if one first prayed to the deity and explained one’s intent—it could even bring divine blessing.

Just as before, in the Land God temple of Li Family Fortress.

But to act recklessly would invite rejection—especially when one’s killing intent targeted the divine statue itself.

Instantly, the illusions before Li Yan vanished.

Worse, a tiger’s roar seemed to echo in his ears, shaking his soul as if his head had been struck by a hammer—his vision darkened, his head spun, and he staggered, barely standing.

“Leave quickly!”

A frantic voice came from beside him.

Li Yan heard clearly—it was Wang Daoxuan.

Fighting back his dizziness, he allowed himself to be supported, stumbling rapidly out of the Yaowang Temple.

Along the way, pilgrims stared at them in curiosity.

Wang Daoxuan paid them no mind, helping Li Yan off the mountain path to a secluded, empty spot, then sighed in relief, astonished: “Did you get possessed? How dare you strike at the Yaowang?”

Li Yan had now recovered, carefully sensing—his spirit was unharmed, merely shaken by the tiger’s roar; no Great Luo Divine Body was needed to heal.

“I truly got possessed.”

Li Yan’s face darkened as he recounted what he had seen.

“This… is impossible!”

Wang Daoxuan drew a sharp breath, incredulous: “I don’t doubt you—but this is too bizarre.”

“Spirit possession of statues isn’t rare—I’ve encountered one myself.”

“But that’s only because ordinary people don’t understand—they blindly bring home a Buddha or deity statue and worship it fervently, unaware that the statue must be consecrated and infused with sacred essence to generate true divine gang and protect the home. Blind worship only invites dark, impure entities.”

“This is Zhongnan Mountain—the Yaowang Temple has stood for a thousand years, rebuilt countless times, always overseen by masters of the Xuan Gate. How could this happen?”

Li Yan said gravely: “I saw it with my own eyes. I’m certain.”

Wang Daoxuan knew well that Li Yan could commune with spirits; a thought struck him. “Didn’t you once receive help from a Mountain God at the graveyard?”

“The temple deity only issued a warning, not harm. Perhaps… there’s more to this.”

“Forget it. Let it be.”

Li Yan thought for a moment, then shook his head: “I haven’t even settled human matters—how could I waste time on ghosts and gods…”

Before he finished speaking, the illusion reappeared before him.

The stone altar again, the tiger clad in Daoist robes, wide-eyed with white forehead, fierce and imposing.

Li Yan was startled at first, but quickly calmed.

He was now beyond the reach of the temple’s incense; even if the creature meant harm, they had time to prepare.

Upon closer inspection, he noticed something odd.

The tiger showed signs of age—even white whiskers like a human’s had grown. Its eyes were fierce, yet its gaze was clear, calm, and upright.

In its paw, it held a copper ring.

Who exactly is this creature? Could it truly have no ill intent…?

As Li Yan pondered, the tiger slowly raised its paw. The illusion dissolved like mist, then reformed into a new scene.

A mountain ravine, thick with trees. A Daoist lay among the grass, wounded on his right abdomen, eyes closed, alive or dead…

After the illusion faded, Li Yan was speechless, and told Wang Daoxuan what he had seen.

“It’s asking you to save him.”

Wang Daoxuan chuckled. “I don’t know the cause, but it must be a blessed deity. Besides, saving a life accumulates merit.”

Li Yan shook his head. “The problem is, I don’t know where.”

Wang Daoxuan pondered. “It shouldn’t be far. And if I’m right, it’s this temple’s Daoist priest.”

“Rest here. I’ll go inquire.”

Saying this, he hurried back toward the temple.

Li Yan shook his head slightly, unsurprised.

Wang Daoxuan was always like this—sincere, warm-hearted, with high moral boundaries: knowing what to do and what not to do. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have become friends.

Having lived two lives, he had, in some unseen way, seen through many things.

Sha Life loved to take advantage; his own nature was cold and edged with malice. If only the two of them were involved, they’d likely be fighting someone now—or already wanted by the authorities.

Soon, Wang Daoxuan emerged from the temple, followed by two young Daoist acolytes, both visibly anxious.

“It’s the temple keeper.”

Wang Daoxuan said: “They say the temple keeper went up the mountain to gather herbs and hasn’t returned for two days.”

One acolyte cried urgently: “There’ve been many patients seeking medicine these two days. Master said he’d go to White Mist Gorge to gather herbs, with Brother Lin accompanying him. We thought…”

Li Yan waved his hand. “Don’t waste time. Tell me on the way.”

Since they’d decided to save the man, they needed results. The Daoist in the vision was in bad shape—if they arrived too late, he might be dead.

