Seeing that Zhou Fuzhen had brought the very owner of the Weng Zhong jade pendant over, Old Zhao hurried forward to welcome her. Yesterday had been harrowing enough; their entire family had been frightened out of their wits, and it was a blessing that they had such an effective treasure.
With a smile, she invited Jiang Wei to sit down and poured her a cup of tea.
Old Zhou, sitting on the opposite side, exchanged glances with Jiang Wei. Although he knew Jiang Wei possessed the real deal and couldn’t be treated like a mere child, she was still, after all, his daughter’s good classmate.
He smiled with some hesitation, agonizing over how to address her—even a billionaire can lose his confidence in a situation like this:
“M-M-Master Jiang?”
“Uncle Zhou, Auntie Zhao.” Jiang Wei hugged her bag, squeezing the peach-wood sword inside. Feeling somewhat awkward, she nodded toward Zhou’s parents and busied herself by picking up the teacup to take a sip.
Old Zhou turned to meet Celestial Master Zhang’s puzzled gaze and carefully recounted how the Weng Zhong jade pendant Jiang Wei had given Zhenzhen last night had saved her from sleep paralysis.
After Old Zhou finished the introduction, Master Puyi slowly twirled his bodhi seed prayer beads one by one, nodding in acknowledgment toward Jiang Wei. A flawless smile hung on his face, while inwardly he muttered: Why are all sorts of people coming in to steal business?
The Daoist priest named Zhang Qianyu appeared much more courteous, even rising slightly to extend a hand and shake Jiang Wei’s.
Sitting on the sofa, Jiang Wei found herself face-to-face with Zhou’s parents and two high-minded masters of ethereal demeanor; the scene was truly bizarre.
“Master Puyi, shall we begin then?” Old Zhao broke the awkward silence first.
Zhou Fuzhen wanted to speak up and fight for priority, but Jiang Wei grabbed her arm. “Take me around to look at things first.”
Zhou Fuzhen turned back to exchange a glance with Jiang Wei and finally managed to hold back from competing for the lead.
Master Puyi was invited up by Old Zhao, and as the group headed toward the villa entrance to either preside over or watch the ritual, Zhou Fuzhen led Jiang Wei straight toward Zhenzhen’s bedroom.
Walking up the stairs felt like embarking on a long trek; having a massive house didn’t mean it was all upside.
Holding her peach-wood sword, Jiang Wei took a turn around Zhenzhen’s room, feeling absolutely nothing. She then attempted to open her domain of weirdness (Guiyu), but under her omniscient “vision,” she still didn’t detect anything out of the ordinary.
The two of them proceeded to Old Zhou and Old Zhao’s bedroom. Jiang Wei opened her domain to check as usual, but still found nothing at all.
Hence, when moving on to the remaining rooms, Jiang Wei didn’t even bother opening her domain—if she felt nothing, she simply walked right back out.
The two girls walked through both the third and second floors. On their way downstairs, the chanting from the courtyard grew louder and louder, inexplicably generating an atmosphere of solemn sanctity. Jiang Wei stood in the hall looking outside for a moment before following Zhenzhen to continue their patrol.
When they reached Old Zhao’s Buddhist shrine room on the first floor, the moment Jiang Wei stepped across the high threshold, she felt a chilly draft wash over her face. Out of the corner of her eye, she seemed to catch a dark shadow flashing past, and she quickly raised her peach-wood sword. Seeing her hold the sword in front of her chest, Zhou Fuzhen immediately reached out to clutch the Weng Zhong pendant hanging around her neck.
“What’s wrong? Did you find something?” Zhou Fuzhen asked anxiously, peering ahead.
“Nothing.” Jiang Wei opened her domain, but captured nothing.
Raising her head, a statue of Buddha stood straight ahead, its dignified countenance inspiring awe.
“That Buddha statue was brought back by my mom from Thailand,” Zhou Fuzhen whispered. For some reason, whenever she walked into places like temples, Daoist shrines, or ancestral halls, she couldn’t help lowering her voice and didn’t dare speak loudly.
“Impressive,” Jiang Wei muttered, cautiously surveying and glancing left and right. That uncomfortable sensation of being watched by something lingered constantly, but Jiang Wei still hadn’t actually discovered anything amiss.
After all, her domain’s coverage was limited and couldn’t cover the entire villa—maybe there was nothing there, or maybe something was, but it simply wasn’t right next to them.
The two friends finished walking around the Buddhist room and toured the rest of the first-floor rooms before heading out to the villa entrance to watch Master Puyi perform the ritual together.
