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

Upon hearing this, Old Man Huai looked somewhat flustered.

He quickly denied it.

"No, no, esteemed guest, there is absolutely no hatred. You are a guest who has come from afar. It is only a few peasants who died. It is their blessing to die at your hands."

"Oh?" Ye Qingfeng uttered a soft "oh".

"Of course, what I say comes from the bottom of my heart." Old Man Huai smiled obsequiously.

Ye Qingfeng chuckled.

"In that case, I won't make things difficult for you. If there are no scallions in the beef noodles later, you will live; if there are, you will die."

Although he said it with a smile, the temperature in the inn suddenly dropped several degrees.

Old Man Huai was stunned.

Is this what you call not making things difficult?

It's a matter of life and death at every turn.

But then he thought about it again and realized that it really wasn't difficult.

His order was not to add scallions, and his underlings would never dare to disobey.

soon.

In less than the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, a large blue-and-white porcelain bowl floated out of the kitchen and landed steadily in front of Ye Qingfeng.

The soup in the bowl was amber in color and clear, and you could see the noodles at the bottom of the bowl.

The noodles are thin yet chewy, each one distinct, neither sticky nor clumpy.

Several thin slices of beef were laid on top, with clear marbling and a thin layer of tendon along the edges, indicating that it had been stewed for a long time.

A few glistening drops of oil floated on the soup noodles.

There are no scallions.

There were definitely no scallions.

The rim of the blue-and-white porcelain bowl was spotless, without even a single scallion leaf.

Old Huai stood to the side, looking at the bowl of noodles, and breathed a sigh of relief.

He felt he had won this round.

He understood the Taoist's rules—he couldn't argue with him, he couldn't make mistakes, and he couldn't let the Taoist find fault with him.

He ordered beef noodles without scallions, and he did so, but when the noodles arrived, there were no scallions.

Perfect, flawless, without any faults.

He straightened his back a bit, and his smile became more natural.

Ye Qingfeng looked down at the bowl of noodles for a few moments.

He didn't speak immediately, and even smiled.

Under everyone's gaze, Ye Qingfeng calmly spoke.

"Hehe...but I don't eat beef."

The voice was very soft, but everyone present heard it.

Lü Yang's mouth opened and he couldn't close it.

Miao Gui's eyes widened.

Shen Zhaoyue paused for a moment.

Old Man Huai stood there, his smile frozen.

His mind went completely blank.

You don't eat beef?

You don't eat beef, but you order beef noodles?

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but it was as if something was choking him, and he couldn't make a sound.

His hands started to tremble, his legs started to tremble, his whole body was shaking.

He finally understood—it wasn't that he never made mistakes, it was that this Taoist priest always managed to find fault with him.

You put chopped green onions in your food, and he says, "If you put chopped green onions in, you'll die."

If you don't add scallions, he'll say, "I don't eat beef, you're dead."

No matter what you do, it's wrong; you've already lost from the start.

His lips finally made a sound, very low and hoarse, as if squeezed out from his throat.

"You don't eat beef, so... what kind of beef noodles are you ordering?"

Ye Qingfeng looked at him and frowned.

"You're questioning me?"

"No, no, no..." But before the old man could finish speaking, it was already too late.

The sky suddenly brightened for a moment.

The golden light streamed in through the inn's window, illuminating Old Man Huai's pale face.

"boom--!!!"

Thunder roared.

It didn't come from the sky, but from outside the inn, from the dark clouds overhead, and it shook the entire inn.

Old Man Huai's body stiffened.

He stood there, motionless.

His eyes were still open, his mouth was still agape, but his pupils had already dilated.

A tiny bolt of lightning went in from the top of his head and came out from the bottom of his feet, baking him from the inside out.

There was no burnt smell, no black smoke. He just stood there, and then slowly, slowly faded away, like a painting soaked in water, the colors fading little by little, the outlines becoming blurred little by little.

Finally, he disappeared.

The gray-white robe fell to the ground, piling up in a heap. A wooden hairpin rolled out from the collar, spun around a few times, and stopped next to a puddle of water.

Lu Yang's throat moved, and he swallowed.

He really didn't expect that they could find fault like this!

He recalled the commotion he had just caused at the inn. Ordering bear paws, squirrel-shaped mandarin fish, meticulously choosing the cooking time, ingredients, and temperature—picking everything he could.

He thought he was good at finding fault, but his fault-finding was actually finding loopholes in the rules that others had set.

The immortal master's fault-finding was a direct violation of the rules.

I won't eat beef if you don't add scallions.

I set the rules, and I can set them however I want.

How can the other side win?

Miao Gui followed behind, his face bearing the expression of "I've lived for decades and this is the first time I've ever seen anything like this."

He was holding the chubby baby, who was perched on his shoulder, with half a fish in its little hands, which it was happily munching on.

That is when the anomaly suddenly occurred.

Suddenly, all the lights in the inn went out, and then something thick and heavy slowly began to spread around the inn.

A familiar voice rang out again.

"If you won't let me live," his voice was somewhat hysterical, "then nobody will live either."

Beneath the bluestone slabs, countless unseen roots extended from the old locust tree, spreading throughout the entire Huaiyin Village—all of them stirred at once, like countless sleeping snakes opening their eyes simultaneously.

"How come this guy isn't dead even after being chopped to ashes?" Lu Yang looked around in surprise.

"That was just a clone; the real body didn't come out," Ye Qingfeng chuckled.

"Where is the real body?" Shen Zhaoyue asked curiously.

Ye Qingfeng didn't say anything, he just stomped his feet.

Several people seemed to be deep in thought.

Meanwhile, on the other side, the eyes hidden behind the doors in the village lit up at the same time.

They felt it—the tremor coming from the ground, the power that hadn't been seen for hundreds of years.

"Old Huai is angry." A voice drifted out from under the door of the butcher shop, filled with barely concealed excitement.

"That human, that Taoist priest, have angered Old Man Huai."

"This is going to be interesting."

The sounds came from all directions—sharp, thin, rough, hoarse—like a pack of wild beasts that had been suppressed for too long and were finally getting their chance.

They had been waiting for this moment for a long time.

After that human entered the village, he killed Old Zhao, the oil seller, and the little devil. He walked into the inn on a red carpet, and Old Huai had to bow to greet him.

They were so frustrated, so frustrated they were about to go crazy.

This is the Ghost Market, their territory. When did it become someone's place to be so arrogant?

"Old Man Huai is about to make his move."

"That human is doomed."

"Death? That's too easy on him. Let him taste what it's like to be made into a lantern."

They were talking, their voices growing louder and more unrestrained.