On the way, the two acolytes hurried along, explaining the situation.

This Yaowang Temple was also a lineage of Xuan Gate Daoist physicians. Though few in number, it had maintained a thousand years of uninterrupted incense.

The temple keeper’s Daoist name was Chen Yuan. Besides tending the temple and cultivating, he gathered herbs to treat nearby villagers, often refusing payment, and his medical skill was exceptional.

The temple’s incense had flourished because of this lineage.

Recently, during the temple fair, medicinal herbs were heavily depleted. Normally, acolytes handled herb-gathering, but Chen Yuan said two herbs were hard to find, so he went himself.

In the past, Chen Yuan would be gone for days when gathering herbs, and this time he had a lay disciple with him—yet something still went wrong.

Li Yan and Wang Daoxuan exchanged glances, both understanding.

No wonder the temple deity had manifested to seek help—the temple keeper was vital to the incense. As for why the demon had taken the Yaowang’s seat, they’d likely know once they found the man.

As Wang Daoxuan suspected, the incident site wasn’t far—but it was extremely remote, far from any path.

They climbed, then trekked along steep slopes, crossing two ridges, until they reached the edge of a cliff.

The cliff wasn’t tall, but extremely sheer, shrouded in mist—nothing below could be seen.

“Wait for my signal.”

Li Yan instructed, then took the coarse hemp rope from the acolyte, tied it to a sturdy pine tree, and slowly descended the cliff face.

Though he couldn’t fly or scale walls, he was a martial cultivator—his eyesight and agility far surpassed ordinary men. He found footholds along the slope and soon reached the bottom.

The scene matched the vision exactly.

Among the grass lay a Daoist—still alive.

Yet Li Yan did not move rashly.

Beside the Daoist stood an animal.

Long face, black snout, white-tipped horns, black eyes, staring at him motionless—looking almost foolish. A takin!

Li Yan recognized it well.

The problem: this takin bore faint traces of gang-sha energy.

It was a creature that had gained spiritual awareness!

He had heard from Wang Daoxuan that in famous mountains and sacred valleys, spiritually aware creatures often appeared, cultivating by harnessing primordial gang-sha formations.

He never expected to encounter one.

Though spiritually aware, the takin remained simple-minded. It tilted its head, glanced at him as if unthreatened, then dropped something from its mouth before shaking its head and vanishing into the woods.

Li Yan exhaled in relief, stepped forward, and saw the takin had dropped half a root, some chewed into paste, applied to the Daoist’s wound.

“Indeed, it has spiritual awareness…”

Li Yan murmured in wonder, felt the Daoist’s pulse, then gently lifted him onto his back, carried him to the cliff’s edge, and tied the hemp rope.

With everyone’s combined strength, the Daoist was quickly hauled up.

!.

“Master!”

Both acolytes looked panicked.

“Don’t call out. Carry him back first.”

Li Yan ordered, then held up the root the takin had dropped. “Do you recognize this?”

“It’s tu sanqi.”

The acolyte replied: “Also called Blood Mountain Grass. It disperses stasis, stops bleeding, calms the spirit, and detoxifies. Master came here to find this herb…”

…………

“So there really are spirit beasts that save people?”

In the side room, Sha Life exclaimed in surprise.

Night had fallen. After rescuing the temple keeper, it was already late. The acolytes, grateful, invited him to stay overnight in the temple.

Of course, the coffin and carriage remained outside on the empty ground.

Wang Daoxuan stroked his beard and smiled: “All living things are born of heaven. Those with spiritual awareness aren’t necessarily malevolent. The temple keeper’s heart is kind—he heals and saves lives. In unseen ways, spirits, deities, and spirit beasts all protect him…”

Sha Li fei scratched his head. “Is it still possible to be a good person now?”

As the group laughed and chatted, a Daoist acolyte knocked and entered, bowing respectfully: “Gentlemen, the Master has awakened. Please come with me.”

The three said nothing more and followed the acolyte to a side room in the back courtyard.

The candlelight flickered faintly; the Daoist on the bed had revived. Though his lips were pale, his eyes held spirit. Seeing them enter, he struggled to rise.

“Rest, friend,” Wang Daoxuan quickly pressed him down.

“Thank you all for saving me.”

Chen Yuan’s face showed gratitude. “I thought I was surely dead. How did you find me?”

Li Yan smiled faintly. “Someone came seeking help—Hu Dao Ren…”

No sooner had he spoken than Chen Yuan’s expression changed slightly. He fell silent for a moment. “Si Kong, Si Xuan—leave. I need to speak with our guests.”

The two acolytes hurried out and closed the door behind them.

