"You don't think all this chaos was caused by these Underworld Uncanny, do you?"
"You don't think catching these Coal Spirits will let you rest easy, do you?"
"You don't think you can stay in Mazu's temple just because you caught these Coal Spirits, do you?"
"I don't know why you're so determined to catch the Coal Spirits, but once you do, you'll definitely draw out the real mastermind. I saw the ticket for the Lucky Friday on you. If I were you, I'd take that ticket and head out to sea immediately."
"Oh, why are you so stubborn? What do you mean, the ticket doesn't have a departure time? Why would you assume the ship you're taking is a normal ship?"
"It doesn't matter if the ship isn't normal. With me helping you, nothing will happen to you. Please, just go. Don't stay here."
"Take this with you, and you'll be fine."
"Fukou already has enough trouble. Don't make things even harder for it."
"Run while you can."
The Young Shrine Attendant pleaded earnestly, showing him every consideration—as though seeing off a god of pestilence.
Holding a roast goose, Lin Feng squatted at a distant street corner and watched the city gate, waiting for the Black-Faced Daoist to enter his urn.
Around his neck hung a Peace Talisman the Young Shrine Attendant had personally given him.
Behind him, the coppersmiths stoked their fires. Molten copper filled their specially made ladles.
They were waiting.
Lin Feng was waiting too.
He had even planned his route. Once he sealed those things away, he would leave Fukou.
He absolutely could not linger.
This was six hours later outside the game. The last time he had sealed this thing away, he hadn't left Fukou, and when night came, even the Heavenly Consort Temple