Cannot Draw a Prize?

The master and disciple finished clearing up the mess outside the thatched cottage as the sky gradually darkened.

They retraced their steps along the desolate path they had come by, and by the time they reached the county town, it was already the hour for lighting lamps.

All around was gray and dim, with only a few points of lamplight glowing in the direction of the courier station.

The two walked toward the candlelight, and before they even drew near, they could hear the clamor of voices inside the hall, clear as day through the door panels.

"What do you mean, 'lost'? Two living, breathing people, in broad daylight—how could they just be lost?"

That was the County Magistrate's voice, urgent and irate, the final syllable rising sharply.

Zhang Qi's voice came through, aggrieved and hesitant: "This lowly one doesn't know either... Perhaps it's not necessarily that they're lost—maybe some demon or monster carried them off..."

"Bullshit!"

The Magistrate's voice shot up abruptly, scolding him without restraint: "What demon would dare lay hands on the Taoist masters of Clear Wind Temple? Rushing to their own death?"

The room immediately erupted into a cacophony of voices—the Assistant Magistrate, the Chief Clerk, the Stationmaster, Zhang Qi—all tangled together, no one able to make out what anyone else was saying.

Occasionally, the clatter of cups and saucers could be heard, clearly indicating a sizable crowd.

Just as Shen Hui and the Old Taoist stepped onto the stone steps, the tall, thin "gatekeeper" spotted them first, his eyes lighting up.

He turned and ran inside, shouting at the top of his lungs: "They're back! They're back! The two Taoist masters are back!"

The other, shorter and plumper one, slightly restrained his arrogant stance, bowed his head in a nod, and stepped aside to make way.

No sooner had the tall, thin man gone in than a crowd came pouring out.

Leading them was Magistrate Wang, followed by the Assistant Magistrate, the Chief Clerk, and the Stationmaster—a dark, jostling mass.

Magistrate Wang spotted the Old Taoist at once, and his taut expression instantly relaxed.

He rushed forward a few steps and reached out to grab the Old Taoist's sleeve.

The Old Taoist sidestepped without a sound, and the hand grasped at empty air.

Quick-witted, the Magistrate turned his hand mid-air into a gesture of invitation, his face betraying no embarrassment as he chuckled:

"So the Taoist master has returned! This humble official has been waiting anxiously. Not a trace of you all afternoon—my heart was in turmoil, afraid you two might be displeased with my poor hospitality..."

He rambled on for a while, nothing but words of "worry" and "concern," his voice loud enough, but his sincerity no thicker than a window pane.

Zhang Qi poked his head out from the crowd, staring at the master and disciple with a puzzled expression: "Honored masters, which shop did you go to? This lowly one circled Civil Temple Street several times but never caught sight of you..."

Before he could finish, the Magistrate waved him off impatiently: "Go, go, go. Go feed your horse."

Zhang Qi was taken aback: "What horse? Isn't that a mule?"

The Magistrate glared at him: "Then go feed your mule!"

Zhang Qi added: "But this lowly one already fed it a moment ago..."

The Magistrate's face darkened, his tone growing more irritable: "Then get lost and shovel its dung!"

Zhang Qi wanted to say something more, but the Stationmaster grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him away.

As he left, he glanced back, muttering something aggrieved under his breath, but no one caught it.

With Zhang Qi dismissed, the Magistrate turned back, his face once again wreathed in smiles as he led the master and disciple inside.

As they walked, he made small talk about their comfort, never once asking where they had been that afternoon.

Shen Hui watched coldly, finding it all rather amusing.

Once everyone was seated, the Magistrate hurriedly ordered the servants to prepare a feast, personally poured tea and handed it over, smiling apologetically:

"Truly shameful. I should have hosted a welcome banquet for you two last night, but I was tied up with trivial matters, and it's been delayed until now. I hope the Taoist masters won't take offense."

Shen Hui took the tea bowl, watching the Magistrate bow and scrape, and sneered inwardly.

He wondered whether the Magistrate had truly been busy with affairs, or if he was afraid the two of them might quit the job, and had rushed over with wine and apologies.

