With virtue

Smoke billowed from the kilns at the foot of the mountain, a mixture of black smoke, blue smoke, and cooking fumes—perhaps this is what is meant by the everyday life of ordinary people.

The young Taoist priest hummed a song as he walked down the mountain. During his trip to Ding Kiln, he obtained the Ghost General's method of enslaving hundreds of ghosts through the visualization diagram, and also learned the water and fire techniques from the Dream-Fulfilling Monk. In addition to his original inner vision, illusion techniques, and the Thunder of the Heart, he had many skills at his disposal, and his courage was much stronger than before.

Lost in thought, I arrived at the kiln before I knew it, and headed toward the coke burner.

From afar, you can see three children stomping on clay at the entrance of Zhou Cheng'an's small courtyard, their legs twitching from exhaustion.

Wang Haiting, with his sharp eyes, was the first to spot him, calling out "Uncle," before looking at the master beside him.

Master Zhou nodded, then put down his work and ran towards Zhao Yunshu.

The other two kids followed behind, running and stumbling. The youngest one even fell down, but he didn't cry. He got up, patted his knees, and continued chasing.

Zhao Yunshu squatted down and caught Wang Haiting who rushed towards her, then reached out and ruffled the messy hair of another doll.

Zhou Chengan also came over, holding a bamboo knife for trimming clay. He smiled and nodded at Zhao Yunshu without saying much. He simply moved a long bench into the yard and then went to the kitchen to fetch a bowl of hot tea.

The old craftsman's complexion has improved a lot in the past few days. Although he is still a little out of breath when walking, his hands no longer tremble, and most of the bluish-gray on his fingernails has faded.

Zhao Yunshu took the teacup, blew on it to cool it down, and chatted with Zhou Chengan for a few minutes.

Of course, nothing important happened, since everything was taken care of. It was just a matter of whether the work at the kiln was busy or not, whether the apprentices were obedient, and whether they were still coughing at night.

Zhou Chengan answered them one by one, and finally sighed, "I, Old Zhou, have spent most of my life in the kiln and owe the Taoist priest two lives. It's all thanks to the Taoist priest's timely arrival, otherwise my old bones would probably be buried by now."

Zhao Yunshu waved his hand and said, "Master took your teacup back then, so it's only right for me to repay the favor."

Zhou Cheng'an immediately said, "I'm the one who owes you and your master a huge favor, and so do these children. I'll set up a memorial tablet for your master later to pray for his well-being!"

The young Taoist priest was delighted and quickly thanked him, saying, "That's wonderful! When I'm out and about, I might not always be able to properly perform the rituals, so thank you very much, Master Zhou!"

After the two talked for a while, Zhou Chengan realized that he had something to say to the children, so he said he was going to check the fire at the kiln and got up to leave.

Only Zhao Yunshu and the three children remained in the courtyard.

The two younger children, too young to understand, only knew that the young Taoist priest was a good person who had saved their lives and given them food and clothing. So they sat down next to him on either side, their little hands clutching the hem of his clothes, refusing to let go.

Wang Haiting, however, was a perceptive child. He noticed that Zhao Yunshu was different today and didn't talk much, so he had a vague guess in his mind.

So, the child pursed his lips, suddenly knelt on the ground, and kowtowed three times to Zhao Yunshu.

This sudden action startled Zhao Yunshu.

"Uncle," Wang Haiting looked up, his forehead covered in mud, which he didn't wipe away, but looked earnestly at Zhao Yunshu, "You saved our lives and found us a way out. I, Wang Haiting, will remember these kindnesses. Once I've mastered my craft and earned money, I will definitely repay you! If you need anything, come find me at Ding Kiln!"

Zhao Yunshu laughed, reached out and pulled Wang Haiting up from the ground, and patted the dust off his knees.

Although the child was young, he was clearer-headed than many adults. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something as parting words, but then felt that it was too solemn. So he simply patted Wang Haiting on the shoulder and said, "Okay."

Wang Haiting nodded vigorously, and his two younger brothers followed suit, nodding their heads heavily as well.

Zhao Yunshu smiled, stood up, placed the teacup on the bench, patted Wang Haiting's head, and said, "I'm leaving."

After speaking, he turned and walked out of the kiln.

Let the fish leap into the river!

You should know that the young Taoist priest was only seventeen years old!

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It is said that the Taoist school originated from Laozi's green ox emerging from the pass, and the True Man of Guanyin Wenshi earnestly requested that he leave behind the five thousand words of the "Tao Te Ching," which has been passed down to this day.

This religious sect is also divided into three levels: superior, middle, and inferior.

The highest being is pure and tranquil, transcending existence and entering non-existence, rising above the mundane world, and remaining ageless like heaven and earth.

Secondly, one should cultivate one's true nature and refine one's character, expel the old and take in the new, build the Kan and Li trigrams to prolong life, and boil lead and mercury to benefit all things.

The lowest level are those who practice talismans, command ghosts and spirits, set up rituals to communicate with the upper realm, and establish summons to reach the underworld.

The lowest of these three schools was founded by a man surnamed Zhang during the Later Han Dynasty. He was skilled in magic and could create a fog that stretched for five miles. People who wanted to learn from him had to offer five pecks of rice as a gift, hence the name "Five Pecks of Rice Way".

Later, when the religion became popular, those who learned it and used it to exorcise demons and eliminate harm among the people were practicing the righteous way, while those who used it to do evil were simply said to have acquired demonic arts.

Although they are different in their nature, they are both extremely effective and rare true methods.

These methods may not seem to have any effect under normal circumstances, but since the chaos and turmoil at the end of the Tang Dynasty, the warlords have been separatist, the war is incessant, the people are suffering, and the fields are full of bones. Even the imperial power has changed hands many times. Today it belongs to Jin, tomorrow to Liang, and the day after tomorrow it is under another banner. Wherever the war has passed, nine out of ten houses are empty.

Even those who survived were mostly poorly clothed and starving, struggling to make ends meet amidst the overgrown weeds and desolation.

However, in the world, yin and yang wax and wane, and in chaotic times, monsters often arise. Perhaps the vengeful ghosts who died unjustly refuse to reincarnate, or the poisonous creatures formed from accumulated resentment wreak havoc everywhere, or there are evil-hearted demons who take advantage of this chaotic world to carry out heinous acts. When ordinary people encounter all of these, they can only wait to die.

These methods then proved effective. In this world, monks, Taoists, or wandering hermits relied on the true methods passed down from their ancestors or the wonderful techniques they had come to understand to travel the world, slaying demons and monsters.

Among these people, some are genuinely trying to help others, some are just after money to fill their stomachs, and some have ulterior motives. In short, they are a mixed bag, with good and bad mixed together, and there are too many to say about them.

Several days had passed since the young Taoist left Dingzhou and headed south.

At this moment, he is in a village.

The village was bustling with activity. The villagers gathered together, surrounding the young Taoist priest and the monk lying on the ground in layers, craning their necks, holding their breath, and eagerly watching Zhao Yunshu.

The young Taoist priest kicked the monk to the ground, held a sword to his neck, and the monk lay on the ground, still crying out for justice: "I didn't lie, that's my mother, that really is my mother!"

He cried out with tears streaming down his face, veins bulging on his forehead, as if he had truly suffered a great injustice.

Zhao Yunshu stepped onto a stone block beside him, rolled up his sleeves, pointed at the monk, and said loudly to the crowd, "Fellow villagers, don't be fooled by his appearance. I'll tell you about his tricks!"