80: Chapter 80 The Secrets of Inner Alchemy

She walked up to the still-roaring Bronze Armored Corpse, raised her foot, and stepped on the monster's chest.

Then, she raised the nail and aimed it at its iron-hard brow.

There was no chanting of incantations, no ritual pacing.

Just a simple, downward tap.

Pfft.

It was like a hot knife cutting through butter.

That copper skin and iron bone, which even blades could not cut, was as brittle as paper before this rusty nail.

The entire nail sank in.

The Bronze Armored Corpse's roar came to an abrupt halt.

Its scarlet eyes instantly lost their luster and turned grayish-white.

The dense corpse qi on its body dissipated instantly, as if sucked dry by a pump, leaving no trace behind.

The entire cave fell silent.

Only the sound of bubbling water remained in the pool.

Jiang Hongli clapped her hands and stood up, her expression as indifferent as if she had just swatted a mosquito.

"Done."

She turned her head to look at the three stunned people. "What are you staring at? Clean up, and see if there are any valuable burial items in the coffin. That's your payment for the hard work."

Thud.

A muffled sound.

Everyone turned back.

They saw Daoist Master Qian sitting on the ground, his eyes unfocused, his face ashen.

He looked at Jiang Hongli, then at the peach wood sword in his hand—the one he had bought after saving up incense money for three years, which he usually treasured dearly and polished three times a day.

Now, it looked like nothing more than a piece of firewood.

"Comparing people... only leads to death,"

Daoist Master Qian muttered to himself, a turbid tear sliding from the corner of his eye. "Comparing goods... only leads to throwing them away. I have cultivated the Dao for thirty years; I bathe and burn incense to draw talismans, and set up altars to catch ghosts, working myself like a dog... She finished it with just one talisman, one rope, and one nail?"

He suddenly grabbed a handful of dirt from the ground and flung it away fiercely.

"I must have cultivated a fake Dao! Is this fair? Huh? Is this fair?!"

Jealousy had twisted the face of this old Daoist, who was over fifty, and his mentality had completely collapsed.

Although Monks Name was also envious, he had better psychological fortitude (mainly because he was thick-skinned).

He sidled up to Jiang Hongli with a flattering expression. "Constable Jiang, um... can that nail still be used after being pulled out? If not, Poor Monk can help recycle it; it's absolutely eco-friendly."

"It's one-time use." Jiang Hongli glanced at him. "It's useless once used."

"Oh!" Monks Name slapped his thigh, his teeth aching with heartache. "What a waste... no, I mean, how extravagant! So extravagant!"

Chen Mo, who had been standing on the side, silently released his grip on the hilt of his blade.

His palms were full of sweat.

In that instant just now, he had actually thought of seven or eight angles to strike, and even planned how to run away if he couldn't cut through it.

And the result? It didn't even get to his turn to draw his sword.

Is this what they call "money power"?

Chen Mo looked at Jiang Hongli's cold and beautiful profile, and a sense of unprecedented realization suddenly welled up in his heart.

What bitter practice of sword techniques, what life-and-death tempering—before absolute financial power, it was all nothing.

How is this catching ghosts? This is clearly just smashing the ghost to death with money!

Chen Mo took a deep breath. He looked at Jiang Hongli, and his gaze changed. It was no longer looking at a colleague, nor looking at a beauty. It was looking at a golden, incredibly thick thigh to hug.

"Chen Mo, oh Chen Mo," he said to himself in his heart. "You were too shallow before. Whatever Monk Dengcao, whatever Secret Manual—nothing is as practical as hugging this thigh tightly. This soft rice... no, this thigh, I am determined to hug it! Even Jesus can't stop me, I said it!"

He quickly walked forward, a look of unprecedented sincerity on his face, and gave Jiang Hongli a thumbs up: "Constable Jiang, your Divine Might is unparalleled! That move just now was simply earth-shattering and ghost-weeping; it really opened my eyes! Are you tired? How about I massage your shoulders?"

Jiang Hongli didn't have the spare time to listen to Chen Mo's flattery.

She walked over to the now-deceased Bronze Armored Corpse. This thing was over two meters tall, with copper skin and iron bones, and was incredibly heavy. If she let Chen Mo carry it back, his waist would probably break halfway.

Jiang Hongli reached into her sleeve and pulled out a black talisman paper.

This talisman was different from the money-burning "Nanming Li Fire Talisman" from earlier; it didn't have a bird drawn on it, but rather ghost-like symbols that looked like chains, exuding an eerie chill.

"Seal."

She slapped the black talisman onto the Bronze Armored Corpse's forehead.

A teeth-gritting "crack, crack" sound rang out.

It was as if an invisible pair of hands was forcibly folding the corpse. The Bronze Armored Corpse's iron-hard limbs defied human anatomy, bending inward by force, the sound of breaking bones making one's scalp tingle.

In the blink of an eye, the originally massive monster was compressed into a long, rectangular bronze block, about the size of a pillow.

Jiang Hongli pulled out a piece of yellow cloth from somewhere, wrapped the "block," tied it casually, and weighed it in her hand.

"Alright."

She turned and walked out, her movements as skilled as if she had just bought a piece of cured meat at the market.

The monk Monks Name sidled over, staring at the yellow cloth bundle, his eyes darting quickly, his mouth making clicking sounds. "What a pity, what a pity."

Chen Mo, who was wiping the blood off his blade, was stunned upon hearing this. "Great Master, what's a pity? Isn't this thing a menace?"

"A menace, yes, but also a treasure."

Monks Name rubbed his bald head and lowered his voice, as if afraid that Jiang Hongli in front might hear. "This Bronze Armored Corpse has reached a sufficient level of maturity. If it had been left to stew in that coffin for another ten or eight years, a 'corpse elixir' might have formed in its belly."

corpse elixir? Chen Mo's hand stopped moving. The term didn't sound like anything good, but in this Xuanhuan world, the more sinister-sounding things were, the more valuable they often were.

"What is that?" Chen Mo asked. "Can you eat it?"

"Eat?" Monks Name widened his eyes, looking at Chen Mo as if he were an idiot. "If you're tired of living, go ahead and eat it. That thing is condensed from the yin-evil qi of heaven and earth; if an ordinary person licked it, their intestines would rot and their stomach would burst on the spot, turning them into a puddle of pus."

Chen Mo sheathed his blade. "Then why did you say it's a treasure?"

"To decent people, it's a deadly poison, but to some others, it's a great supplement."

Monks Name chuckled, the fat on his face shaking. "Benefactor, have you heard of 'Wild Maoshan'?"

Chen Mo shook his head. He hadn't been transmigrated for long, so his understanding of this world's cultivation system was still half-baked. He only knew that the Imperial Astronomical Bureau was in charge and that there were Daoists and monks; as for anything else, he was completely in the dark.

"You know Maoshan, right? A prestigious sect, experts in catching ghosts and subduing demons."

Monks Name fingered his prayer beads and began to explain. "But the forest is big, and it has all kinds of birds. Some Daoists with crooked minds, or disciples expelled from their sects, find orthodox Daoist cultivation too slow and too bitter. They also have to worry about accumulating virtue and doing good deeds, which is too much trouble."

"So, this group of people took a side path."