A thousand enlightenments in one night, starting from being a menial apprentice.

Linzhang Prefecture, Huangpi County.

It was already past 9 AM, and there was no one in front of a temple in a quiet alley in the southern part of the city.

Duan Rong walked over slowly and saw that there were many withered grasses and fallen leaves on the open ground in front of the temple. He looked up and saw that there were many cobwebs of dust hanging from the edges of the plaque of the Wutong Temple and between the mortise and tenon joints under the eaves. The plaque was also covered with dust.

With a quick glance, he stepped inside. Although the temple was open, there was only an old woman sitting at a table by the door, sewing shoe soles with a thimble by the light.

Duan Rong came to this temple a little over a year ago. At that time, the person guarding the temple was a middle-aged man dressed in a Taoist robe.

When the old woman saw Duan Rong go in, she only glanced at him with her cloudy eyes before lowering her head to continue sewing the soles of her shoes.

Duan Rong circled the statue of the Five Gods. The statue was covered in dust, and there were rat droppings in the dark corner behind the base. The altar was empty except for an incense burner full of old incense ash, which sat there forlornly.

"This Wutong Temple has been in Huangpi County for over a year, yet its incense offerings are so meager."

Although the people of this world are ignorant, it is not easy to promote a belief in a deity among them without any foundation. It is by no means something that can be achieved simply by building a temple and spreading some rumors.

Duan Rong walked out of the Wutong Temple, thinking that the plan of the Filthy Blood Sect to promote its faith among the people would probably be stillborn after this incident.

Thinking this, he walked slowly along the streets and alleys, heading towards the main street in front of the county government office.

Duan Rong's return to Huangpi County was actually due to the Wutong Temple. This might be related to clues about the Filthy Blood Cult.

After all, he had promised Zhu He that he would give him an explanation in the Elders' Council. The simplest way would be to solve another major case involving bloodshed. This would not only save face for Zhu He in the Elders' Council, since it was Zhu He who had defied public opinion to appoint Duan Rong as the Deputy Director of the Court of Judgment and Clan Affairs, but Duan Rong had accomplished nothing and didn't even show his face, making Zhu He a laughing stock.

If Zhu He were to uncover another answer from the Bloodstained Sect, he would not only gain face within the Elder Council, but he could also use this opportunity to further suppress Yang Sixuan.

Although he didn't want to get involved in the power struggles among the sect's elders, Zhu He was, after all, his master, and he needed to give an explanation to fulfill their master-disciple relationship. If he acted on his own whims and washed his hands of the matter, it would be rather heartless.

Duan Rong walked along the streets and alleys, looking around as he went. Soon he arrived at a sidewalk not far from the county government office. With a thought, he suddenly released his spiritual sense.

With his current spiritual strength, if he were to unleash his full divine sense, he could cover the entire urban area of ​​Huangpi County. In an instant, the entire county, every street and alley, every glimpse of debauchery and trivial matters, would appear before his eyes in exquisite detail.

Duan Rong released his divine sense at this moment, originally intending to find a teahouse near the county government office, so that he could drink tea while monitoring the activities inside the county government office.

A year ago, he was still traveling the world, searching for a medium to understand the mysteries of the world. At that time, he was in Huangpi County, setting up a fortune-telling stall and making a living. He knew then that the Wutong Temple was built by the county magistrate, Lord Wu Mian, who personally took the lead and had the gentry and wealthy families pay for it.

He couldn't help but have some doubts about this magistrate named Wu Mian. However, at that time, when he was reading the spirit of the statue in the Wutong Temple, he suddenly triggered a sealed memory and found another cultivation path to deepen the power of the laws within the cave by devouring the spirit of the statue.

The discovery of this new path of cultivation greatly excited Duan Rong, as if the vast Dao was already right before his eyes. At that moment, how could he care about any clues about the Blood Filth Cult? Such trivial matters were not worth his attention.

However, now that this path of cultivation is blocked, and after returning to the sect, he has to face those entangled worldly affairs, so he has picked up this clue again.

He originally wanted to find a quiet teahouse, but suddenly, with the help of his divine sense, he discovered that behind the wall beside him was an empty courtyard.