Chen Yuan then spoke: “Gentlemen, is any one of you a Living Yin Officer?”

Li Yan was startled. “How do you know that?”

Chen Yuan sighed. “Our Ancestor has not shown himself in ten years. The last time he appeared, it was because a Living Yin Officer passed by, chasing a demon, and he came to assist.”

“Ancestor?”

Both Li Yan and Wang Daoxuan were surprised.

Chen Yuan nodded. “You’ve heard of the fierce tiger beside the Medicine King, yes? Our lineage’s Ancestor is Hu Dao Ren.”

“My late Master once followed the Medicine King into seclusion at Xinglin Temple, giving rise to the legend of the tiger guarding the apricot grove. Later, he retreated with the Medicine King to Mount Zhongnan to cultivate. His Dao grew stronger, and the Medicine King personally taught him medical arts and Dao methods, accompanying him until the Medicine King’s transcendence.”

“Ah, no wonder…”

Li Yan suddenly remembered—the iron ring Hu Dao Ren held was none other than the symbol of the Pi Men healers: the “Hu Chong”!

Sha Li fei asked curiously: “If that’s the case, why did you steal the Medicine King’s incense offerings?”

“There’s another reason.”

Chen Yuan shook his head. “According to our sect’s records, our Ancestor, yearning day and night, once traveled with a high Daoist to visit every Medicine King temple.”

“Yet even the most prosperous shrines only captured the form—not the true essence of the Medicine King.”

Li Yan frowned. “What do you mean?”

Wang Daoxuan spoke up: “It’s complicated to explain. Simply put—imagine a deity in your mind. Even if that person truly exists, is the deity you imagine still the original?”

The words were convoluted, but Li Yan understood instantly.

The deities in temples were often mental visualizations—formed from collective devotion and incense energy. Hence the concept of Divine Gang.

In a sense, they were artificial gang.

Thinking of this, Li Yan grew more confused. “But if that’s true, how did the ancient sages who ascended to divine ranks leave behind lineages?”

“This is the greatest secret of every sect.”

The bedridden Chen Yuan suddenly spoke: “I don’t know much, but some can indeed respond to disciples. Even orthodox talismanic soldiers are summoned through their power.”

“But deeper secrets are beyond our reach.”

“In any case, after our Ancestor returned, he secluded himself on Mount Zhongnan, gathered disciples, and taught the Medicine King’s arts. The people, grateful, built shrines to honor Hu Dao Ren.”

“After our Ancestor’s transcendence, a fragment of his true spirit took residence in the statue, becoming a Yin Spirit and Earth Deity, continuing to protect the land and transmit the medical Dao.”

“At the end of the Tang Dynasty, chaos erupted. Dao declined, evil flourished. Demons spread everywhere, wars raged. Our Ancestor’s Hu Dao Ren shrine was burned to ashes; all disciples perished.”

“A fragment of our Ancestor’s true spirit became a wandering Master, still seeking successors to inherit the incense. But each time, war interrupted him, severely depleting his spirit. He rarely appears now.”

“When the Great Xuan Dynasty rose and peace returned, the people rebuilt shrines—but no one remembered Hu Dao Ren. They only knew this place had a Medicine King lineage, so they built Medicine King temples.”

“When my teacher returned and saw this, he tried to rebuild the shrine, but our Ancestor appeared in his dream and stopped him. That’s how things stand now.”

“I think… our Ancestor has held on, perhaps waiting for a response from the Medicine King…”

Hearing this, all fell silent.

A thousand years had passed since the Tang—how had he endured such endless time?

Sha Li fei sensed the mood had turned grim and quickly changed the subject. “Master Chen Yuan, your wound looks like a blade cut. Is there more to this?”

“I was deceived by a traitor.”

Chen Yuan smiled bitterly. “Two years ago, a young man named Lin Hui came to the shrine, claiming to admire my medical skills and wishing to become my disciple.”

“I saw he was clever, so I took him in as a lay disciple. After all, our lineage’s purpose is to spread medicine and heal the sick. But he only wanted to learn Daoist arts—and without the Six Yang Roots, how could he enter the Daoist path?”

“He never complained. Besides daily martial practice, he studied medicine with me. Though he never formally joined our lineage, I thought—even if he left someday, the world would gain another healer, and one more life might be saved.”

“But in truth, he schemed for our sect’s treasure.”

Sha Li fei’s eyes lit up. “What treasure?”

Chen Yuan shook his head. “Nothing extraordinary—it’s a tablet forged from the skull of our Ancestor’s remains, called the Divine Tiger Talisman.”

“Gentlemen, have you heard of the Baopu Ascending Mountain Art?”

(End of Chapter)