My words have become law; I truly have no desire to display my divine power before others.

The pause was very short, less than a breath, but for a martial artist at the Blood Exchange Realm, that was an opportunity.

"Wait until it swings its claws, then strike its joints!" Zhao Tieshan shouted.

The four understood each other perfectly.

The bear swung its claws again, striking a martial artist in the mid-stage of the Blood Exchange realm.

The warrior dodged to the side, while another rushed up from the side and thrust his spear at the bear's elbow joint.

The spear tip pierced the fur, penetrating half an inch. The bear, in pain, swung its arm violently, sending the warrior and spear flying. The warrior crashed into the gate, causing another crack to appear in the gate panel.

He coughed up blood, struggled to his feet, and rushed back up.

They are working desperately.

Everyone was injured; some had cuts on their arms, some had broken ribs, and some had blood trickling from their mouths.

But no one backed down.

In the village, some of the closed doors were ajar, and someone was peeking inside.

The children's cries came from inside the house, muffled, as if their mouths were being covered.

The elderly people knelt and kowtowed in the ancestral hall, begging for the protection of the Ginseng God and the Martial Saint Lin.

......

The Ginseng Lord Temple is filled with the aroma of incense.

Sunlight streamed in obliquely from the temple gate, casting a dark red glow on the peeling gilded clay statue on the offering table.

The clan elder stood beside the offering table, holding a damp cloth in his hand, wiping the base of the ever-burning lamp.

The lamp base was made of copper, and over the years it had become covered in green rust. He cleaned it very carefully, leaving no corner untouched.

Tomorrow is the grand festival.

The most important day of the year in the village.

He had to keep the temple clean and tidy, so that the Ginseng God would be pleased, and so would the villagers, young and old.

Although the clay statue couldn't speak, the clan elder knew it was watching.

Watching him wipe the lamp base, watching him arrange the offerings, watching him busy himself with various tasks.

"Sir," a young man poked his head out from behind, "do you need to change the ash in the incense burner?"

The clan elder didn't even look up: "Change it. Change it to new gray, don't use the old one."

"Yes," the young man replied, and carried the incense burner out.

The elder straightened up, placed the gleaming lamp base back on the offering table, took two steps back, and looked at it.

He moved forward half an inch, then back two steps, and nodded.

He turned around, about to check how the offerings were arranged, when someone rushed in from the temple entrance.

It was his son, Zhao Dazhu.

He was in his forties, strong and muscular, and had a dark reddish-brown face from spending so much time in the mountains.

He was running very fast, his forehead was covered in sweat, his face was pale, and his lips were trembling; it was clear that something terrible had happened.

"Father!" he gasped, "Something terrible has happened! A bear has come outside!"

The elder frowned: "Bear? What bear? Aren't there guards outside the village? Just have them chase it away."

Zhao Dazhu swallowed hard, his voice trembling.

"We can't get rid of it... That bear is huge, as tall as a three-story building! It's all black, and its eyes are red and glowing!"

It crashed through more than a dozen large trees, and the guards couldn't do anything about it; their knives couldn't even break the bark!

The elder's expression changed.

A bear three stories tall?

He lived in the Ten Thousand Mountains for more than seventy years, and the largest bear he had ever seen was only a little over a person's height.

Three floors, what does that even mean?

That's not a bear, that's a demon.

"Where is the guard captain, Zhao Tieshan?" The elder's voice deepened. "Isn't he at the late stage of the Blood Exchange Realm? Even he couldn't handle him?"

Zhao Dazhu shook his head: "Even if Brother Tieshan led four brothers at the Blood Exchange Realm up there, they couldn't stop it. That bear must have at least a hundred years of cultivation; only a Martial Saint could deal with it."

"Father, you said Lin Wusheng has been in seclusion for a year. Now we probably have to interrupt his seclusion. If we don't call him out, we simply can't deal with this bear demon."

The clan elder fell silent.

He stood there, motionless, his face etched with deep wrinkles, each one deeply etched.

His eyes were fixed on the clay statue on the altar, which was smiling but said nothing.

A bear demon with a century of cultivation.

Only a martial saint can defeat him.

Lin Wusheng has been in seclusion for a year. Outsiders don't know this, but he knows it very well.

Lin Wusheng wasn't in seclusion; he was exhausted and going to that cave to wait for death.

He didn't know if Lin Wusheng was still alive.

He dared not think about it.

He could only deceive himself, saying that he was still there, still in that cave, still trying to break through that threshold.

But now, a bear demon with a hundred years of cultivation is blocking the entrance to the village, and he can no longer deceive himself.

Lin Wusheng is either unable to get out or is already dead.

There was no martial arts master in the village, and no one could stop that bear.

Those five Blood Transformation Realm cultivators in the guard team won't last long.

The elder's hands began to tremble.

He has lived for over seventy years, weathered many storms, and has never been afraid.

But now he's scared.

It wasn't that they were afraid of dying, but that they were afraid the village would be destroyed in his hands.

He had promised the elders that he would protect this village and its inhabitants.

He had held on for thirty years, and it seemed he was about to give up.

Zhao Dazhu, standing nearby, grew anxious: "Father! Say something! Are we going to invite Lin Wusheng or not?"

Only you know where he's hiding in that cave! If we don't go soon, Tieshan and the others won't be able to hold out!

The clan elders did not move.

His mind was racing.

He looked up at the clay statue on the altar.

The clay statue smiled and said nothing.

But suddenly, a person flashed through his mind.

It's not Lin Wusheng.

It was that young Taoist priest.

The Taoist priest who made the ginseng speak, the Taoist priest who summoned lightning to strike people.

He lives at Aro's house, not far from here.

His skills might be barely enough to deal with this bear demon with a hundred years of cultivation.

If he's willing to help...

The elder's breathing became rapid.

He turned around and grabbed Zhao Dazhu's arm: "Let's go!"

Zhao Dazhu was taken aback: "Where are we going? To invite Martial Saint Lin?"

"No." The elder had already started walking out. "To A'Luo's house."

Zhao Dazhu followed behind, looking confused: "A Luo's house? What are we going to A Luo's house for?"

"Dad, that bear is about to break down the village gate! Why aren't you going to invite Lin Wusheng? What are you doing at A'Luo's house?"

The clan elder did not answer.

He walked very fast, his cane tapping on the bluestone slabs, much faster than usual.

Zhao Dazhu chased after him and grabbed his arm: "Dad! Explain yourself! What does A'Luo's family have? Do you think A'Luo can handle that bear?"

The elder shook off his hand and glared at him: "Stop talking nonsense and come with me!"

Zhao Dazhu was so glared at that that he didn't dare to ask any more questions and could only follow behind.

He looked at his father's hunched back, his heart filled with doubt.

He knew this road; heading west led to A'Luo's house.

This is not the way to find Lin Wusheng in the back mountain.

What's wrong with his dad?

The village is almost destroyed by the bear, why doesn't he go to Lin Wusheng instead of A Luo?

People were running and shouting in the alley, and the sound of children crying came from inside the houses.

The elder ignored him and just kept walking forward.

His cane pounded on the ground, making a deep, resounding thud, as if it were striking someone's vital point.