It's Starting to Have the Flavor of a Dojo from a Past Life

No sooner had Zhang Qilin finished giving his orders than a guard came hurrying over.

"Chief Zhang, the young lady has something important to discuss with you."

Zhang Qilin frowned deeply and glanced at the side door that had already been sealed shut. "Remember this: no matter what sounds come from inside, no one is to open the door!"

"Yes!" the guards answered in unison, gripping the sabers at their waists.

Only then did Zhang Qilin turn and leave. Almost the instant he was gone, rustling sounds arose from behind the door. Evidently, the three people in the wooden crates had awakened.

The guards left behind exchanged glances. None dared move; they merely stared fixedly at the side door.

"Let us out!"

"Help!"

"My lords, we've been orphaned and alone since childhood—how have we ever offended you people?!"

Piercing screams rang out from behind the door. The beggars clearly understood the danger of their plight.

Then, suddenly, the screams cut off.

Hummm.

A bell tolled from the depths of the pawnshop, deep and lingering, its echoes rippling outward in layer upon layer.

Ren Qing stood to one side. He saw the three beggars stiffen instantly at the sound of the bell, the terror on their faces freezing into blankness as though their souls had been plucked away.

A strange divine sense swept past faintly. As expected, it came from Zhou Can.

"Strange."

Ren Qing did not panic. In a corner of the wall barely half a meter away, Black Rat Dao Child had long since burrowed a hole. All they needed to do was pry up the stone bricks to escape the pawnshop.

Hummm.

Another bell tolled.

Ren Qing recalled hearing that when he had passed by private schools in the past, teachers would usually ring a bell to remind students it was time for lessons.

A more distinct divine sense quietly spread over the area.

A faint glow flickered between Ren Qing's brows as he suppressed the urge to release his own divine sense.

"Zhou Can's method of becoming immortal seems to involve the use of divine sense. In that case, there is nothing to fear. At the very least, Zhou Can cannot stop this poor Daoist."

Ren Qing turned to look at the three beggars. Their ragged clothes had somehow transformed into white Daoist robes, but their expressions had grown even more vacant as they followed the bell's chime onward.

Hummm.

He did not resist Zhou Can's divine sense. His clothes likewise turned into a Daoist robe, and he followed behind the three men.

After passing down a small path, a brightly lit Daoist temple came into view in the depths of the pawnshop. Bamboo groves around it swayed softly in the wind, and several plots of farmland could even be seen.

The Daoist temple was jarringly out of place, as if it had appeared from thin air.

"It should be Zhou Can's spell."

Ren Qing had circled Treasure Gathering Pawnshop several times during the day. Looking in from outside, there had been no Daoist temple at all. Everything reeked of unreality, like a dream.

"Please enter. This is where your master cultivates in peace."

An aged murmur sounded from within the Daoist temple, yet it also seemed to come from all directions.

"You are fortunate enough to hear an immortal preach the Dao. Naturally, you are also disciples of I, Zhou Can."

As soon as the words fell, the temple gates opened on their own. Inside was unexpectedly arranged like a classroom. An old Daoist sat cross-legged atop the central platform, surrounded by dozens of desks. Twenty or thirty white-robed Daoists already sat at them with their heads bowed.

Ren Qing recognized the old Daoist at once. It was that Accountant Zhou.

The sense of incongruity was strongest within ten meters of Zhou Can.

His Daoist robe resembled a stage costume, while on his head he wore a golden sparrow-topped hat like one donned after passing the provincial examination. The floor was inlaid with huge slabs of jade, and the curtains were woven entirely from gold thread—utterly at odds with the words "cultivates in peace."

"The four of you, take your seats. Your master will soon begin preaching the Dao."

Zhou Can pointed at the four of them, exuding a deliberately cultivated air of immortal grace. His every word and movement carried the same dazed unreality of someone within a dream.

Ren Qing walked toward an empty desk and noticed that every desk had a brush, ink, and an inkstone.

The Daoists had all been trying to record something, but their handwriting was crooked and twisted.

"What kind of immortal has Zhou Can become? This is entirely an imagined illusion."

The reason Ren Qing was certain it was imagined was chiefly because Zhou Can's own experiences were like this. He had attended a private school for only a few years, and his imagination was constrained by what he had seen and known, making the scenes within the illusion exceedingly absurd.

It was like two farmers discussing whether the emperor used a golden hoe to farm every day.