There was a large locust tree in the courtyard, and the deck chair under the tree was covered with withered leaves and dust.

Since he began cultivating, Duan Rong had developed a fondness for solitude. Upon seeing this deserted courtyard, he was delighted, thinking it was even better than a teahouse. With a thought, he appeared in the next moment next to the recliner under the big locust tree.

The recliner was covered with layers of dead leaves, and a caterpillar was crawling on it. Duan Rong flicked his sleeve, and a gust of cold wind swept across the recliner, carrying away all the dead leaves, dust, and the caterpillar.

Duan Rong creaked as he sat down in the recliner, then leaned back, looking up at the sunlight dancing through the branches of the old locust tree. He squinted, and with a thought, his divine sense spread out, taking in all sorts of people in the county government office half a street away…

He quickly identified a thin, dark-skinned middle-aged man in the county government office. The man was between forty and fifty years old, with a sparse beard on his chin, dressed in casual clothes, and reviewing official documents in the study.

All he could see was that the signature in his red ink was usually a single character, followed by a checkmark, a cross, or a circle. Duan Rong didn't know the specific meaning of those symbols. Although no one came in to greet him, he had already guessed that this person must be Wu Mian, the magistrate of Huangpi County.

If it weren't for the county magistrate, who would dare to review official documents in the county office like this? If it were the clerk reviewing them on his behalf, he would never dare to be so casual, simply writing "reviewed" on the document.

Duan Rong then used his divine sense to penetrate Wu Mian's entire body, but found nothing unusual.

Duan Rong was not surprised by this. The Filthy Blood Divine Art was quite strange. If it was not activated, one could not see anything unusual by simply using one's divine sense to examine the body.

Moreover, he had already used his divine sense to penetrate the county government office and the surrounding underground depths, and found no secret chamber for practicing the Bloodstained Divine Art.

Duan Rong wasn't in a hurry; he had his own ways to carefully verify whether this Magistrate Wu was indeed a member of the Bloodstained Sect. However, it was daytime now, making it inconvenient to act.

He suddenly shifted his focus and began listening to the trivial conversations in the teahouses and markets, hoping to find some other clues in these casual chatter.

Duan Rong listened for about an hour and noticed that the conversations in the teahouses and marketplaces rarely mentioned the county magistrate, and even when they did, they were all in praise. These were all private gossips.

"It seems this man is a good official," Duan Rong thought to himself as he rocked back in his recliner.

This Magistrate Wu has been serving as the county magistrate of Huangpi County for five years, and the fact that the common people in the city don't curse him in private is already a testament to his exceptionally good conduct.

"What a pity..." Duan Rong sighed, "You were such a beautiful woman, why did you have to become a thief?!"

Although Wu Mian did not commit any crimes against the people, his initiation of the construction of the Wutong Temple was by no means simple. Duan Rong had a feeling that the Filthy Blood Cult must be behind it.

Duan Rong lay on the couch under the big locust tree for the entire day, his eyes slightly closed, as if he were asleep. But the entire county, with its peddlers, laborers, and bustling traffic, unfolded in his mind like a painting...

As dusk settled, the area under the old locust tree grew even darker. Duan Rong's figure had already disappeared into the darkness, but he remained on the recliner, lying there with his eyes half-closed, using his divine sense to survey the entire urban area of ​​Huangpi County.

The city gates closed, and the city lights began to come on.

In the backyard of the county government office, Wu Mian, having been busy all day, spent his evening reading travelogues and notes in his study after dinner. Wu Mian's wife had passed away three years prior, and he had remained single, never remarrying.

Around 9 PM, the magistrate turned off the lights and went to bed.

Duan Rong spent a day observing Wu Mian's life under the big locust tree, and also heard a lot of talk from the common people. He couldn't help but feel a little goodwill towards this Lord Wu.

This man was not fond of sensual pleasures and was quite humble towards his servants. It was rare to find someone so self-disciplined; he did not remarry after his wife's death.

"It wasn't easy!" Duan Rong sighed, but the next moment, his figure vanished in an instant under the dark locust tree, like a ghost.

