I am a wandering immortal in the mortal realm.

With the evil spirits removed, the rest of the process was much faster. To avoid any further complications, the laborers dared not delay, quickly tied on new straw ropes, and carried the coffin away.

The sky was overcast, and a cold wind blew in gusts. Shen Yuan shook the Anshan bell and walked slowly at the head of the funeral procession.

Perhaps because of the ghost story, the grief among the relatives was lessened considerably. Everyone had red eyes and silently followed behind the Taoist priest.

The neighbors didn't peek out from their yards until the funeral procession had gone far away.

They curiously observed the departing crowd, then gathered in twos and threes and began chatting about the haunted house.

"Judging by the time, Zhuang Da should have gone up the mountain long ago. The fact that he's only come out now means something is holding him back!"

"That's right, that's right. I heard from Zhang Quan's family that Ping-ge's pot didn't break even after being dropped seven or eight times. Just think about it, it's just a broken pot, you have to be careful not to bump it when you use it, and it didn't break... what else could it be but a ghost?"

As the woman spoke, she glanced around, then lowered her voice in a tone that suggested she knew a big secret, saying, "I heard that it was because Ping-ge'er resented his father's prolonged illness and was unfilial behind his back that Zhuang Ping died unwillingly and refused to be buried!"

"Oh, is that so?" The woman beside her gaped, looking like she'd heard something amazing. She said with a hint of disbelief, "Really? Zheng Ren and Zhuang Da are such good people, visiting every two days. Even their own children aren't as attentive. If Ping-ge'er were truly unfilial, wouldn't he know?"

The woman who had spoken earlier curled her lip upon hearing this and said irritably, "I already said it was behind your back, how can you not understand? Besides, although the Zhuang and Zheng families live close by, they are not family. Zheng Ren has to work every day, how can he be attentive to everyone?"

"That's true!" someone nodded in agreement, sighing, "As the ancients often said, 'There are no filial sons at the bedside of a chronically ill person,' let alone someone as stingy and miserly as Ping-ge'er. Zhuang Da has been ill for a year, and money has been spent like water. It must be heartbreaking for him. It's not surprising that he hopes his father will die soon."

"So, as parents, we work hard all our lives, and while it's natural to care for our children, we can't be too open and honest. It's better to save some money for ourselves, so that when we're sick or in need, we can still have some influence over them. If we only rely on our own money, we can still have some weight in our words. To force children to obey out of filial piety, or to simply expect them to do it willingly, is naive!"

The women listened and nodded repeatedly, feeling a deep sense of sympathy.

The atmosphere fell silent. Someone spoke up, changing the subject: "Did Zhuang Da go up the mountain now because the ghost story has been resolved?"

"That must be it!" A woman glanced at the speaker and whispered, "Didn't you see? There's a Taoist priest in that crowd!"

"Oh my, you mean that incredibly handsome Taoist priest? I initially thought he was some leading actor from a theatrical troupe who had switched professions and come to our town in Taoist robes to make a living!"

"What nonsense are you talking about? That's a proper Taoist priest! He's the abbot of that Taoist temple up the mountain now."

"Wasn't that temple already abandoned?"

"So what if it's deserted? It's still a proper Taoist temple. Aunt Jinzhi went up the mountain to check it out the other day, and it's been cleaned up and looks somewhat presentable now!"

"Really!" someone exclaimed immediately. "When does the Taoist temple open? We want to go and offer incense. I heard the first incense offering is the most effective. Even if we can't get the first one, it's good to show our sincerity!"

"Dreaming too much!" A woman nearby chuckled, then whispered, "Aunt Jinzhi said the temple is still the same as always, no worship of the Three Pure Ones, no worship of the Jade Emperor. I reckon even if you offer incense, Heaven doesn't know which deity to send to bless you!"

"Ah~"

A hint of disappointment flashed in everyone's eyes.

It's no secret in Linquan Town that Yiyuan Temple only worships "Heaven and Earth".

It is said that "sincerity brings results," but the world is vast and boundless. When one offers incense and prayers, and one's faith is bound to something, where in the heavens should one go?

On the contrary, the clay sculpture on the altar, though decayed, looked more like a place to entrust one's "sincere" heart.

This is also why the residents of Linquan Town don't like to go to Yiyuan Temple to burn incense.

Firstly, it's too far away; it's not as convenient as the Jade Emperor Palace.

Secondly, this reverence for heaven and earth is something that ordinary people like them shouldn't be concerned with.

Just when everyone was disappointed, some people raised a different opinion.

"Whether or not people worship the Three Pure Ones is none of our business, but the fact that the village is haunted can't be faked. If it really was that young Taoist priest who turned the tide and exorcised the evil spirits, then the other party must be a highly skilled person with genuine magical powers..."

The man's words were brief and to the point, but the expressions of the other women all changed.

"...You don't want to befriend such a person, but instead you're fussing over some kind of idol. It's really absurd. Anyway, whatever you think, I will definitely go and pay my respects to this one-dimensional temple in the future."