Ren Qing walked toward an empty desk. From the corner of his eye, he noticed a familiar figure seated diagonally across from him.

Su Huo wore an ill-fitting white Daoist robe. He looked even more hunched than yesterday, his cheeks sunken, his eyes slightly clouded. He was already at the end of his rope, with the oil in his lamp nearly spent.

When he saw Ren Qing, his eyes filled with astonishment, followed by profound desolation.

His lips moved, but no sound emerged.

Su Huo understood that once he had set foot in the pawnshop, escape was no longer possible. It was only a matter of becoming Zhou Can's nourishment sooner or later, unless he could comprehend the method of becoming immortal.

He would not live to see that day. Gritting his teeth, he called out in a low voice, "Little brother, come."

Ren Qing hesitated for half a breath, then slowly walked past Su Huo.

Su Huo stuffed the rice paper from the desk into Ren Qing's sleeve, then panted heavily as though all his strength had left him.

Without betraying a hint of emotion, Ren Qing sat down. Unfolding the rice paper, he saw it was densely covered in writing. The ink varied in depth, and it had been revised several times. The contents were jumbled and incoherent, but it was indeed Su Huo's handwriting.

"Whew~~"

Zhou Can cleared his throat and began preaching in solemn earnest. "Cultivation should use the five grains as a guide. Yet the Great Dao is formless. It is also said that, if one watches well water on a moonlit night, one can glimpse one's own Primordial Spirit. Then refine a mouthful of true qi and store it beneath the tongue..."

What kind of nonsense was this?

Ren Qing only felt that Zhou Can's words were hammering east and striking west, with no connection between beginning and end. They left listeners lost in the clouds and mist, with very little useful information.

Yet every one of them had their heads lowered, diligently recording his words on paper.

The three beggars who had arrived with Ren Qing had already awakened, though they could only look around in bewilderment.

"You!!!"

Without warning, Zhou Can raised his hand and pointed at one of the three beggars who had come with Ren Qing. His immortal bearing vanished in an instant, replaced by a savage, twisted expression.

"Speak! How do you see your own Primordial Spirit?!!"

The man was already terrified out of his wits. This sudden interrogation made his entire body tremble, and he stammered, "I... I don't know..."

Before his words had even faded, he fell backward onto the ground, unable to let out even a single scream.

The next moment.

With a series of crackling pops, the corpse's bones gradually twisted and deformed, turning into a brand-new desk. Its skin spread flat into a stack of snow-white rice paper. Even its skull split open on its own, becoming an inkstone.

In but a few moments, a complete set of desk, chair, brush, ink, and paper had appeared from thin air inside the temple, identical to the furnishings around it.

The other two were scared out of their souls, but because they could not read or write, they found it difficult even to put brush to paper.

"Your temperament is rather good." Zhou Can swept his gaze over Ren Qing, once more assuming that unfathomable air as he continued, "What use is there in keeping disciples who cannot remember the method of becoming immortal?"

His eyes were faintly bloodshot as he savored everyone's reactions.

"Three Incense Lady taught this master the method of becoming immortal in a dream, then ordered me to teach it to others."

"But do you know what price I paid to attain immortality and realize the Dao?"

"Every last one of you wants to obtain the method of becoming immortal for nothing. If your aptitude is insufficient, then martyr yourselves for the Dao!!"

Ren Qing quickly realized that the Immortal Ascension Sect truly was holding an Immortality Ascension Assembly in Water Mouth City.

Three Incense Lady had likely selected several people in advance and taught them the method of becoming immortal, then ordered them not to keep it to themselves. In the end, suitable disciples would be chosen and admitted into the Immortal Ascension Sect.

Zhou Can and Song Baizhou had likewise gained an early opportunity to become immortal, but their methods of dealing with it were different.

Song Baizhou was more in line with crooked paths and heterodox ways, actively treating his disciples as expendable materials. He was unlike Zhou Can, who deliberately put three parts substance into seven parts water.

If something had not gone wrong during Song Baizhou's process of becoming immortal, his chances of standing out would have been immense.

"This master will continue preaching. The immortal arts will be touched upon in passing. If your comprehension is outstanding, you will naturally gain something from it. Hahaha."

Comparing it against Su Huo's notes, Ren Qing gradually filled in the method of becoming immortal. He could not help recalling the classes at the psychiatric hospital in his previous life. He had unexpectedly found that same atmosphere here, and his expression grew increasingly intrigued.

He immersed himself in it, writing furiously alongside the others.