Lin Family Estate was located in Donghai City's most expensive villa district, covering an area as large as two football fields.
Qin Feng followed Lin Haoran through the wrought-iron gates and along the stone path toward the main building. The gardens outside were trimmed to perfection, and the fountain glittered under the night lights. Everything exuded the refinement and tranquility that only money could build.
As they went deeper inside, a cold, viscous resentment wrapped around them like an invisible spiderweb.
This resentment was strange.
Qin Feng frowned inwardly. He had dealt with plenty of resentful spirits, but the resentment he sensed this time felt somewhat off.
Unlike an ordinary Vengeful Ghost, which would be filled with violent murderous intent, this resentment carried an ancient, mournful quality. It was as though it had been peeled from a Song Dynasty portrait of a beauty soaked in tears—tender, sorrowful, and plaintive.
"Brother Qin, my dad's inside." Lin Haoran pushed open the carved wooden doors, revealing a magnificently decorated living room.
The living room was extravagantly furnished, with a crystal chandelier, leather sofas, Persian rugs, and valuable calligraphy and paintings hanging on the walls.
In the lavish living room, a refined-looking middle-aged man who could not hide his exhaustion paced anxiously about. He was Lin Haoran's father, Lin Guodong.
And seated in a grand armchair at the center of the room was a middle-aged man in a blue Daoist robe, stroking his goatee with his eyes closed. He had the bearing of an immortal sage.
"Dad, I'm back." Lin Haoran hurried over. "This is Qin Feng, a gifted friend I specifically invited to help!"
A flash of displeasure crossed Lin Guodong's face.
Before he could speak, the Daoist-robed man abruptly opened his eyes. His sharp gaze shot toward Qin Feng, filled with scrutiny and arrogance.
"Boss Lin," he said in a low but condescending tone, "I am Qing Xuzi, the 108th-generation heir of the Orthodox Maoshan Sect. With me here, all demons and evil spirits shall flee. What does your son mean by this? Does he distrust my sect's century-old heritage, or does he think... this brat is stronger than this Daoist, whom countless Hong Kong tycoons seek after?"
One look was enough for him to see that Qin Feng was young and plainly dressed. He immediately decided that Qin Feng was another charlatan out to swindle people.
Lin Guodong's expression changed. He immediately scolded Lin Haoran, "You brat! What nonsense are you causing? Daoist Qing Xuzi is a master I spent two million hiring from Hong Kong! Why did you bring some classmate here to make trouble? Apologize to the Daoist at once!"
"Dad! Brother Qin is really amazing!" Lin Haoran's face flushed red with anxiety.
"Amazing?" Qing Xuzi scoffed and slowly rose from his chair, flicking his whisk. "Boss Lin, it seems our fate ends here. Since your residence has such an expert, this old man will not remain here and make a fool of himself. Farewell!"
With that, he made as if to leave.
He had mastered this tactic of retreating in order to advance.
"Daoist, don't go!"
Lin Guodong panicked at once. He hurriedly stood to stop him, while shooting Lin Haoran a fierce glare.
"You useless brat! What are you making a fuss for?"
"The Daoist is a genuine Maoshan heir. Why did you bring some classmate here to cause trouble?"
"Go. Take your friend to the guest room and treat him well. Don't disturb the Daoist while he performs his rites."
Lin Haoran looked toward Qin Feng as if asking for help, only to find that Qin Feng was not paying any attention to this farce.
At some point, he had found himself a single sofa and sat down with one leg crossed over the other. He watched Qing Xuzi with great interest, his gaze like someone watching a monkey perform tricks at the zoo.
Qin Feng could naturally tell that this so-called "Orthodox Maoshan Sect" practitioner did not possess even the slightest spiritual fluctuation that a true cultivator should have. Nor did he have the gloomy, baleful aura clinging to the Special Cases Department's field agents.
He said casually to Lin Haoran, "Your dad's two million was spent rather unfairly.
"Just the gear on this 'master'—the Peachwood Sword, compass, Bagua mirror...