Upon hearing this, the women seemed to instantly realize something. They looked at each other, exchanged glances, and their expressions immediately became exaggerated as they spoke in unison.

"Let's go! Let's go!"

……

Shen Yuan was unaware that his reputation had already begun to spread among the women of Linquan Town.

At this moment, he was standing in front of the auspicious burial site chosen in advance by the Zhuang family, with six coffin bearers following behind him, panting heavily.

"Master, what should we do next?" Old Chen asked respectfully, leaning on the crossbar.

After the incident at the funeral hall, everyone was completely convinced of Shen Yuan's abilities.

Especially for someone like Lao Chen, who is only half-baked with some skills, after seeing Shen Yuan's sword strike down the evil spirits and trigger a ghostly howl, his inferiority complex and madness took over, and he regarded Shen Yuan's words as gospel.

Moreover, they were carrying a large, ferocious corpse; if things went wrong, it could lead to a major disaster.

Only Master Shen's words could give them the sense of security they needed.

Shen Yuan stopped the Anshan Bell, glanced at the surrounding mountains, and nodded: "Let's just bury him!"

"Okay!"

Once Old Chen received confirmation, he immediately set to work, leading the other laborers to carefully place the coffin into the grave.

With a "bang," the coffin hit the ground, and nothing strange happened after that.

"Taoist Master, has my friend's soul found peace?" Zheng Ren asked softly.

Shen Yuan remained silent, his expression unchanged: "How would I possibly know?"

"Master, you're not..."

Zheng Ren choked, thinking to himself, "Aren't you from the orthodox Xuanmen sect? This little thing is a piece of cake for you."

He immediately thought that reclusive masters always have some eccentricities, and it was already difficult enough for him to ask them to help subdue the demon, so he shouldn't ask for too much.

At this moment, Shen Yuan suddenly spoke up: "Everyone has their own expertise. I am not knowledgeable about the ways of the underworld. Even if I told you, it would only be deception. It's better to be honest. If you really want to know about your friend, you can ask the extraordinary person in town who specializes in communicating with the spirits!"

"Is that so..."

Zheng Renxin understood immediately, realizing that he had probably been judging a gentleman by his own petty standards. He blushed slightly and then stopped asking questions.

But just as the coffin was about to be buried, he suddenly became uneasy and turned to Shen Yuan, cupping his hands in a gesture of respect, saying, "Daoist Master, uh...should we check it again?"

Shen Yuan glanced at him and said, "It was the layman himself who said he only asked for a swift burial!"

"This..." Zheng Ren suddenly felt a little embarrassed.

"Fine!"

After an awkward moment, Shen Yuan suddenly changed the subject and slowly said, "Since I'm a good Samaritan, I'll take another look at you!"

"Thank you very much, Daoist Master!" Zheng Ren was overjoyed.

The Zhuang family's children also stepped forward, bowed, and said, "Thank you, Daoist Master!"

Shen Yuan twitched the corner of his mouth and slowly walked to the grave. Old Chen and the others immediately made way for him.

He didn't know anything about the grave; he just walked around it a few times and used a wooden sword to scare the old man in the coffin.

He had no idea whether the ghost was dead or not.

After all, it was the wooden sword that displayed its power; he didn't even break a sweat before the matter was over.

Anyway, he had already made a three-point agreement with the bookmaker. He was just waiting for the body to be properly buried, and then he would take the payment and leave. What was wrong with putting his mind at ease with them?

He pretended to walk around twice, then quickly stopped in front of the grave and gently raised his hand.

"Bury it in the soil!"

Old Chen immediately roared, "Bury it with soil!"

Two laborers immediately rushed out, picked up shovels, and shoveled a shovelful of sand down.

"Father!"

The villagers' children rushed forward one by one, crying and wailing.

Although her biological father caused a scene at the funeral, whenever she thought of his kindness in raising her and the impending separation by death, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow.

"Raise your shovel and strike the thick soil!"

Just as everyone was immersed in grief, Old Chen, the art and literature committee member, started releasing songs again.

Upon hearing Old Chen's words, the laborers burying the coffin immediately joined in the chant: "The dragon's lair of Chang'an—ah—hey!"

The melody's final note was drawn out extremely long and high, with a subtle sense of sharpness that seemed to soar straight to the sky, making one's heart involuntarily rise as well, and unconsciously tremble slightly.

"We are all in this together!"

When they sang the third line, their voices suddenly lowered, as if they were coming from their diaphragms.

The sounds overlapped, gradually creating a resonance.

Until the fourth sentence was uttered.

"Green hills are everywhere!"

In that instant, the sound resonated to its fullest extent, like a resounding bell, deafening and awakening, as if it were to unleash a powerful and solemn force from the depths of people's hearts.

"That feeling again!"

Shen Yuan had experienced this feeling once before in the mourning hall, and this time the feeling was inexplicably clear.

He couldn't help but look up. The originally gloomy sky had somehow cracked open, and a faint golden light shone down, as if echoing the uplifting melody.

"Words of power?"