Master Puyi wore a solemn expression, draped in a cassock with an extraordinary bearing. Since supernatural phenomena existed in this world, bizarre individuals and arts certainly existed too. Seeing that both high masters looked thoroughly professional, Jiang Wei felt increasingly reassured.
Once monks gathered in sufficient numbers, their imposing aura became quite formidable. Over a dozen monks sat neatly in the villa’s courtyard, each with a gleaming bald head, bowing their heads to chant scriptures. Jiang Wei stood watching for a while and felt as though a layer of Buddhist light was about to coat her body.
The ritual went on for a long time with quite a complex workflow. By the end, everyone couldn’t help chiming in to chant a few verses of “Amitabha.” Little did anyone know that the reason this ritual was carried out with such meticulous detail was largely because Master Puyi intended to compete head-to-head with the Mount Longhu Celestial Master, vowing to thoroughly outshine him.
By the time the ritual concluded, everyone’s legs were aching from standing. Zhang Qianyu shook out his ritual robes and stepped forward, saying, “It’s my turn now.”
However, Master Puyi turned around and said, “Wait, there is still one important procedure remaining.” Ignoring Zhang Qianyu’s expression, which was barely holding together, he took the golden alms bowl handed to him by a young monk, turned, and walked back into the villa, beginning to chant scriptures and sprinkle water everywhere.
Zhang Qianyu let out a long sigh and ultimately said nothing, standing by the doorway to catch some fresh air instead. As a result, a gust of wind blew over, carrying thick smoke straight from the monks’ burning incense and causing him to cough fitfully. He had no choice but to retreat back into the villa holding his copper-coin sword.
Master Puyi bypassed the living room and headed straight for the Buddhist shrine room, casting a glance at the Buddha statue inside before stepping in. Everyone universally agreed that nothing could possibly go wrong here, given that it was a Buddhist sanctuary. Thus, handing his golden alms bowl to the young monk behind him, he walked inside and knelt before the prayer mat, chanting scriptures while bowing.
First bow, second bow—just as he prepared to raise his head, he suddenly saw a pair of pale-cyan children’s feet appear on the floor right in front of him. What is that?
Struck with horror, Master Puyi tried to stand up in a panic, only to discover that he couldn’t move at all.
He drew in a sharp, startled breath, feeling something icy cold pressing directly down on the crown of his head. His heart hammered wildly against his ribs, and he desperately tried to make a sound for help, but an oppressive force clamped down fiercely on him, rendering him incapable of moving even a single finger.
“The master is truly pious, kneeling over there without moving an inch for so long,” Jiang Wei whispered to Zhou Fuzhen from outside the shrine room.
“Why is the master’s face so red?” Zhou Fuzhen tilted her head to inspect closely, growing more puzzled the longer she looked. Not only was the master’s face beet red, but his expression also looked extremely… strained.
After a moment, Old Zhao turned to look at Old Zhou; both husband and wife wore expressions of having words stuck at the tips of their tongues. Old Zhou turned to look at the young monk standing by the door holding the alms bowl. Seeing that the novice was neither looking at them nor at Master Puyi, maintaining an exceptionally pious appearance, Old Zhou swallowed back what he wanted to say.
A short while later, Old Zhao finally lost her composure. “Master?”
Master Puyi knelt there unmoving.
“Master Puyi?” Old Zhao spoke up again.
Master Puyi remained completely motionless.
Everyone sensed something was amiss. The young monk also looked toward Master Puyi in astonishment and called out, “Master?”
Thinking nothing too grave of it, they assumed Master Puyi might have exhausted himself or suffered a stroke, and rushed inside to assist him.
Old Zhou and the young monk grabbed Master Puyi’s arms from left and right, attempting to pull him up. But as they hoisted his arm upward, they failed to budge Master Puyi by even a fraction of an inch.
Both men suddenly developed a bad premonition. Recalling what happened the night before, Old Zhou swallowed dryly and abruptly let go.
Following right behind Old Zhou, Jiang Wei caught sight of the frightened and hesitant expressions on Old Zhou and the novice’s faces. Curious, she looked at Master Puyi, who was still kneeling with his head bowed, and flicked her gaze open to deploy her domain.
The next instant, Jiang Wei felt something resisting the power of her domain. When she saw everything clearly through the omniscient vision of her domain, she was struck dumb with horror.
A cyan-gray child stood directly in front of Master Puyi, pressing one hand down on the master’s head.
