“From the provincial capital? Looking for the missing Miss Zhao?”
Chen Shi’s thoughts drifted to the purple-clad girl he had tricked into the kiln factory, whose remains were now part of the porcelain.
“So, the Zhao family has finally started looking…” he muttered.
Given her entourage of a dozen Six Panels Gate enforcers, it was clear that the girl held a significant position within the family. It was no surprise they would launch a search after her disappearance for over ten days.
“But what about the other 200 people I tricked into the kiln?” Chen Shi wondered grimly. “Most of them died, yet no one ever came looking for them.”
Shaking off these thoughts, he turned back to San Wang. “The old talisman master—did he spend the night in the Tian family’s abandoned house?”
San Wang shook his head. “No, he stayed in the Godmother Tree’s temple.”
Chen Shi’s gaze lingered on the temple in the village center. The offering piles had noticeably dwindled, the portly spirit avatar of the Godmother Tree having devoured most of them. Its bloated, fleshy upper body was now clearly visible.
“Stayed in the temple, huh…” Chen Shi murmured.
Turning his attention to the silver pieces San Wang had given him earlier, Chen Shi fingered the coins before pinching off one weighing about an ounce and handing it back.
San Wang looked at him, puzzled.
“Use this silver to bury the Tian family’s eight coffins properly,” Chen Shi instructed. “And get some new coffins for the three children. Give them a proper burial.”
He then gestured toward the village gate. “Bring me two stools and set them up there. I’ll be waiting for someone.”
Though confused, San Wang complied and brought two stools to the gate.
Sitting down on one, Chen Shi patted Black Pot’s head. “Fugui is my friend. My only living friend. He’s been hurt so badly—I can’t ignore this. The talisman master who harmed him must be furious after I ruined his lamp oil and crushed his cauldron. He’ll come looking for revenge.”
Black Pot wagged its tail in agreement.
“This talisman master is powerful,” Chen Shi continued. “Probably stronger than Grandpa. Grandpa’s gotten old and isn’t as strong as he used to be.”
The dog hesitated but didn’t wag its tail this time. If Chen Shi had seen Grandpa flying out at night like he often did, he might not have said that.
“Logically, I shouldn’t be waiting here,” Chen Shi admitted. “I should run. Get as far away as possible. Isn’t that right?”
Black Pot nodded gravely.
The talisman master was dangerous. His ability to manipulate talismans into monsters had nearly overwhelmed Chen Shi. If not for the Five Mountains Protective Talisman, Chen Shi might have been swallowed alive. Facing the master head-on would undoubtedly be even deadlier.
“But running isn’t the right thing to do!” Chen Shi suddenly declared, his voice firm. “Is it, Black Pot? Killing four kids to make some ridiculous lamp oil—that’s just wrong, isn’t it? Someone has to say it’s wrong. Someone has to stand up!”
He clenched his fists and looked at his hands. “I can’t run. If I do, the talisman master will come back. He’ll take Fugui again. I can’t let that happen. Someone has to fight back, even if it costs them everything.”
He was resolute. Deep down, he wanted nothing more than to beat that talisman master senseless—to beat him to death if necessary.
Black Pot hesitated, choosing not to dissuade Chen Shi. It understood his nature too well. Though clever on the surface, Chen Shi was stubborn to his core. Once he set his mind on something, he wouldn’t budge, no matter the cost.
The dog also felt reassured. After all, Chen Shi had left a letter for Grandpa. Once Grandpa returned and saw it, he would surely rush to Huangyang Village. Grandpa would handle the talisman master.
Meanwhile, dozens of miles away on the western slope of Qianyang Mountain, a commotion erupted in a campsite.
The flap of a large yurt was flung open, and a gray-haired old man stormed out, his face twisted in fury.
“That damn brat ruined everything!” he snarled, fastening a Galloping Horse Talisman to his feet. His body rose several inches off the ground as he sped out of the camp.
“I worked so hard to create my Longevity Lamp! I was just one boy short of success, and now it’s all ruined. He spilled my lamp oil, smashed my cauldron! If I don’t turn him into lamp oil, I’ve wasted seventy years of life!”
“Where are you off to, Iron Pen Elder?”
A voice stopped the old man in his tracks. He turned to see a middle-aged man dressed in finery, wearing a jade thumb ring and a jade pendant at his waist. This was Zhao Ming, the steward of the Zhao family’s Xuanying Manor in Xinxiang Province.
