Maoshan successor? Are you sure you're not a toilet successor?

The Lin family's 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 gate and along a stone path towards the main building. Outside the windows, the meticulously manicured gardens and the fountain, shimmering under the night lights, exuded an air of wealth-induced refinement and tranquility.

As they entered, a chilling, viscous resentment like an invisible spiderweb began to cling to them.

This resentment felt strange.

Qin Feng frowned inwardly. He had dealt with many resentful spirits, but this one felt off.

This resentment didn't possess the violent murderous intent of ordinary vengeful ghosts. Instead, it carried an ancient, mournful quality, as if peeled from a Song Dynasty painting of a court lady, soaked in tears – lingering, sorrowful, and full of lament.

"Brother Qin, my dad is inside," Lin Haoran said, pushing open a carved wooden door to reveal a lavish living room.

The living room was decorated with extreme luxury: crystal chandeliers, leather sofas, Persian rugs, and walls adorned with valuable calligraphy and paintings.

The living room was the epitome of opulence. A middle-aged man with a refined but visibly haggard face paced anxiously; it was Lin Haoran's father, Lin Guodong.

And on the grand chair in the center of the living room sat a middle-aged man in a blue Taoist robe, stroking his goatee, eyes closed in repose, exuding an air of immortal grace.

"Dad, I'm back," Lin Haoran walked over quickly. "This is Qin Feng, an anomalous friend I specifically invited to help!"

Upon hearing this, a hint of displeasure flashed across Lin Guodong's face.

Before he could speak, the man in the Taoist robe suddenly opened his eyes, two sharp glints piercing Qin Feng, filled with scrutiny and arrogance.

"Mr. Lin," he said, his voice not loud but carrying a condescending tone, "This humble Taoist, Qing Xuzi, is the 108th-generation successor of the Orthodox Maoshan Sect. With me here, malevolent spirits are repelled. What is the meaning of your son bringing this person? Do you not trust my sect's centuries of heritage, or do you think... this brat is stronger than me, whom countless wealthy individuals in Hong Kong admire?"

He could tell at a glance that Qin Feng was young and dressed ordinarily, concluding he was just another charlatan trying to swindle people.

Lin Guodong's expression changed, and he quickly berated Lin Haoran, "You scoundrel! What nonsense is this! I paid two million to invite Master Qing Xuzi, a renowned expert from Hong Kong. Why are you bringing a classmate here to cause trouble? Apologize to the Master immediately!"

"Dad! Brother Qin is really amazing!" Lin Haoran's face turned red with urgency.

"Amazing?" Qing Xuzi scoffed, slowly rising from his chair and flicking his horsetail whisk. "Mr. Lin, it seems our paths diverge here. Since you have such a capable person in your household, this old bone will not presume to show off. I bid you farewell!"

With that, he made a move as if to leave.

This tactic of "advancing by retreating" had been honed to perfection.

"Master, don't go!"

Lin Guodong panicked, quickly getting up to stop him, while glaring fiercely at Lin Haoran.

"You scoundrel! What are you doing causing trouble?"

"The Master is a legitimate Maoshan successor. Why are you bringing a classmate here to cause trouble?"

"Go, take your friend to the guest room to rest. Treat him well, and don't disturb the Master's ritual."

Lin Haoran looked at Qin Feng for help, only to find that Qin Feng was completely ignoring the commotion.

At some point, he had found a single sofa, crossed his legs, and was observing Qing Xuzi with great interest, his gaze like that of someone watching a monkey performing tricks at the zoo.

Qin Feng could clearly see that this so-called "Orthodox Maoshan Sect" successor had no trace of the spiritual energy fluctuations that a true cultivator should possess, nor did he have the dark aura and malevolent energy that the Special Cases Department's field agents carried.

He said calmly to Lin Haoran, "Your father's two million was spent in vain.

Judging by the 'master's' equipment – the Peachwood Sword, compass, Bagua mirror...

