70: Chapter 70 Ghost Festival

"Benefactor Ding, it has been five years since we parted at the Vajra Temple. Your elegance is even greater than before."

The Old Monk Baiyun slowly performed a bow.

"Although Fellow Daoist Lin was offensive, it was out of an urgent desire to protect his Disciples, and with the demon about to be eliminated, could you... for the sake of this old monk's humble face, let it pass for now?"

"It will not be too late to settle everything after the Zombie King is slain."

"Ding... Mr. Ding! Senior! Young Hero Li! Calm your anger! Please, calm your anger!"

At this moment, Master Ren finally crawled out from behind the Buddhist light, rushing to Ding Qing's feet, his voice trembling uncontrollably.

"Daoist Master Lin only acted... on impulse for the sake of my Ren Family's affairs! Please, be magnanimous, be magnanimous!"

"This zombie... the zombie hasn't been eliminated yet, and the people in the city are still waiting to be saved!"

He turned and roared at the butler.

"Butler! Quick! Quickly take Mr. Ding and Young Hero Li to the best guest rooms to rest, go quickly!"

The butler responded while scrambling, leading the way with a face as pale as a ghost.

Under the shadow of his bamboo hat, Ding Qing's gaze swept over the shivering Master Ren and the complicated expression of Old Monk Baiyun.

Finally, it landed on Lin Jiu, who was as stiff as a clay sculpture.

There was no anger or mockery in that gaze, only a kind of indifference, as if looking down at dust.

"Wujiu."

Ding Qing's voice was low and raspy, breaking the heart-wrenching silence.

"Your Disciple is here!" Li Wujiu immediately bowed.

"Let's go."

A single word, as cold as a blade.

Ding Qing stood up.

His tall figure was like a moving mountain, ignoring the complex gazes of everyone in the hall as he walked straight toward the door.

Li Wujiu followed closely behind.

His eyes swept warningly over Lin Jiu, his Disciples, Prince of Zhou Yuan, and the others.

Under the terrified guidance of the butler, the two figures quickly disappeared into the depths of the corridor.

Only when that suffocating aura had completely faded away did everyone in the hall let out a collective sigh of relief, as if they had been saved from drowning.

Cold sweat had already soaked their backs.

Lin Jiu still stood frozen in place, as if he had lost his soul.

Old Monk Baiyun walked to his side and gently placed a withered hand on his shoulder.

A warm and peaceful stream of Buddhist True Essence was quietly transferred in, attempting to soothe the turbulent and chaotic True Qi and spirit within him.

"Fellow Daoist Lin..."

Old Monk Baiyun's voice was low and full of the vicissitudes of life.

"Do not be too burdened by obsession. This old monk observes that although Benefactor Ding acts with harsh methods, he is not one who kills indiscriminately. Today's matter... alas, it is not a failure of skill."

Lin Jiu's body shook slightly, and his hollow eyes finally gained a flicker of focus.

He looked at Old Monk Baiyun.

"Great Master... exactly what Realm... is he at?"

Lin Jiu's voice was hoarse and dry, carrying a tremble he hadn't even noticed himself.

A flash of awe appeared in Old Monk Baiyun's eyes as he slowly shook his head.

"Even this old monk does not know his depth. I only know that five years ago, he charged alone into the gates of the Vajra Temple, using a pair of iron fists to forcibly withstand the Vajra Demon-Subduing Grand Array set up by the temple's five Great Chiefs."

"That battle... the sky and earth turned dark, and the Buddhist light grew dim."

"In the end, all five Great Chiefs spat out golden blood, and the Abbot was forced to announce that the Vajra Temple... would close its gates for a hundred years to avoid his sharp edge."

"What?!"

Lin Jiu's pupils shrank sharply as he looked at Old Monk Baiyun in disbelief.

The Vajra Temple!

That was one of the Holy Lands of Buddhism, with profound foundations!

The five Great Chiefs joined forces... and were actually beaten by this man into closing their gates for a hundred years?!

This... this was simply a fantasy!

However, looking at the heavy gravity and awe on Old Monk Baiyun's face, which was by no means faked.

Thinking back to the terrifying power contained in that cup of tea just now, which was enough to easily crush his own Great Innate True Qi...

An indescribable sense of relief, tinged with a hint of absurdity, quietly diluted the defeat and humiliation in Lin Jiu's heart that had almost crushed him.

So that's how it is...

It turns out that what he was facing was such a monster who had long since transcended mundane cognition!

Losing to such a person seemed... not so unacceptable?

Once this thought arose, his almost-shattered Dao Heart miraculously stabilized slightly, no longer on the verge of collapse.