Iron Pen Elder bowed respectfully. “Steward Zhao, you misunderstand. I’ve been investigating Second Miss Zhao’s disappearance in the countryside. In the process, I started crafting something special to present to the master, hoping it would earn me favor. But a country talisman maker ruined my work, and I must settle the score!”
Zhao Ming narrowed his eyes, snapping his folding fan shut. “Your Longevity Lamp?” he sneered. “Another one of your harmful schemes? The master values your talent for crafting talismans and your skill in sorcery—not your sycophantic gestures! If word got out you were killing children to make that lamp, it would tarnish the Zhao family’s name. How many lives have you taken this time?”
Iron Pen Elder stammered, “Just… four.”
“Four lives too many!” Zhao Ming snapped. “Their blood isn’t on your hands alone—it’s on the Zhao family’s reputation! Cease this nonsense at once. We’re here to find Second Miss, not dabble in dark sorcery. Where’s the Soul-Seeking Talisman you promised?”
Iron Pen Elder quickly produced the talisman with a fawning smile. “Here it is, Steward Zhao.”
Inspecting it closely, Zhao Ming nodded. “The master respects your skills. He trusts your claim that Second Miss Zhao is still alive. If you help us find her, you’ll be richly rewarded.”
Iron Pen Elder’s heart soared with delight. He had no special insight—his inability to summon Second Miss’s soul had led him to gamble on the possibility that she was alive.
“Let’s search for her immediately,” Zhao Ming ordered. “Forget your petty grudge for now.”
Iron Pen Elder hesitated but relented. “I remember the boy’s face. He won’t escape me forever. I’ve already used the Soul-Seeking Talisman to locate Second Miss’s general direction. Shall we summon others for assistance?”
Zhao Ming smirked. “The fewer involved, the fewer who share credit. Let’s go.”
Iron Pen Elder nodded, affixing another Galloping Horse Talisman to Zhao Ming’s feet. The two sped eastward along the mountain slopes.
Back in Huangyang Village, Chen Shi remained seated at the gate, waiting patiently under the scorching sun.
San Wang’s wife, fearing he would go hungry, had prepared him a meal. For the first time in two years, Chen Shi tasted food seasoned perfectly. His eyes watered with gratitude, and he heaped praise on the bashful woman, making her blush furiously.
“It’s just a simple country meal,” she murmured, wringing her apron shyly.
Chen Shi devoured every bite, feeling reenergized. After thanking her, he resumed his vigil at the gate.
As the afternoon waned, Black Pot barked twice, signaling that it was time to leave.
Chen Shi sighed, rising to his feet and slinging his book chest over his back.
“No point waiting any longer,” he muttered. “If I stay, I won’t make it back to Huangpo Village before dark.”
Without bidding farewell to the villagers, Chen Shi set off for Huangpo Village, Black Pot trotting faithfully at his side.
“The talisman master didn’t show,” Chen Shi mused as he walked. “Perhaps he’s worried that word of him using children to refine lamp oil will get out and ruin his reputation. If he hasn’t come today, he probably won’t ever come.”
He turned to Black Pot and added, “I didn’t think someone like him would care about face. It’s frustrating that I couldn’t confront him this time. Who knows when I’ll get another chance.”
Black Pot trotted along beside him, visibly relieved. While Chen Shi wanted a fight to vent his anger, Black Pot certainly didn’t. If something happened to Chen Shi, Grandpa would undoubtedly blame it all on the dog.
The sun blazed overhead, showing no sign of setting yet. Chen Shi calculated that he could easily make it home before dark.
“I wonder if Grandpa has made it back yet…”
They had barely walked two or three miles when the faint sound of rustling robes cutting through the air reached them. Chen Shi slowed his pace and glanced back.
Two figures were approaching swiftly, their feet gliding over the ground as if carried by a gust of wind.
One was an elderly man with gray hair, and the other was a middle-aged man dressed in fine clothes. Each step they took stirred small whirlwinds, lifting their bodies a few inches off the ground. In this way, they covered over ten feet with each stride, conserving their energy as they moved.
“So the Galloping Horse Talisman can be used this way?” Chen Shi muttered, stepping to the side of the road to let them pass.
He had seen Grandpa draw the talisman before and had even learned to make it himself. But Grandpa always used it to power wooden carts, never strapping it to his legs like these two.
The middle-aged man noticed Chen Shi from a distance and frowned slightly. “A child on the road at this hour?”