Standing beside Jiang Wei, Old Zhou and the others also caught a glimpse of a blurry shadow at that exact moment. Old Zhou backed away two steps and turned around, shouting at Old Zhao to quickly fetch Celestial Master Zhang.
Hearing that a real ghost was present and had actually pinned Master Puyi down, Zhang Qianyu strode over in long strides. Staring at the others’ expressions, he thought with a jolt of panic: Could there really be a ghost?
Eyeing Master Puyi’s posture, he hesitated and stood an arm’s length away. Only when Old Zhao urged him, “Hurry up, Daoist master!” did he bite the bullet, take a step forward, and slash downward with force using the copper-coin sword in his hand.
Jiang Wei watched as Zhang Qianyu’s copper-coin sword passed straight through the little ghost’s body, seemingly without having any effect on it.
Checking her phone, she noticed that some changes had indeed occurred:
Beneath the little stick figure on the app interface, a line of text had emerged: [Descent Value: 3%]
In the blink of an eye, it shifted to [Descent Value: 4%].
Jiang Wei instantly realized that the resistance she felt when opening her domain originated from the little ghost. Once the little ghost was enveloped inside her domain, her domain was also exerting suppressing force upon it.
And utilizing this power caused the Descent Value to increase.
She just had no idea what this Descent Value actually represented or what changes it would bring.
Looking back up at the little ghost, its pitch-black eye sockets—devoid of eyeballs—were fixed on her, as if staring right back. Jiang Wei could feel her domain enclosing it, steadily weakening its power.
Abruptly, the little ghost withdrew its hand and rapidly retreated out of the range of Jiang Wei’s domain.
The next second, Master Puyi felt that he could move again. Letting out a low, miserable groan, he scrambled and crawled outward. The young monk beside him reached out to grab him, and gripping the novice’s arm, Master Puyi used the leverage to slide forward quite a distance before managing to stand up.
Stumbling, he didn’t even bother turning back to exchange pleasantries with Boss Zhou and his wife, driven solely by the singular instinct to flee.
Seeing Master Puyi scramble away in such a disheveled state, and recalling that the old monk had been able to move the moment he slashed his sword down, Zhang Qianyu felt a surge of delight. It looked like his efforts had worked after all.
However, before he could even celebrate, a heavy blow struck his chest, and Zhang Qianyu fell backward onto the floor with a heavy thud.
Everyone turned around and discovered that Zhang Qianyu had ended up just like Master Puyi moments before—unable to speak or move a muscle.
Frightened out of their wits, Old Zhou and Old Zhao grabbed Zhenzhen and pulled her backward, while Zhenzhen grabbed Jiang Wei. The four of them retreated several meters, crossed the threshold out of the shrine room, and ran outward.
As soon as Jiang Wei stepped out of her domain’s range, the domain automatically retracted. She pulled out her phone, tapped open the dark-framed app, and discovered that once she closed her domain and stopped borrowing supernatural power to suppress the little ghost, the Descent Value stopped growing.
Why is it called Descent Value?*
Is this 4% a descent countdown?*
A descent countdown for what?*
Where is it descending to? This world? Like some kind of supreme demon lord?*
While Jiang Wei was busy studying the newly added [Descent Value] on the dark-framed app, Zhang Qianyu, left behind as Jiang Wei walked further away, felt the weight on his chest grow even heavier.
He rolled his eyes, wanting to call out to the others for help, only to find that everyone had already fled out of the shrine room and was nowhere to be seen.
Shit, he cursed internally, panic setting in. Holy hell, how did I actually run into the real thing?
Looks like he was going to meet his end here today.
…
“What are we going to do?” The young Daoist acolyte stood at the villa entrance stamping his feet in anxiety. Was his martial uncle about to die?
“Should we call the police?” Old Zhao clutched her chest, feeling equally flustered.
“Would calling the police even work?” Old Zhou placed his hands on his hips. The police could catch bad criminals, but could they catch ghosts? By the time the police arrived, not only would they fail to solve the problem, but they’d also lecture them into the bargain.
With the monks in the courtyard already packing up their ritual altars, Old Zhao suddenly remembered her daughter’s life-saving Weng Zhong jade pendant and the good classmate Jiang Wei who had been invited over.
Turning to see Jiang Wei staring intently at her own fingers with a frown, Old Zhao immediately assumed Jiang Wei was pinching her fingers to divine today’s fortune, and asked worriedly:
“Master Jiang, what should we do now?”