Master of the Headshot

Everyone suddenly looked up—the main beam in the center of the hall had snapped in two, and half of it, along with a large chunk of tiles, was crashing straight down toward their heads.

That beam was thick as a man's arms could encircle; if it landed solidly, the people below would likely be maimed or killed.

Shen Hui looked up, his gaze turning cold in an instant.

He raised his right hand, and a fire ghost over ten feet tall leaped out from behind him, charging straight at the broken beam.

Everyone present was horrified—whether by the falling beam or the fire ghost, no one could tell.

"Boom!"

The fire ghost collided with the beam, knocking it off course. It slammed diagonally into the east wall of the hall, collapsing half of it.

Tiles, broken bricks, and dust rained down like a storm as the crowd screamed and scattered in all directions.

Scholar Li crouched on the ground, clutching his head in terror. Monk Faming grabbed him by the hair and dragged him backward, while the two constables stumbled toward the door.

Shen Hui did not retreat.

He stared fixedly at the spot where the beam had broken.

A wisp of black qi was there, slithering swiftly along the beam frame.

He switched to his left hand for the hand seal, pressed his right index and middle fingers together, and shot out a stream of Sharp Gold Qi from his middle fingertip.

A white light struck the black qi dead center!

"Aaaah—!"

A piercing, shrill scream came from the beam, making everyone's hair stand on end.

The black qi was pierced through by the Sharp Gold Qi, but it did not dissipate. Instead, it exploded into several strands, scattering and fleeing along the beam frame.

Wherever the black qi passed, the entire hall began to shake.

Rafters snapped one after another, tiles fell like rain, and dust filled the air, stinging eyes and choking throats.

Chaos erupted inside. The two constables had already retreated to the doorway, and Monk Faming, dragging Scholar Li, was nearly out as well.

Just then, a yellow talisman shot out from behind Shen Hui like a bolt of lightning, sticking squarely onto the center of the main beam.

The moment the yellow talisman landed, the entire beam shuddered violently.

The scattered strands of black qi seemed pinned in place by something, unable to move an inch.

The Old Taoist withdrew his hand and stood calmly at Shen Hui's side.

Seeing the black qi trapped, Monk Faming quickly let go of Scholar Li's hair, reached up, and plucked a Buddhist bead from his necklace.

The bead spun once in his palm, then suddenly lit up with a faint golden glow.

He chanted a spell, gently pushed the bead forward, and it flew toward the black qi like a shooting star.

Shen Hui caught the movement from the corner of his eye, and his heart tightened.

Don't steal the kill! (voice cracking)

He changed his hand seal.

Dark red fire lines immediately appeared on the surrounding pillars and rafters, darting and weaving from all directions, flashing like blooming light.

At almost the same instant, the fire lines and the Buddhist bead reached the black qi.

Shen Hui was a step faster.

The fire lines wrapped around the black qi a breath before the bead, and with a single tight twist, they burned it clean away.

The Buddhist bead struck empty air, spun around once, and flew back into Monk Faming's hand.

The hall fell silent.

The broken beam still hung askew against the wall, shattered tiles scattered across the floor, and dust drifted slowly down.

Shen Hui stood in the center of the hall. The fire lines that had been darting around all detached from the rafters and pillars, swiftly converging back into his palm like birds returning to their nests.

The Old Taoist looked at Shen Hui, a hint of surprise in his expression. "When did you learn the Sharp Gold and Earth Transformation techniques?"

"Uh..."

Shen Hui looked at the Old Taoist's slightly comical expression and didn't know how to answer.

He wanted to tell him he'd learned them all, but he was afraid his master would say he was too greedy.

Seeing him like this, the Old Taoist pointed at him from a distance with a hint of exasperation.

"Biting off more than you can chew—do you understand?"

Can't find the book by title? Try searching by the author—maybe it just changed names!

"Master, rest assured, your disciple understands. If it hinders my cultivation, I'll stop practicing so many."

The Old Taoist snorted through his nose, ignored the still-shaken crowd, and turned to walk out.

"Let's go," he said flatly. "The matter here is finished."