Not far from Wu Mian's bed, on a screen embroidered with pine trees and chrysanthemums, a firefly suddenly appeared in the stamen of a chrysanthemum in one corner of the screen. Like a cold light slicing through the night, the firefly darted into the bed curtains and disappeared between the brows of the sleeping Wu Mian.

Just then, Duan Rong suddenly appeared from within the dark bed curtains. In the darkness, he sized up the sleeping Wu Mian, his eyes gleaming.

To determine whether Wu Mian is a member of the Filthy Blood Cult without alerting him, is something that Duan Rong, in his current state, can also accomplish.

After all, he had already mastered the twenty-second level of the Womb Treasury Sutra, and the power of his soul and the complexity and unpredictability of his soul techniques were beyond the comprehension of ordinary people.

Duan Rong had just used Yinghuo's Divine Soul Illusion Technique to trap Wu Mian in a Divine Soul Illusion. Moreover, he would manipulate the Divine Soul Illusion to coordinate with his divine sense entering Wu Mian's spiritual sea of ​​consciousness in order to investigate whether there was the origin of the Filthy Blood Divine Art within Wu Mian's sea of ​​consciousness, that is, the strange blood light that resembled a nebula.

This process can only be performed after Wu Mian has fallen asleep.

Firstly, the entire process is extremely meticulous and cannot be disturbed, so it is best to do it late at night. Secondly, even so, since it is one's own divine sense entering Wu Mian's spiritual sea of ​​consciousness, even if there is a divine soul illusion, Wu Mian will still be able to sense it. However, if it is done after he is asleep, when he wakes up the next day, he will not be able to distinguish whether that sense is real or just an illusion from his dream last night.
Duan Rong wanted to create this kind of doubt in him.

In the darkness, Duan Rong began to manipulate the Divine Soul Illusion.

In his dream, Wu Mian was ill with a splitting headache, and a doctor was giving him acupuncture...

Duan Rong used the headache in his dream and the tactile sensation of acupuncture to replace and cover up the discomfort caused to Wu Mian by his divine consciousness infiltrating into Wu Mian's spiritual sea of ​​consciousness.

An hour later, in the darkness of the bed curtains, Duan Rong's face was gloomy.

He used his divine sense to enter Wu Mian's spiritual sea of ​​consciousness and searched through it completely, but he couldn't find the original blood light of the Filthy Blood Divine Art at all.

This means that Magistrate Wu did not practice the Bloodstained Divine Skill at all.

"Could this person not be a member of the Filthy Blood Cult?!" In the darkness, a cold glint flashed in Duan Rong's eyes. He recalled some of the common people's opinions about Wu Mian, as well as the fact that he had not remarried even three years after his wife's death.

At this moment, Duan Rong couldn't help but feel suspicious.

Was it merely a coincidence that this person spearheaded the construction of the Wutong Temple?
Just then, Wu Mian, who was lying on the bed, suddenly groaned.

Duan Rong's heart skipped a beat, and almost simultaneously, his figure vanished like a ghost.

Wu Mian woke up in bed with a splitting headache. He struggled to get up and called out in a hoarse voice, "Someone come here."

At this moment, the door opened, and a maid carrying a lantern walked in. She knelt down behind the screen and said, "Master, you're awake?"

Wu Mian asked, "What time is it?"

The maid said, "It's just past four in the morning."

Wu Mian responded with an "oh," as the headache was subsiding and he felt fine. He then said, "Pour me a cup of tea."

"Yes."

The maid brought over a cup of ginseng tea. Wu Mian sipped a few mouthfuls and then lay down again. For some reason, he felt very tired, and his eyelids felt like they were filled with lead. As soon as he closed them, he fell into a deep sleep.

In the darkness, Duan Rong appeared in the uninhabited courtyard.

Instead of going to the recliner, he paced back and forth in the deserted courtyard, pondering the events of the day.

Could the Five Paths Temple be unrelated to the Filthy Blood Cult? Is it all just a coincidence?

Duan Rong was certain that Wu Mian had not cultivated the Filthy Blood Divine Art. As a county magistrate, if he hadn't cultivated the Filthy Blood Divine Art, the probability of him being a member of the Filthy Blood Cult was quite low.