"All of it together probably costs less than three hundred. The same set is on sale at the No. 15 wholesale market below my building for two hundred eighty, receipt included."
Qing Xuzi's face instantly turned the color of pig liver, and the leg he had raised to leave froze in midair.
Leave?
Wouldn't leaving prove that he was a fraud?
He spun around and glared fiercely at Qin Feng. "You insolent brat, how dare you insult the orthodox Xuanmen! What do you know?
"These are ritual artifacts passed down by the patriarchs of my Maoshan Sect! How can common objects compare?"
"Since the Daoist is so confident."
Qin Feng finally spoke. His voice was not loud, yet everyone heard it clearly.
"This junior is untalented and ignorant. Today is the perfect chance to broaden my horizons and witness how true Maoshan arts slay demons and eradicate evil."
Qing Xuzi's face darkened. He cursed reckless fool inwardly, but since the other party had handed him a way out, he could take it and show off his lofty bearing as well.
"Hmph. You can be taught."
He sat back down on the sofa, assuming the pose of an elder who could not be bothered to argue with a junior.
"Since you are eager to learn, young friend, this Daoist shall let you see what orthodox Xuanmen truly means today!"
Qing Xuzi began setting up his ritual altar.
He pulled various items from a shabby canvas bag: yellow talismans, red string, bells, mirrors, and several mysterious-looking little bottles.
He arranged them on the coffee table with great ceremony, and it looked fairly convincing.
"Heaven and earth are dark and yellow, the universe vast and ancient..." Qing Xuzi pinched his fingers together and muttered under his breath, looking as though he were calculating the secrets of heaven.
Qin Feng nearly laughed out loud.
He had memorized the Thousand Character Classic. This guy really was something else.
"Boss Lin, I've calculated it."
Qing Xuzi put on a profound expression.
"Your wife is indeed haunted by an evil spirit, and this evil spirit has an extraordinary origin. Its resentment is extremely heavy."
"But don't worry, Boss Lin. Evil cannot overcome righteousness. This Daoist has a way to subdue it."
"Really? Daoist, please, I'm begging you!" Father Lin was so excited that he nearly dropped to his knees.
Qing Xuzi waved a hand. "Boss Lin, there is no need for this. Slaying demons and eliminating evil is the duty of cultivators like us."
Qing Xuzi took a deep breath, feeling that he had fully entered the zone.
The awed gazes around him, Lin Guodong's anxious anticipation, and the curious look in that ignorant young man's eyes all greatly satisfied his vanity.
His eyes suddenly flashed with brilliance. He drew the bright red Peachwood Sword from behind his back and performed what he thought was a dashing sword flourish.
"Boundless heaven and earth, lend me the power of yin and yang! By the urgent decree of the Supreme Lord!"
He loudly chanted spells he had learned from Hong Kong zombie films. His feet traced an unstructured "Seven Stars Step" as he paced back and forth around his makeshift altar.
The Peachwood Sword whistled through the air in his hands, its tip occasionally pointing toward the staircase. His stance was imposing, and his momentum was impressive.
Lin Guodong and Lin Haoran were both stunned by the display, scarcely daring to breathe.
Only Qin Feng yawned in boredom.
Even the old men doing morning exercises in the park had more proper form than this.
"Demon! Reveal yourself at once!"
Qing Xuzi shouted, slapping a sheet of yellow paper covered in Ghost Talismans onto the sword blade. He pointed it fiercely upstairs. "By decree!"
His shout of "By decree!" rang with such force that its echo reverberated through the living room.
Yet the anticipated burst of golden light and wails of ghosts never came.
Instead, every light in the villa went out with a snap!
Resentment ten times colder than before erupted with a boom, and the temperature throughout the living room plunged to freezing! A layer of white frost formed over the window glass!
From the direction of the stairs came a woman's mournful, shrill howl, as if it could pierce their eardrums!
"It's over..." The color instantly drained from Qing Xuzi's face. His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the floor. The Peachwood Sword in his hand clanged to the ground.
He knew that his reckless fumbling had not only failed—it had thoroughly enraged that thing!
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