I am a full-level celestial master, you let me enter the strange talk of rules?

Zhang Yangqing glanced at the production date; indeed, a considerable amount of time had passed.

However, this type of candy should be called rock candy, which is a type of hard candy. As long as it is sealed properly, it can still be eaten even if it has expired.

Zhang Yangqing simply didn't give it to him, casually unwrapped the candy, and put it in his mouth.

The candy was hard, making a crunchy sound when you bit into it, and it was indeed very sweet. I casually remarked, "The taste is not bad."

Qin Ming watched Zhang Yangqing eat the candy, paused for a moment, and then smiled—a very sincere smile.

Zhang Yangqing sized him up. Qin Ming was in his early twenties, diligently raising poultry in the county town and living with his grandmother.

During this time, Zhang Yangqing began to have some verbal communication with the grandmother and granddaughter.

Knowing that Qin Ming cared a lot about his grandmother's daily life and health, he got up early every day to make breakfast for her and washed her feet every night.

Even if his grandmother coughs once, he will ask her questions for a long time.

This kind of filial piety is not something that can be faked.

At first glance, Zhang Yangqing did not notice anything unusual.

There was no trace of any strange aura left; it wasn't in the house, on Qin Ming, or on his grandmother.

Everything is normal: normal housing, normal life, normal people.

But Zhang Yangqing knew that if the strange creature disguised itself as a human, unless there was a special flaw, no one would be able to tell the difference.

This is what distinguishes the eerie from ordinary ghosts and monsters.

They can perfectly mimic everything about humans: smell, body temperature, heartbeat, and even the fluctuations of the soul.

Unless you see them with your own eyes, you'll never know whether what's standing in front of you is a human or a ghost.

If it were demons or monsters, Zhang Yangqing could tell at a glance; strange creatures were indeed troublesome.

Qin Ming and his grandmother both respected Zhang Yangqing, the young Taoist priest.

We killed a chicken, made a pot of soup, and stir-fried a few dishes, setting the table full.

There was braised chicken pieces, stir-fried green peppers and eggs, stir-fried seasonal vegetables, and a bowl of seaweed and egg drop soup.

The chicken is a free-range chicken raised on our own farm, with firm meat, and the stewed soup is golden and glossy with a wonderful aroma.

This made Zhang Yangqing a little embarrassed. He came here to take on cases and investigate, not to be a guest.

But since they had already prepared everything, and he couldn't refuse their hospitality, all he could do was enjoy a good meal.

Surprisingly, Qin Ming's cooking was delicious.

The chicken pieces were stewed until tender and flavorful, the stir-fried green peppers and eggs were cooked to perfection, and the seasonal vegetables were crisp and refreshing.

Zhang Yangqing ate two bowls of rice and drank a bowl of soup.

"You used to be a cook?" Zhang Yangqing asked, picking up a piece of chicken with his chopsticks.

Qin Ming smiled, a hint of nostalgia in his smile: "No, when my grandfather was alive, he was the head chef for weddings and funerals in the nearby counties and towns. He cooked for wedding banquets and funeral feasts. I learned a little from my grandfather when I was a child, but I can't cook as well as he did. It's still edible."

Zhang Yangqing picked up a piece of chicken, chewed it a couple of times, and laughed: "You're still too modest. With your skills, you're sure someone would hire you as a chef, you just haven't gone."

Qin Ming was slightly surprised, leaned forward slightly, and widened his eyes: "Daoist Master, how did you know?"

Zhang Yangqing did not answer. He could tell that Qin Ming was actually quite capable, but he was very filial and cared about his grandmother. He was afraid that if he went out to work, his grandmother's health would be poor and there would be no one to take care of her. It would be bad if something happened to her. So he stayed at home raising some poultry and livestock to support his family.

He did these things not because he lacked the ability, but because he couldn't let go.

Zhang Yangqing said this when Grandma Qin Ming left to get more rice.

Because elderly people will feel guilty if they feel they are a burden to their children and grandchildren.

Zhang Yangqing didn't want the old man to hear these words, so when the old man returned with the food, Zhang Yangqing had already changed the subject and was talking about the chickens and ducks that Qin Ming raised. This was Zhang Yangqing's way of keeping his words within reasonable bounds.

