This Taoist priest is so unprofessional!

Wang Xiaoer stared blankly at his fingers.

He himself did not expect the effect to be so exaggerated.

He scratched his head, his face equally blank.

"I don't know either."

"That's how it's drawn in the book, so I tried it out."

He thought for a long time and gave an explanation that even he himself didn't quite believe.

"Maybe... I was just lucky?"

Zhang Chen opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a single word.

Good luck?

Can this be explained by mere luck?

This is equivalent to a child who has just learned to hold a calligraphy brush, scribbling casually, but creating a masterpiece that will be passed down through the ages!

This isn't just good luck, it's divine intervention! No, it's practically a chosen one of Heaven!

Looking at Wang Xiaoer's sincere and innocent face, his heart was in turmoil.

He had painstakingly cultivated for over a decade, mastering all sorts of talismans and Taoist techniques, only to be caught off guard and driven to the brink of despair by the corpse poison of an evil spirit.

As luck would have it, Wang Xiaoer, an amateur, easily broke the spell with the most basic introductory incantation.

Where can I go to reason with this?

Just as the two were staring at each other, speechless.

A faint groan broke the eerie atmosphere.

It was that young man who was borrowed.

Zhang Chen's crisis was averted, but the real victim remained unconscious.

The two of them ran over immediately.

The young man lay on the muddy ground in the center of the formation. Although the evil energy around him had dissipated, there was no sign of his life force returning.

His face was as pale as paper, his lips were cracked, and the rise and fall of his chest was extremely faint.

It's a kind of decay, like a lamp running out of oil, after its vitality has been forcibly drained.

"How is he?" Wang Xiaoer asked anxiously.

Zhang Chen squatted down, placed two fingers on his wrist, and his brows furrowed instantly.

"That's terrible."

Zhang Chen's expression was extremely solemn.

"His three souls and seven spirits were scattered by the formation, and eight or nine tenths of his luck and essence were drained away."

"It's just an empty shell now, hanging on by a thread, and it could break at any moment."

Wang Xiaoer's heart sank.

"What can we do? Do you know any magic that can save him?"

Zhang Chen shook his head.

"I can only soothe his soul; I cannot restore the fortune and vitality that were taken from him."

"That was his life, a piece of it was forcibly taken away. Unless we can find rare and precious materials to extend his life, otherwise..."

Otherwise, it's a dead end.

Just then.

A sharp siren pierced the stillness of the night sky as it drew nearer.

Red and blue warning lights flashed among the trees at the entrance to the cemetery.

"Waaah—waaah—"

"The police car is here. Is it Old Zhao?" Wang Xiaoer asked, supporting Zhang Chen, looking somewhat nervous.

This time, someone died, and although he didn't kill him, he couldn't explain it to the police.

Zhang Chen took a breath. He was still very weak because the corpse poison had just been neutralized, but his mind was working very fast.

"I don't know, let's not let them see these for now." He pointed to the gaunt, inhuman corpse of the tall, thin man, and the black banners scattered on the ground.

He pulled a talisman from his canvas bag, bit his fingertip, quickly drew a few strokes on the talisman, and let out a low shout.

"An illusion!"

The yellow talisman transformed into a wisp of green smoke and disappeared into the night.

In Wang Xiaoer's eyes, nothing had changed.

But to outsiders who are about to arrive, this place will only be a scene of devastation caused by lightning, and the corpse will be seen as a charred tree stump.

"Let's go, let's get away from here." Zhang Chen pulled Wang Xiaoer aside. "That young man... we can only try our luck at the hospital."

The two silently disappeared into the darkness, avoiding the arriving medical staff and police, and then hailed a taxi, which followed them all the way to the Municipal People's Hospital.

The emergency room corridor was brightly lit, and the air was filled with disinfectant and a faint smell of blood.

The young man was rushed into the emergency room.

Later, his family members arrived: a middle-aged couple and a young girl who was crying her eyes out; they were probably his parents and girlfriend.

They grabbed every passing nurse, asking incoherent questions, only to receive the cold reply, "We are currently resuscitating her, please wait."

Time passed by, second by second.

Every second felt like a small hammer, striking the hearts of everyone in the corridor.

Wang Xiaoer and Zhang Chen leaned against the corner of the wall in the distance, watching the family go from anxiety to prayer, and then to despair.

Finally, the door to the emergency room opened.

A doctor wearing a mask and looking exhausted came out. He took off the mask, his face showing a helpless apology.

"We did our best."

The doctor's voice wasn't loud, but it was like a thunderclap, booming through the quiet corridor.

The young man's mother's legs gave way, and she collapsed to the ground.

"The patient's vital signs were extremely weak, and the brain waves were almost a straight line."

"In modern medical terms, he is brain dead. He is currently only kept breathing by machines, and his heart could stop beating at any time."

The doctor shook his head, his tone heavy.

"I'm sorry, we...we're helpless."

"No way! Doctor! Please save him again! He's so young!" The father rushed forward, grabbing the doctor's white coat tightly, tears streaming down his face.

The girl's cries turned into desperate wails, a heart-wrenching sound that made Wang Xiaoer's heart clench.

Looking at the grieving family, he suddenly thought of himself.

I think back to those days when I was all alone and helpless, bearing everything by myself.

The feeling of loneliness, of being the only one left in the world, formed an incredibly stark contrast with the scene before him.

He could not stand idly by.

Wang Xiaoer shifted his gaze from the family and asked Zhang Chen beside him in a low voice.

"Brother Chen, is there really no other way?"

Zhang Chen's expression was equally solemn. He looked at the young man surrounded by various instruments in the emergency room and slowly shook his head.

"The doctor is right. From a 'living' perspective, he is already dead."

"His very life force has been drained. He's still alive, but his vital energy is gone," Zhang Chen explained in a low voice. "His soul can't find its way home and is wandering outside. If this continues for too long, it will completely dissipate."

Wang Xiaoer's heart sank to the bottom.

"Is there a way?" he pressed, his voice carrying a stubbornness he himself was unaware of.

Zhang Chen remained silent for a moment, seemingly making a difficult decision.

"have."

He uttered a single word, but it gave Wang Xiaoer a glimmer of hope.

"But the price is extremely high." Zhang Chen's expression was extremely serious. "It requires a person with great fortune to spare a wisp of their own destiny to 'light a lamp' for him and guide his soul back to its rightful place."

"This is tantamount to cutting off one's own flesh to save someone else's life. No one would do that; it would shake the very foundation of the caster."

Wang Xiaoer hesitated almost without the slightest hesitation.

"I'll do it."

Two words, light as a feather, yet as heavy as Mount Tai.

Zhang Chen suddenly turned to look at him, his eyes filled with shock.

"I have plenty of luck anyway, I won't die." Wang Xiaoer's tone was calm but firm. "Giving him a little won't kill me."

Zhang Chen stared at him intently, her eyes filled with complex emotions.

He originally thought Wang Xiaoer was just incredibly lucky, but now he realized that the kid was not only lucky, but also had a good character.

This kind of pure-heartedness, which is "I will go even if there are thousands of people against me," is even more precious than a person's great fortune.

"Waiter, have you thought this through?" Zhang Chen couldn't help but remind him again, "He and you are completely unrelated!"

Wang Xiaoer's gaze fell once more on the family who were weeping uncontrollably, and his answer was firm and resolute.

"Luck can be regained if it's gone, but once a person is gone, it's truly gone."

"I can't just watch him die."

Zhang Chen let out a long breath and stopped trying to dissuade him.

He patted Wang Xiaoer on the shoulder, his eyes filled with unprecedented recognition and appreciation.

"it is good."