The total probably doesn't exceed three hundred yuan. I can get the same set, discounted, at the wholesale market downstairs, number 15, for two hundred and eighty, with an invoice."

Qing Xuzi's face instantly turned the color of liver. The leg he had started to move froze in mid-air.

Leave?

If he left, wouldn't it confirm that he was a fraud?

He abruptly turned around and stared fixedly at Qin Feng, "You insolent brat, how dare you insult my Xuanmen Orthodox Sect! What do you know!

These are ritual artifacts passed down from my Maoshan ancestors, how can they be compared to ordinary objects!"

"Since the Master is so confident,"

Qin Feng finally spoke, his voice not loud but clearly reaching everyone's ears.

"This junior is ignorant. Today, I would be glad to broaden my horizons and witness how the true Maoshan Taoist magic vanquishes demons and eliminates evil."

Qing Xuzi's face darkened. He cursed inwardly, "He's courting death," but since the other party had provided a way down, he decided to go with it, which would also showcase his esteemed status.

"Hmph, a child who can be taught."

He sat back down on the sofa, adopting an attitude of not bothering with a junior.

"Since young friend is eager to learn, today, this humble Taoist will let you witness what the Xuanmen Orthodox Sect truly is!"

Qing Xuzi began to set up the altar.

He took out various items from a worn canvas bag: yellow talismans, red strings, bells, mirrors, and some mysterious-looking small bottles.

He arranged these items on the coffee table with great ceremony, making it look quite impressive.

"Heaven and Earth, Xuan and Huang, the universe and the primordial chaos..." Qing Xuzi counted on his fingers, muttering incantations, appearing to be calculating heavenly secrets.

Qin Feng almost burst out laughing.

He's reciting the Thousand Character Classic. This guy is truly something else.

"Mr. Lin, this humble Taoist has already calculated it."

Qing Xuzi put on a solemn air.

"Your wife is indeed being haunted by a Malevolent Spirit, and this one is no ordinary entity, filled with immense resentment.

But don't worry, Mr. Lin. Righteousness always prevails over evil. I have my methods to subdue it."

"Really? Reverend, I beg you!" The father was so excited he almost knelt.

Qing Xuzi waved his hand. "Mr. Lin, there's no need for such formality. Exorcising demons and subduing spirits is the duty of us cultivators."

Qing Xuzi took a deep breath, feeling completely in character.

The awestruck gazes of those around him, Lin Guodong's nervous anticipation, and the "eager" eyes of that ignorant young man greatly satisfied his vain heart.

His eyes suddenly flashed with brilliance. He drew a bright red Peachwood Sword from his back and performed a flourish he thought was quite dashing.

"Heaven and Earth are boundless, by the power of the cosmos! Great Lord Taishang, by your command!"

He loudly chanted incantations he'd learned from Hong Kong zombie movies, his feet moving in a haphazard "Seven Star Step" as he paced around the makeshift altar.

He swung the Peachwood Sword with great vigor, its tip occasionally pointing towards the stairs, his posture imposing and his aura powerful.

Lin Guodong and his son Lin Haoran were stunned by the spectacle, not daring to breathe.

Only Qin Feng yawned, bored.

Even the old men doing their morning exercises in the park had a more standard routine.

"Evil spirit! Show yourself at once!"

Qing Xuzi shouted, sticking a yellow paper with scribbled symbols onto the sword and pointing it sharply upstairs. "En!"

His shout of "En!" was like a thunderclap, its echo reverberating through the living room.

However, the expected burst of golden light and ghostly wails did not appear.

Instead, all the lights in the villa went out with a pop!

A wave of resentment, ten times colder than before, erupted, and the temperature in the living room plummeted to freezing! Frost formed on the windowpanes!

From the direction of the stairs came a mournful, piercing wail, like a woman's cry that could pierce eardrums!

"It's over..." The color drained from Qing Xuzi's face. His legs went weak, and he collapsed onto the ground, his Peachwood Sword clattering to the floor.

He knew that his haphazard performance had not only been useless but had also thoroughly enraged the entity!