As they drew closer, the elder, none other than Iron Pen Elder, smirked. “Poor kid, he won’t last much longer out here. What a pity—no time to use him for medicine...”
His words trailed off as he got a clearer look at Chen Shi’s face.
“It’s you!” Iron Pen Elder exclaimed, his expression twisting with rage. “The brat who ruined my lamp oil!”
Chen Shi’s eyes widened as the voice and face clicked in his memory. Black Pot, too, froze, its ears perking up and fur standing on end. Its tail, straight as an iron rod, quivered with tension.
Before Black Pot could bark a warning, Chen Shi bolted forward like a released arrow. His speed startled the dog, leaving it momentarily dazed.
Chen Shi charged Iron Pen Elder like a coiled leopard unleashed. His stride lengthened, covering over ten feet in a single step. His foot struck the ground with such force that his straw sandals burst apart, exposing feet that had grown significantly larger.
With his second step, he surged forward even faster, his body a blur. The wind roared against his face, pulling his tied hair loose and whipping it behind him like a banner.
The two men were still striding forward when Chen Shi reached them. The talisman-enhanced speed of their Galloping Horse Talismans was impressive, but combined with Chen Shi’s aggressive charge, they were face-to-face in the blink of an eye.
Chen Shi struck first.
He launched a punch from a distance of a single yard, his fist cutting through the air with a sharp whistle. The sheer speed of his attack left Iron Pen Elder stunned; he had barely finished shouting about his ruined lamp oil when Chen Shi’s fist was already in his face.
Chen Shi hadn’t forgotten Grandpa’s teachings:
“You don’t have magic. Any cultivator can kill you with a single spell. But your strength is immense, and you can kill them just as easily. When paths cross, victory goes to whoever strikes first.”
Iron Pen Elder’s reaction was swift. His wide sleeves fluttered as yellow talismans poured out, each pre-drawn and ready to activate. At the same time, divine light erupted from behind his head, forming a shrine. Within the shrine, the vague outline of a Divine Embryo began to materialize.
The sheer intensity of the elder’s true energy radiated outward, pressing down on Chen Shi like a tidal wave.
The first talisman to fly out was a Taishang Eight Trigrams Protective Talisman. As it activated, golden light began to spread, followed by a Golden Bell Talisman that shimmered with radiant power. If even one of these talismans activated fully, Iron Pen Elder would become nearly invincible.
But Chen Shi didn’t wait.
As the Taishang Eight Trigrams Protective Talisman met his fist, Chen Shi’s right leg shot forward like an uncoiling spring, delivering a brutal kick to Iron Pen Elder’s groin.
The elder’s face contorted in agony. His talisman-powered momentum halted abruptly, his eyes bulging as his legs gave way.
Before he could recover, Chen Shi’s punch broke through the dissipating energy of the Protective Talisman and slammed into his face, sending him spinning backward like a top.
Zhao Ming, the middle-aged steward, finally reacted. Summoning his divine light and true energy, he prepared to unleash a spell.
But Chen Shi was faster.
With a quick sidestep and a twist of his torso, Chen Shi swung his left elbow backward, slamming it into Zhao Ming’s ribs with bone-crushing force.
The steward doubled over in pain, his tall frame bent low.
Chen Shi, seizing the opportunity, grabbed Zhao Ming’s throat with his right hand, his fingers swelling with vitality until they resembled a bear’s paw.
Crunch!
The steward’s windpipe shattered under the pressure. Chen Shi, still gripping his neck, used his momentum to fling Zhao Ming forward, smashing his skull into Iron Pen Elder’s head.
The two men collided with a sickening thud. Iron Pen Elder’s skull caved in, and the talismans spilling from his sleeves scattered like yellow butterflies.
Amid the chaos, the Taishang Eight Trigrams Protective Talisman, Golden Bell Talisman, Six Harmful Spirits Talisman, and others all activated simultaneously. The resulting explosion of multicolored divine light formed a chaotic array of protective and offensive spells, creating a dazzling but meaningless display over Iron Pen Elder’s lifeless body.
Chen Shi staggered back, his chest heaving as he surveyed the carnage.
Iron Pen Elder knelt in a pool of his own blood, his groin mangled, his head slumped forward, and his brains spilling onto the dirt. His talismans and divine light were useless now—he was dead.
Black Pot trotted over cautiously, sniffing at the wreckage before glancing at Chen Shi with approval.
“Victory,” Chen Shi muttered, wiping blood from his knuckles.