The Magistrate personally raised a cup, toasting the Old Taoist first, beaming: "I hear that last night, the two of you made a move and in no time at all cleansed the Liu Family Old Residence of its evil spirits. The Taoist master's arts are truly profound—well-deserved reputation!"

The Old Taoist chuckled lightly, took a sip from his cup, and said flatly: "This poor Taoist merely watched from the sidelines. It was my disciple who did the work."

The Magistrate's gaze shifted, landing on Shen Hui, his eyes full of surprise.

He raised his cup and leaned in, heaping on praise: "Ah, indeed! A famous master produces a fine disciple! The young Taoist master is so young yet possesses such skill—truly a youthful prodigy! Come, come, let this humble official toast the young master!"

Shen Hui smiled, raised his cup in response, but saw through it all clearly.

This Magistrate had surely already questioned the two constables and knew everything about last night's events. His surprise now was nothing but an act.

Still, Shen Hui couldn't be bothered to expose him, merely responding with polite pleasantries like "You flatter me" and "A mere trifle."

As they spoke, a servant entered to report that the meal was ready.

The Magistrate immediately bustled about, guiding everyone to the table, pointing as he walked:

"This feast was specially ordered by this humble official from Fortune Restaurant. Though it can't compare to the delicacies of the capital, it's the best Qu County has to offer. And this wine—Bamboo Leaf Green from the south—smooth on the finish, most nourishing..."

The dishes at the table were quite lavish—chicken, duck, fish, and pork laid out in abundance. Though prepared by a county cook, they were still fragrant and appealing.

The Magistrate was exceedingly attentive, now serving food, now urging drinks, his mouth never still, praising the Old Taoist over and over, then praising Shen Hui over and over.

The Old Taoist remained indifferent, occasionally responding with a word or two, but mostly just lowering his head to eat.

Shen Hui had no choice but to step in and smooth things over for his master.

Fortunately, though he spoke little, every word hit the mark, and an occasional quip or joke kept the conversation lively and clever.

Even the Old Taoist was amused enough to down a few cups, his face flushing slightly as he grew more talkative.

After several rounds of wine, the County Magistrate was already beaming red-faced, his speech slurring and rambling.

One moment he grabbed Shen Hui's hand, saying, "Little Taoist, you're truly a young hero," and the next he muttered about "an unmarried niece of mine," beautiful as a flower and so on.

Shen Hui didn't take the bait, merely listening with a faint smile.

After a few more drinks, the County Magistrate finally gave out, slumping in his chair and hiccupping.

Seeing this, Shen Hui called over a few servants to help the County Magistrate, Assistant Magistrate, and the others out one by one.

Once most had left, the main hall quieted down, leaving only the master and disciple.

Shen Hui stood up and walked with the Old Taoist toward the back courtyard.

Arriving there, he saw the Old Taoist into his room to rest, then turned and headed for Scholar Li's room.

Pushing open the door, the room was already spotless—fresh bedding laid out, a pot of tea and a few plates of snacks on the table, clearly prepared in advance.

As for where Scholar Li had gone, no one in the entire inn mentioned a word.

Shen Hui sat down at the table, poured a cup of tea, and drank slowly.

The tea was old, a bit astringent, but it helped sober him up.

Setting down the cup, he looked around.

First, he closed his eyes and regulated his breath for a moment. Once his inner energy had settled, he focused inward, silently tallying the cultivation points he had gained today.

Since coming down the mountain, every time he eliminated a malevolent entity, his cultivation points increased by a measure.

The yin ghost at the Liu Family Old Residence, plus the Evil Cultivator from the Qishan Sect today—two cases in total—had netted him nearly six hundred points.

But strangely, this time he hadn't earned a draw from the Corpse Liberation Wheel.

This differed from his earlier assumption.

He had originally thought that every time he killed a cultivator, he would gain one draw, but reality proved otherwise.

"So, the key isn't whether I kill someone?"

Or was there some difference between these two kills?

Shen Hui sank into thought.

Their cultivation realms were different, their traditions were not the same, and their ages varied greatly...

"It seems I'll need to find a few Evil Cultivators later and try the controlled variable method."

As for these cultivation points...

Better to keep them in reserve for now. If nothing else changes, I'll prioritize raising my cultivation and reach Foundation Establishment as soon as possible.