Shen Hui withdrew his gaze, glanced at the skeleton still lying on the ground, and said quietly to the constables, "Please, Officer Xu, find a proper place to bury him."

Old Xu quickly nodded.

Shen Hui stepped out the door, quickened his pace to the Old Taoist's side, and lowered his voice to ask:

"Master, are we just leaving like this?"

The Old Taoist glanced at him, kept walking without slowing, and unhurriedly uttered a few words:

"What's the rush? This is called casting a stone to clear the path, rustling the grass to startle the snake."

Shen Hui thought for a moment, then nodded and said no more.

The matter in the residence seemed settled, but that black energy had appeared suspiciously, as if someone had deliberately used secret arts to nurture a ghostly entity.

Now that they had eliminated the ghost, if the person behind it found out, they might grow restless and make a move.

The group walked out of the alley, where Chen Shou was still standing with the two constables.

Seeing them emerge, he hurried forward, his gaze sweeping across their faces, hesitating to speak.

Just now, the residence had shaken like a mountain shifting and the sea churning, with flames leaping to the sky.

At this moment, the master and disciple pair wore calm expressions, while the scholar had disheveled hair and a disheveled appearance, and the others were all covered in dust and soot. For a moment, he couldn't gauge the situation.

"This is..."

"The specter in the residence has been eliminated," the Old Taoist said flatly.

Chen Shou froze for an instant, then a smile broke across his face, spreading from the corners of his mouth to the edges of his eyes, as if the days of worry had been swept away by those words.

He clasped his hands and said repeatedly, "Your Daoist prowess is profound, This Humble One admires it!"

After a pause, he added, "If the common folk around here knew, they'd be overjoyed."

These words weren't flattery; his voice carried a genuine sense of relief.

The Old Taoist hummed noncommittally.

Chen Shou didn't mind and led the group toward the county office, saying as they walked, "This official has prepared some food at the post station. It's hastily done and quite simple, I hope you won't mind it."

Shen Hui's stomach had long been empty, and upon hearing this, he couldn't help but quicken his pace.

The post station was on the west side of the county office, a small single-courtyard compound with gray bricks and tiles, kept in decent order.

In the front hall was a round table with a few plates of side dishes, a pot of hot congee, a steamer of buns, and a flask of warm yellow wine.

Simple indeed, but on this cold night of the first month, having a hot meal was already a rare comfort.

Shen Hui glanced at his master; the Old Taoist's expression was unchanged, neither approving nor disapproving, so he took it as tacit consent.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, he took the lead in pulling out a chair and inviting the Old Taoist to sit.

Shen Hui ladled a bowl of congee for his master, then one for himself, and downed a few mouthfuls with pickled vegetables, finally feeling warmth in his stomach.

Faming Monk recited the offering prayer before picking up his chopsticks, eating neither quickly nor slowly.

Scholar Li sat to the side, finally setting down his fan, holding a bowl and sipping the congee in small mouthfuls. His complexion was much better than in the residence, though his hands still trembled slightly.

During the meal, they didn't speak much, mainly because they had little in common and couldn't see eye to eye.

Two Daoists, a monk, and a scholar.

The monk aside, as for the scholar, perhaps he had picked up some tricks somewhere and thought to emulate the practitioners of the mystical path in slaying demons and vanquishing evil.

The result, naturally, went without saying.

A silver-tipped spearhead—break at the first touch.

Once everyone set down their chopsticks, Chen Shou busied himself with arranging accommodations.

This post station wasn't large to begin with, just a single courtyard and three guest halls reserved for officials.

Now, with the master and disciple pair, Faming Monk, and Scholar Li—four people to house—no matter how he divided it, it wasn't enough.

Chen Shou rubbed his hands together, looking a bit embarrassed: "This... this official truly overlooked this and didn't consider..."

The Old Taoist waved a hand: "This poor Daoist can share a room with my disciple."

Faming Monk lowered his eyelids and chanted a Buddha's name: "One room is enough for this poor monk."

Scholar Li opened his mouth as if to say something, then swallowed it back and simply nodded.

Chen Shou, relieved, quickly ordered someone to prepare the rooms.