This Taoist priest is so unprofessional!

When Zhu Jun saw the notification pop up on his phone screen that "the group owner has invited you to a video call," he was terrified.

His first instinct was to shrink his body behind the sofa.

But then I thought, that's Wang Xiaoer's phone, that's Wang Xiaoer's QQ number, so the video definitely isn't for me.

A sliver of curiosity, like vines sprouting in the darkness, entangled his eyes, making him unable to resist sneaking glances in that direction again.

A video of a ghost?

This was way more thrilling than any horror movie he'd ever seen!

Wang Xiaoer showed no fear whatsoever, and even had a playful smile on his face.

He could sense that the being on the other side of the screen was already at its last gasp.

That beam of holy light emanating from its core values ​​has probably washed away most of its centuries-old cultivation.

This video call was probably its last struggle and its only chance to make peace.

"Brother Chen."

Wang Xiaoer gestured to Zhang Chen and A Yue.

Zhang Chen immediately understood and silently stood to the left rear of Wang Xiaoer, one hand hidden in his sleeve, forming the Immovable Wisdom King mudra, his expression wary.

A-Yue excitedly licked her lips, stood to the right rear, her eyes flashing with iridescent light, as if she were ready to release her precious Gu worm at any moment.

Wang Xiaoer took a deep breath, looking at the constantly flashing black tablet on the screen, and the two options below it: "Connect" and "Hang Up".

He extended his finger and pressed the green connection button decisively.

"Sizzle—"

The phone screen first flashed with intense static, and then a piercing electrical buzzing came from the speaker.

After the snowflakes flickered for a few seconds, the image finally stabilized.

A dimly lit, old-fashioned scene appeared on the screen.

It appeared to be a long-abandoned ancestral hall.

With the faint light from the camera, one can see a black wooden memorial tablet covered with spiderweb-like cracks placed in the very center of the ancestral hall.

In front of the memorial tablet, a few sticks of incense, long since extinguished, were stuck in a bronze incense burner filled with ash.

The surrounding walls were mottled and peeling, and the air seemed to be filled with the smell of decay and dust.

Just then, the cracked memorial tablet suddenly lit up slightly.

A semi-transparent, aged figure slowly emerged from the memorial tablet.

He was wearing a brocade long gown, the kind only a wealthy man in the late Qing Dynasty would wear, and a melon-shaped hat on his head. However, the color of his clothes had long since faded, making them look drab and worn.

His figure was ethereal, his face withered, his cheeks sunken, his goatee sparse, and his cloudy eyes were filled with shock and confusion, as well as a trace of fear that he could not hide at all.

He is the group owner.

Through the phone's camera, he saw Wang Xiaoer's young and calm face.

He also saw behind Wang Xiaoer a solemn-looking Taoist priest with an extraordinary demeanor, and a girl with sharp eyes and a hint of murderous intent.

More importantly, he can "see" things that ordinary people cannot.

He could "see" the immense aura emanating from Wang Xiaoer, like the blazing sun almost blinding his ghostly eyes, and the pure, righteous yang energy that was refined to the extreme.

That is the magnificent divine power that can only be generated when the fortune of humanity and personal cultivation are combined!

"So they are... the chosen one of destiny in the mortal realm and a master of the mystical arts..."

The group owner let out a long sigh.

He looked at Wang Xiaoer with an extremely complex expression, which finally turned to ashes.

"I... admit defeat."

He slowly began to speak, revealing his background in detail.

He was a local gentry in the late Qing Dynasty named Zhao Dechang, and was considered a minor landlord in this area.

After death, due to his lingering attachment to his family business and bloodline, a wisp of his remnant soul, by sheer chance, attached itself to the ancestral tablets in his family's ancestral hall, becoming a bound spirit.

For a century, he lived in a daze, watching the ancestral hall rise and fall, watching his descendants scatter and eventually die out completely.

Until more than a decade ago, the barren mountain where he lived was selected as a base station for a cell tower.

The construction team bulldozed the dilapidated ancestral hall, but treated the ancestral tablet as just an ordinary piece of rotten wood, casually tossing it under the cement base of the signal tower.

A miracle, or rather an anomaly, then occurred.

His spiritual power, which resided on the memorial tablet, strangely combined with network signals under the daily strong electromagnetic radiation.

He discovered that he could "enter" the network.

Later, he learned to use those human "chat software" and, by using his mental power combined with the internet, created a QQ group called "Approaching Pseudoscience".

He forcibly "pulled" all the wandering ghosts near the signal tower into this group using a method similar to "recruiting people".

Here, he is the supreme ruler, the "king" of all ghosts.

He originally intended to incorporate the two wandering souls into his own realm, thus expanding his "Netherworld Realm".

Unexpectedly, he kicked a steel plate that belonged to Wang Xiaoer.

His cultivation, accumulated through internet signals and a century of obsession, was as fragile as paper in the face of Wang Xiaoer's twenty-four golden characters.

After hearing this explanation, the firm fell silent.

Zhang Chen and A Yue exchanged a glance, both seeing absurdity and disbelief in each other's eyes.

A ghost that cultivates using internet signals?

This has created a completely new school of thought in the field of metaphysics.

Zhu Jun was so engrossed in listening that he couldn't close his mouth; he felt like he was listening to a fairy tale.

Wang Xiaoer listened quietly, his face expressionless, and simply asked a question.

"So, what do you want?"

On the screen, Zhao Dechang, the "group leader," had a smile that looked more like a grimace.

He pointed to the memorial tablet behind him, which was cracked like a piece of porcelain.

"My foundation is destroyed, and my soul is about to dissipate... I only beg... I only beg you to show mercy and not let me perish completely."

As he spoke, his gaze fell on Wang Xiaoer's red-and-yellow portrait, his eyes filled with lingering fear.

He paused, then looked at the gleaming "SVIP" logo next to his profile picture, and finally couldn't help but ask the question that had been bothering him the most.

His voice carried a hint of grief and indignation, a hint of bitterness, and a hint of utterly absurd bewilderment.

"Times...times have truly changed..."

"I have cultivated for a hundred years and consider myself a legendary figure. Today, I am defeated by your Taoist skills and by the orthodox lineage of the Taoist master behind you. I am completely convinced."

"Can……"

He abruptly changed the subject, his tone becoming incredibly conflicted.

"But I never imagined that what would ultimately break me... would be that super VIP membership?"

"What...what kind of supernatural power is this? I've never heard of it before, nor have I ever seen it!"

"If you hadn't used this supernatural power to seal my cultivation beforehand, I might have... Alas! Never mind!"

These words instantly broke the tense atmosphere in the firm.

"Pfft—"

Ah Yue was the first to burst out laughing.

This scene is incredibly impactful.

An old man from the late Qing Dynasty is seriously asking a modern young man via video call why he lost to a QQ Super Member.

This is simply a dark comedy of history and modernity, metaphysics and technology, after an absurd battle of wits.

Looking at the withered old face on the screen, filled with a thirst for knowledge, Wang Xiaoer cleared his throat and explained in a serious tone.

"You don't understand."

"This is called permissions, or rules."

"You are the group owner, but I am a VIP with an annual fee. In Tencent's rules, my privileges are, in some ways, higher than yours."

"That's called a dimensional reduction attack."

Zhao Dechang nodded as if he understood, his expression becoming even more bewildered.

He felt that he had wasted the last few centuries of his life.