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

Ye Qingfeng nodded slightly to them as a gesture of reassurance, then his gaze fell on the precariously fastened door.

"Chen Dazhu," he began, his voice soft yet clear and steady, cutting through the sound of the door being slammed shut, "do you have any unfulfilled wishes?"

Upon hearing this, everyone inside and outside the courtyard was stunned. This question… it sounded like someone who could reason with someone!

However, what responded to him was a sudden and even more violent pounding from inside the door!

"Boom!!!" A loud bang, more violent than any before!

With a loud crack, a reinforced wooden strip was snapped in two.

Then, with a loud "bang," the entire door, along with the remaining wooden planks, was smashed open from the inside by an incredibly powerful force!

Broken door panels, wood chips, and dust flew everywhere, rushing towards Ye Qingfeng!

A horrified scream erupted outside the courtyard, and the mother and her two daughters were so frightened that they clung to each other tightly.

Amidst the chaos, Ye Qingfeng stood firm, his figure remaining perfectly still.

The flying wood chips were still a foot or so away from his body.

It was as if they had hit an invisible wall of air, and they all veered off and slid down, with not a single piece able to touch them.

His Taoist robe was still neat and his hair was not messy. Only his clear eyes calmly looked at the "thing" that broke out of the door.

That certainly doesn't resemble Chen Dazhu anymore.

He was dressed in rags, his eyes were bloodshot and bulging, and he was making low growls.

Saliva mixed with unknown filth dripped from the corners of his mouth, and his skin had an abnormal bluish-gray hue.

The ten fingers are bent like hooks, and the nails are sharp.

He rushed out of the room, but did not immediately pounce on Ye Qingfeng, who was closest to him.

Instead, driven by some kind of violent instinct, it let out a threatening roar from its throat.

Its blood-red eyes scanned the living creatures in the yard, finally locking onto Ye Qingfeng. It then pounced on all fours!

That posture made him look exactly like a monster that had lost its humanity and was only left with animalistic or even corpse-like nature!

"As expected, this is no ordinary case of someone who has lost their mind..." Ye Qingfeng frowned slightly, a look of understanding flashing in his eyes.

He did not panic, nor did he even assume any spellcasting stance.

He glanced at his feet and casually picked up a small, ordinary stone, about half the size of a fist and covered in dirt, from the dust.

Just as Chen Dazhu was about to pounce, Ye Qingfeng, holding a stone, did the same thing he had done at the teahouse.

He brought his right index and middle fingers together, made a light, sweeping motion in the air towards the stone, and uttered a single, low shout: "Suppress!"

This time, it won't be silent.

As he uttered his command, the originally ordinary stone suddenly burst forth with a soft yet firm golden light!

The light was not dazzling, but it carried a majestic and righteous meaning, as well as the power to suppress evil spirits.

With a flick of his wrist, Ye Qingfeng sent the golden stone flying out of his hand.

It wasn't a rapid shot, but rather it landed lightly and gracefully on Chen Dazhu's forehead, following a mysterious trajectory.

"Bang!"

A muffled thud, like a heavy object falling to the ground.

The instant the golden light touched Chen Dazhu's forehead, the violently charging figure was as if pressed down by an invisible giant mountain.

He froze for a moment, then collapsed to the ground with a thud!

No matter how much he roared and struggled, no matter how much he scratched at the ground, raising clouds of dust.

The golden stone affixed to his forehead remained as steady as Mount Tai, firmly holding him in place and preventing him from moving.

The golden light on the stone flowed continuously, forming a faint light shield that enveloped its entire body.

The originally pervasive violent and gloomy aura melted and dissipated rapidly under the golden light, like ice and snow meeting the sun.

Inside and outside the courtyard, there was an instant deathly silence.

Everyone stared wide-eyed, looking at the scene in disbelief.

The "monster" that terrified them and even scared away the monks was actually frozen in place by a stone that the young Taoist priest casually picked up?

Ye Qingfeng then slowly stepped forward and walked to Chen Dazhu, who was suppressed on the ground, still growling but unable to move.

He leaned forward slightly, and this time, his voice suddenly became grand and solemn, like the morning bell of an ancient temple.

Like thunder from the heavens, it carried the power to cleanse the soul and deter evil, rolling and echoing over the small courtyard and even the entire village:

"Chen Dazhu! Return to your soul and heed my words!"

"Do you have any unfulfilled wishes?!"

This question was no longer directed at a walking corpse, but rather seemed to be a direct inquiry into the rage hidden beneath its surface.

That might be a glimmer of light that hasn't been completely extinguished, or the lingering, unyielding obsession that clings to it.

Golden light wards off evil, and Taoist chants cleanse the soul.

Everyone's heart leaped into their throats at this resounding question.

Ye Qingfeng's shout, as loud as a great bell, carried a chilling Daoist aura that seemed to cleanse away evil spirits.

The roar echoed through the small courtyard, not only silencing the howling "Chen Dazhu".

It was like a soothing bell ringing in the hearts of all the bewildered and uneasy villagers.

There was a moment of deathly silence inside and outside the courtyard, followed by low, incredulous gasps.

The way everyone looked at the Taoist in the green robe completely changed.

There may have been doubts before, or perhaps people secretly shook their heads because of his youth.

But at this moment, the supernatural powers of picking up stones at will, wielding golden light to ward off evil, and using Daoist sounds to captivate souls were revealed.

This has undeniably demonstrated that this person is a true enlightened master, far superior to those charlatans and swindlers!

The village chief and several elders were so excited that their beards trembled slightly, and they exchanged glances filled with immense joy.

The mother and her two daughters, who were huddled together in the courtyard, trembling with grief, stopped crying and looked at the tall, pine-like figure in the center of the field through teary eyes.

A faint but real hope, like a spark in the cold night, reignited in my heart.

Just as the echoes of Ye Qingfeng's questioning had not yet faded.

Chen Dazhu, who was being suppressed to the ground by the golden stone and was still instinctively struggling and growling, suddenly froze.

The raging crimson in his eyes seemed to have faded slightly, revealing an emptiness and an indescribable anxiety beneath.

His bluish-gray fingers with sharp nails no longer scratched the ground haphazardly.

Instead, with extreme difficulty and trembling, he struggled to raise his index finger in a certain direction in the corner of the courtyard, stubbornly pointing it out.

Everyone looked in the direction he pointed and saw a corner of the courtyard wall.

A large pile of logs, freshly felled from the mountains and yet to be split, was neatly stacked, thick and sturdy, piled up like a small mountain.

Several pieces of chopped firewood and an axe were scattered nearby.

"What... what does Dazhu mean?" a villager whispered in confusion.

"Firewood? What's he pointing at the firewood for?"

Just as everyone was confused, the old woman who had been crying all along, Chen Dazhu's mother, suddenly opened her cloudy, tearful eyes wide open.

He stared intently at his son's stubborn finger pointing at the woodpile, then looked at the mountain of logs.

A thought flashed through her mind like lightning, and she lunged forward a few steps, but stopped a few feet away from her son, not daring to touch the golden light.

Looking at her son's pale yet stubbornly pointing face, she burst into an even more grief-stricken cry, mixed with endless heartache:

"My son! My son! You...you've reached this point, you've lost your soul, yet you're still...still thinking about these unfinished firewood!"

You're worried that when your mother gets old, she won't be able to chop firewood anymore, and there won't be any firewood in winter, so your wife and daughter will go cold and hungry!