After finishing her meal, Grandma Qin Ming held Zhang Yangqing's hand, tears welling in her eyes, her voice choked with emotion: "Young Taoist priest, please help my grandson. He's haunted by evil spirits, he can't sleep well, and he's lost so much weight. He's a good man, he's never done anything wrong, God shouldn't be treating him like this."

Her fingers were dry and rough, with age spots all over the back of her hands, but they were very strong.

Grandma Qin Ming talked a lot with Zhang Yangqing, to the point of being repetitive and tedious. Perhaps she had already said some of the things, but she still repeated them.

It's clear that Grandma cares a lot about Qin Ming.

Even Qin Ming felt that this was going too far and repeatedly tried to stop his grandmother from complaining.

But Zhang Yangqing waved his hand to tell Qin Ming not to interrupt his grandmother. After his grandmother finished speaking, Zhang Yangqing patted the old woman's hand and said gently, "No problem, it's nothing."

Only Zhang Yangqing dared to make such a boast. If it were any other Taoist priest, who would dare to say "it's a piece of cake"?
Bizarre possession, memory loss, spatial jumps—these kinds of bizarre events would be major cases anywhere.

But who is Zhang Yangqing? If he says there's no problem, then that's basically the final word.

Qin Ming escorted his grandmother back to her room to rest, then returned to the living room, sat down, head down, looking somewhat melancholy. He wanted to light a cigarette, but considering that Zhang Yangqing was nearby and might not like him smoking, he put the cigarette away.

As if remembering something, Qin Ming said, "I'm sorry, Daoist Master, I didn't think of that when I was cooking. There seem to be four things that Daoism doesn't allow you to eat. Is the food I made not to your liking?"

It's clear that Qin Ming is quite considerate and cares about other people's feelings when he does things.

Just as his grandmother said, he is a good person.

Zhang Yangqing said, "The Daoist school does indeed have four things it doesn't eat: I don't eat what I don't like, I don't eat what's too greasy, I don't eat what looks bad, and there are others that are yet to be determined."

Upon hearing this, Qin Ming chuckled: "Daoist Master, you're really quite carefree. Aren't you afraid the Celestial Master will punish you if he finds out?"

Zhang Yangqing waved his hand: "My understanding of cultivation is cultivating the mind, but many people focus on form and adhere to principles, which is also worthy of respect. The Tao follows nature, it just depends on how you understand it. The Celestial Master is reasonable and will certainly not punish me."

Zhang Yangqing's inner thoughts: I am the Celestial Master, so please forgive me.

Qin Ming marveled at the profoundness of Taoism, then said to Zhang Yangqing, "Taoist Master, shall we go to the old house now, or shall we go early tomorrow morning?"

Zhang Yangqing glanced at him and said, "Go now, let's get this over with quickly, I have other things to do."

Qin Ming stood up from the sofa and dusted off his sleeves: "Okay, I might be back very late this time. I'll prepare some breakfast for Grandma tomorrow morning first. Wait for me."

He walked briskly towards the kitchen as he spoke, like a child about to embark on a long journey and giving instructions to his family.

Zhang Yangqing remained alone in the living room. Instead of sitting down, he slowly walked around the room.

The houses in the small county town are not big and have a compact layout.

The living room connects to the kitchen, and outside the kitchen is a small yard where several chickens have gone back to their coop and are quietly huddled in a corner.

An old-fashioned wooden cupboard stands against the wall in the living room. The paint is peeling and the doors are fitted with glass.

Through the glass, you can see bowls, plates, and some bottles and jars inside.

Next to the cupboard was an eight-immortal table covered with a plastic tablecloth printed with peony patterns, which had been washed until it was faded.

Old newspapers were placed under the four legs of the table to prevent them from scratching the floor.

In the trash can in the corner, Zhang Yangqing saw several medicine boxes and several rolls of used bandages.

The medicine box contains medicine for sprains and bruises, as well as some anti-inflammatory drugs.

There were dried bloodstains on the bandage; they weren't red, but dark brown, indicating they had been there for some time.

The medicine box was manufactured last year and has expired.

Just then, Zhang Yangqing felt a gaze upon him. (End of Chapter)