Shen Yuan suddenly thought of some possibilities, and his gaze toward Li Fu and Lao Chen became more inquisitive.

There has been a saying since ancient times that "a word can become a prophecy," meaning that a person's voice contains a certain power that can inadvertently influence reality. If one is not careful when speaking, it is easy to bring trouble upon oneself.

Later, people learned to master and utilize this power, communicating with the gods through chanting incantations. Gradually, curses and prayers emerged.

In Taoism, there is also a great supernatural power where words can become law and one's mouth can embody the laws of heaven, which cannot be used by anyone who is not a true immortal.

However, there are fundamental differences between the two in the use of power.

"Words become law" means using one's own great power to communicate with heaven and earth, thereby controlling and utilizing all things.

In contrast, incantations and spells are more about communicating with heaven and earth and drawing power from nature through a medium.

One is "control," the other is "borrow"—a difference of only one character, yet it represents a world of difference between the Way and the Technique.

In Shen Yuan's view, Old Chen's songs were likely just a rudimentary application of the power of words, but they were still a long way from the true power of words.

However, this power is righteous and in accordance with the Way of Heaven, so it is clearly not some unorthodox method, but must have a legitimate lineage...

His thoughts raced, and before long, Zhuang Da's grave had turned into a mound of earth.

The tombstone stood before the grave, eliciting another round of weeping from everyone present. Even Zheng Ren's eyes reddened, and he murmured, "Brother Zhuang, may you rest in peace!"

Shen Yuan timed it perfectly, burned the memorial tablet in front of the grave, then bowed and paid his respects, and everything was completed satisfactorily.

Old Chen looked exhausted. He sat on a stone by the grave, wiped the sweat from his forehead, took out a pipe from his waist, lit it, and took a leisurely puff.

Suddenly, everything went dark. Looking up, he realized that Shen Yuan had appeared beside him without him noticing.

He quickly stood up and respectfully greeted, "Taoist Master!"

Shen Yuanhui bowed and said, "Layman Chen!"

"Master, is something the matter?" Old Chen carefully tucked his pipe back into his belt and said cautiously, "If there are any problems with the grave, just give the word, and I'll have my men take care of it immediately!"

"That's not it!" Shen Yuan shook his head, paused, and said, "I'm interested in the ballad the layman sang earlier."

"A folk song?" Old Chen was taken aback, then chuckled, "You mean the incantation, Daoist?"

Shen Yuan nodded: "Exactly!"

"I observed that the incantation you were reciting aligns with the principles of Heaven, and faintly bears the imprint of my own esoteric incantations. Therefore, I have become somewhat interested. If you find anything inconvenient, you may remain silent!"

"It's not inconvenient at all!" Old Chen shook his head and smiled. "Speaking of this incantation, it actually has some connection with the Taoist priest!"

"Me?" Shen Yuan was slightly taken aback, then frowned.

Old Chen didn't keep them in suspense and slowly said, "This incantation was passed down to my great-grandfather, who was actually a carpenter before he worked as a coffin bearer."

A hundred years ago, he received a commission to build a Taoist temple on a mountain. After the temple was completed, the abbot, impressed by my great-grandfather's work, not only provided him with money but also passed on these few key phrases to him.

"The abbot said that my great-grandfather's carpentry skills probably wouldn't last long, and he should consider changing professions as soon as possible. Sure enough, not long after my great-grandfather returned home, the imperial court was building the 'Deer Pavilion' and was conscripting craftsmen from all over the country. He fled into the deep mountains under an assumed name, and when he came out again, he settled down in this Linquan Town and became a lowly coffin bearer!"

Old Chen turned his head to look at Shen Yuan and suddenly laughed: "I suppose you've already guessed it, Daoist Master. The Daoist temple that my great-grandfather built back then is the Yiyuan Temple where you are."

Shen Yuan's guess was confirmed, and he couldn't help but feel a slight shock.

"And it is precisely because of this connection that I have found myself at a loss today, and have turned to you for help, Daoist Master!"

After a pause, Old Chen's voice drifted over again: "Does the Taoist priest know that when that abbot passed on this secret formula to my great-grandfather, he actually said something else as well..."

"What?" Shen Yuan blurted out.

Old Chen stared into Shen Yuan's eyes, his expression instantly turning serious: "He said that a hundred years from now, there will be a calamity in the world, when demons will run rampant and monsters will roam freely. Only by learning this secret formula can one prevent evil spirits from entering and avoid getting lost."

His voice grew deeper as he spoke: "I used to just listen to these stories and didn't know if the incantations were useful. My master told me to learn them, so I did."

Until recently, in the last year or two, I gradually noticed something was wrong—not only were I encountering more and more strange things, but the changes in my body after reciting this incantation were also becoming increasingly intense. And I never expected that today's events would be so dire; there must be a reason behind it—”

He looked at Shen Yuan, then suddenly paused. After a long silence, he finally spoke softly, "Daoist Master, do you think the calamity that the abbot spoke of has already befallen us?"

Shen Yuan was horrified!