Duan Rong knew that the reason why the Filthy Blood Sect was able to win people's hearts was because its Filthy Blood Divine Art was quite wondrous. In terms of its wondrousness alone, it was no less than the Womb Treasury Scripture, but it was easier to cultivate than the Womb Treasury Scripture, although the cultivation method was somewhat rudimentary.

Duan Rong paced back and forth in the courtyard, pondering for a while, but couldn't come up with a better idea, and he also felt somewhat tired.

After all, he had spent the entire day using his divine sense to explore the entire county, and at night he had used his divine soul illusion technique and divine sense to explore Wu Mian. This kind of delicate and in-depth exploration of other people's spiritual sea of ​​consciousness is actually quite exhausting. After such a day of exertion, even though Duan Rong's divine soul was strong, he was a little tired and needed to rest.

He walked slowly to the big locust tree, laid himself on the recliner, and fell asleep in no time.

The next day, early in the morning, Duan Rong strolled to a street in the south of the city.

As soon as he reached the alley entrance, he saw a thin figure setting up a stall by the back wall of a house, displaying calligraphy and paintings, and hanging up a cloth for writing letters.

This man was the poor, pedantic scholar he had met over a year ago when he was wandering around Huangpi County, occasionally setting up a fortune-telling stall. The scholar's surname was Zhao, but he had forgotten his exact name.

Duan Rong walked over slowly and said with a smile, "Scholar Zhao, it's been over a year. How have you been?"

The scholar was arranging his goods on the stall when he suddenly heard someone speaking. He turned around, was startled at first, and then laughed, "It's Old Jiang!"

The scholar's face was full of smiles. He had met this scholar more than a year ago and told him that his name was Jiang Qingyu.

The scholar placed several scrolls of calligraphy and paintings on his stall, looked at Duan Rong, and laughed, "Old Jiang, it's been over a year since I've seen you at your stall. Still alive? I thought you'd starved to death in some remote corner!"

Duan Rong spat on the ground and said, "Pah! It's so early in the morning, can't you say something auspicious?"

The scholar said, "Alas, life is getting harder every day. What's the point of saying auspicious words? Forget about you, I'm thinking of finding a tree and hanging myself."

Duan Rong said, "Don't hang yourself yet. There's an interesting story from the south of the city. Would you like to hear it?"

"What interesting thing happened?" The scholar immediately became interested.

Duan Rong then recounted to the scholar some of the scandalous and gossipy stories he had uncovered the previous day using his divine sense. The scholar listened with great interest and enthusiasm.

Just then, Duan Rong suddenly changed the subject and asked, "Do you still remember the Wutong Temple that was completed in the southern city more than a year ago?"

"I remember. What's wrong?" The scholar was taken aback, wondering why he had suddenly asked about it.

Duan Rong had already planned his visit; he came to ask the scholar about this matter. Since the Wutong Temple had been completed for over a year, and he had spent the entire day investigating the city, the matter was hardly being discussed anymore. However, this scholar was quite fond of gossiping, and there was something Duan Rong felt was the perfect person to ask him.

Duan Rong then asked, "Wasn't that temple funded and built by the gentry and wealthy families under the leadership of the county magistrate?"

"Yes," the scholar said. "That temple has always been deserted. More than a year has passed, and if you hadn't mentioned it, I would have forgotten about it."

Duan Rong asked, "Do you remember who contributed the most among those gentry and wealthy families who paid for the project?"

The scholar laughed upon hearing this, "I know about this. This Wutong God was originally unheard of in the streets; there were only some rumors. The county magistrate actually wants to build a temple for him. Those gentry and wealthy families aren't fools. Who would be willing to contribute money to a deity they've hardly heard of? But they couldn't refuse the county magistrate's request, so they only contributed a token amount. However, there was one person who contributed the most; he took 90% of the funds raised."

Duan Rong's heart skipped a beat, and he asked, "Nine-tenths?! Who is that?!"

The scholar said, "It's Master Zhu who runs a herbal medicine shop in the county. Because of this, the people in the town have ridiculed him quite a bit, saying he's a sucker."

"A herbal medicine shop?! Master Zhu?!" A deep, cold glint flashed in Duan Rong's eyes.

If the person who spearheaded the project is fine, what about the person who contributed the most money? (End of Chapter)