"Thank you, Great Master... for informing me."

Lin Jiu took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his surging emotions; his voice was still low, but it lacked some of the deathly silence from before.

He gave a solemn bow to Old Monk Baiyun, then turned to the corner to help up the heavily injured and blood-coughing Qiu Sheng and Wen Cai.

"Master..." Qiu Sheng and Wen Cai were overwhelmed with shame, their voices choking.

"Say no more, let's return to the Mortuary."

Lin Jiu's voice had regained its calm, but beneath that calm was a bottomless exhaustion and heaviness.

His gaze swept over the remaining people in the hall, especially the siblings of Prince of Zhou Yuan and Old Monk Baiyun.

"The zombie transformed from the Ren family ancestor has already matured, its fierce power is heaven-shaking, and it is entrenched deep in the mountains; there are too many variables."

"Right now, Guiyun City is overflowing with resentment, demons and ghosts are stirring, and the opening of the Ghost Gate on the Fourteenth Day of the Seventh Month is imminent. When the Hundred Ghosts Night Walk occurs, I fear it will become a great disaster."

"This humble Daoist needs to return to the Mortuary first to handle the Ghost Festival matters and stabilize the local Yin and Yang."

"After the Fourteenth Day of the Seventh Month, I will find an opportunity to enter the mountains and deal with that Zombie King."

"I trouble the Great Master to convey this intention to Master Ren and other fellow practitioners."

"Farewell!"

With that, Lin Jiu stayed no longer.

Supporting his two Disciples, he left the Ren Residence with heavy but determined steps.

That back view revealed an indescribable desolation.

Yet it also carried the unique stubbornness of a Maoshan Daoist who would never bow his head to evil spirits.

Watching Lin Jiu and his Disciples disappear at the door, Prince of Zhou Yuan's eyes flickered as his mind raced.

Ding Qing's terrifying strength made his heart leap in fear, but it also allowed him to see an unprecedented 'backer'.

He turned to Old Monk Baiyun and cupped his hands.

"Great Master, what Daoist Master Lin said is absolutely correct. This Guiyun City is now a place of trouble; with the Ghost Festival approaching, evil spirits are running rampant."

"Although my sister and I have some minor skills, we are truly powerless against those formless and substanceless ghosts."

"I wonder if we could be so bold as to temporarily stay at the Ren Residence with the Great Master and your Disciple?"

"That way, under the presence of Mr. Ding, Brother Li, and the Great Master, we can do our small part to protect the peace of this area?"

Old Monk Baiyun gave Prince of Zhou Yuan a deep look and chanted a Buddhist name.

"Amitabha. Since Young Master Zhou has this intention, it is also a virtuous deed."

"The Ren Residence is spacious. This old monk and my Disciple also need a place to stay and practice in peace, so we shall stay together."

His heart was clear as a mirror; these Zhou siblings were staying ninety-nine percent for the sake of Ding Qing, this 'stabilizing sea needle'.

Master Ren naturally welcomed this and hurriedly agreed to make arrangements.

The Mortuary. The Yin Qi was thick and gloomy.

Lin Jiu settled Qiu Sheng and Wen Cai in a simple guest room, carefully checked their injuries, and applied specially made medicine.

The entire process was terrifyingly silent, making the two Disciples not even dare to breathe loudly.

"Rest well. For these next few days... you are not allowed to step a single foot out of the Mortuary."

Lin Jiu's voice showed no joy or anger, but it carried an unquestionable authority.

After speaking, he turned and entered the small Ancestral Hall where the memorial tablets of the Maoshan ancestors were enshrined.

The door closed.

Isolating everything from the outside world.

Inside the Ancestral Hall, the light was dim, with only a few ever-burning lamps flickering like beans.

Lin Jiu knelt on a prayer mat, bowing deeply toward the tablets, not rising for a long time.

The soaring flames of the Maoshan ancestral home being burned five years ago, the figures of his fellow Disciples falling in pools of blood.

Today, Ding Qing's gaze that looked down as if at an ant, and that cold bitterness poured down his throat...

Countless images tumbled and collided in his mind.

His Dao Heart was violently shaken, like a small boat in a raging storm.

He closed his eyes, no longer forcing himself to dispel distracting thoughts, but instead silently recited the 'Sutra of Purity and Tranquility'.

Over and over again.

The sound of the scriptures echoed low in the silent hall.

It was as if he were soothing his own heart, which had been smashed to pieces by the heavy hammer of reality.

He needed time.

He needed the tranquility of this Ancestral Hall.

To stabilize his tottering cultivation Realm, and even more to stabilize that 'Dao Heart' which had almost been crushed.