Yin Money

As Lin Feng sprinted, his shoulder kept bumping into the guide's stomach. Under this "torture," the guide finally threw up!

But that was fine.

Once he finished throwing up, they kept going.

Even carrying a man, Lin Feng ran like the wind.

Dragon-Tiger Qi temporarily sheltered the guide.

Lin Feng moved as though aided by the gods.

Hundred-Household Officer Zhu struggled to keep up behind him.

Lin Feng's physical abilities had improved by more than a little. Beyond that, [Mountain God’s Blessing] and [Mountain God’s Power] had their uses. One opened the Western Hunan Mountains to him during Qi Gathering, letting him achieve twice the results with half the effort.

The Mountain God’s Power that Lin Feng had overlooked also played a major role.

He was gradually uncovering the uses of [Mountain God’s Power]. It temporarily granted him a portion of a Mountain God's authority. That authority did more than make him stronger and sharpen his senses here. Those were the traits of a hunter, not a Mountain God.

Unfortunately, Lin Feng had yet to discover its wondrous uses.

This time, Lin Feng did not take the narrow trails.

He had no idea how the uncle from the Ghost Yamen had set his sights on him.

Was it because he had strayed from the main road, ventured into the forest, and been spotted?

Or was there something about him that greatly interested the uncle?

Lin Feng had not forgotten what that towering figure had said: refine him.

The word "refine" could mean refining and absorbing something.

It could also mean making elixirs.

In any case, Lin Feng had heard of one sinister method of refining humans into elixirs, which had been particularly infamous during the Qing dynasty.

He had shared it with his viewers as an anecdote, playing it up for entertainment on his livestream.

A platform moderator had warned him for it.

If the Ghost Yamen really did have some special elixir recipe and intended to refine him into a human elixir...

That was not impossible.

What had they taken a fancy to in Lin Feng?

Surely not just his flesh and skin?

There had to be something special about him, right?

As they raced onward, the downpour arrived right on cue.

There were occasional gaps in the trees along the main road. Looking up through them, Lin Feng saw what seemed to be something moving within the thunderclouds overhead. It vanished in an instant.

Then silver serpents of lightning danced wildly.

The jostling had nearly knocked the breath out of the guide.

But sensing the approaching rain, and especially after glancing up at the sky, he muttered, "Black Pig Crossing the River," and swallowed even his groans.

He still did not know that he had already died many times.

Yet his will to survive was truly touching!

Although Lin Feng had questions for the guide, he kept silent when he heard the rolling thunder.

They pressed on.

Through gritted teeth, the guide told them to head for the Resting Corpse Inn!

Lin Feng asked no further questions. He could clearly tell that the guide feared "Black Pig Crossing the River" more than the "Resting Corpse Inn."

Black Pig Crossing the River was a weather phenomenon.

Severe convective weather.

Just as Lin Feng spotted the Resting Corpse Inn and thought the Ghost Yamen would not be taking anyone this time, operatic singing rang out.

Eerie shadows emerged from the depths of the forest, calling, "My lord! My lord!" Their voices sounded much like Lin Feng's when he shamelessly coaxed viewers into buying captain memberships.

The guide's face was turning almost green.

"The Ghost Yamen."

"Ignore them."

As Lin Feng spoke, he glanced at Hundred-Household Officer Zhu and found him perfectly composed.

"You're not scared?"

Lin Feng could not help asking.

Hundred-Household Officer Zhu replied gravely, "You jest, my lord. Back in QY and LZ, rough men like us saw things stranger than this.

"When we followed the Prince of Zhongshan into battle against Wang Baobao on the Yellow River, we saw monstrous fish bigger than boats, strange folk in the barren mountains, and the river god in the Yellow River. Who knows how many of our brothers it ate? The men who came back with Young Master Mu saw even more.

"Over there, the Prince of Zhongshan flew into a rage and rounded up a crowd of lamas, monks, Daoist priests, shamans, and witches. Either they killed the beast in the river, or he would kill them as offerings to the river god. He told them to choose.

"Those shamans and witches slaughtered a few oxen by the Yellow River, threw in some pigs and sheep, and chanted scriptures. After that, the matter was settled."

Lin Feng shut his mouth.

He had been naive.

In a world like this, monsters appearing in the Central Plains during the late Yuan and early Ming dynasties was perfectly normal.

Still, from the sound of it, Hundred-Household Officer Zhu truly had an impressive combat record.

At the very least, he had served in Xu Da's army, fought Wang Baobao in the northwest, and survived.

That was no easy feat.

The Hundred-Battle Veteran assessment had been spot-on.

"A true warrior."

As Lin Feng spoke, he glanced at the weak-kneed guide, tucked him under one arm, and walked into the Resting Corpse Inn.

"Let's shelter from the rain first."

Thunder rumbled without pause, and rain began falling from the sky.

The Resting Corpse Inn still reeked of rot. The Three Baleful Corpses were still there, and they glanced at the three men.

That feeling of being watched.

Lin Feng cast a disdainful glance at the Three Baleful Corpses, loosened up, and broke apart a rotten wooden table to use as projectiles.

"I'll take two, you take one. Hold yours off. Once I kill the two nastiest ones, I'll come help you."

Intent on striking first, Lin Feng fearlessly pointed at the Three Baleful Corpses and discussed tactics right in front of them.

They would have to fight anyway, and apologizing would do no good. Better to kill these three first, clear out the occupants, and take their seats themselves.

A fighting man had one advantage.

He did not ask many questions.

He did not ask why.

Perhaps Hundred-Household Officer Zhu assumed that Lord Lin, being from the Celestial Master's Mansion on Dragon-Tiger Mountain, simply could not tolerate these illicit shrines and evil rites.

In any event, Hundred-Household Officer Zhu could hardly be considered a good man himself.

Spitting into his palm, Hundred-Household Officer Zhu drew his blade with practiced ease. The baleful aura spreading from him startled the already half-dead guide.

The guide lunged over, grabbed Lin Feng's arm, and shouted in a tearful voice, "You mustn't, my good Daoist master! You mustn't!"

"Why not? They want our lives. Why can't we take theirs?"

Lin Feng asked.

"There's no need! We just have to pay a toll. There's no need!"

The guide spoke with utter conviction, gesturing at heaven and earth, all but ready to swear an oath on the spot.

Swish.

Lin Feng sheathed his sword. Why hadn't he said so sooner? A toll? What sort of toll?

The guide willingly began taking things out. Lin Feng watched him. Truth be told, he knew what the guide carried better than the guide himself did.

After all, he had already searched his corpse once.

First, the guide took out some dry rations, broke them into pieces, and placed them in the bowl before Grandpa A-Qing. He cut his hand with a small knife and let the blood drip inside, then lifted the chipped bowl with both hands and sang something unintelligible.

After singing, he tossed the bloodied rations aside and poured water from his waterskin. He sang another passage, then carried the water in a circle around Grandpa A-Qing before pouring it onto the ground.

It looked somewhat like a toast offered among the living.

Next, he went over to Granny Ayi.

He pulled his sachet open a little, put the dried medicinal herbs inside it into a bowl, lit them, and blew out the flame. Then he used wet grass to produce thick smoke.

Lifting the bowl, he blew the thick smoke toward Granny Ayi's nostrils.

Granny Ayi inhaled.

The guide let out another long breath. Finally, he looked at Lin Feng and said, "Daoist master, give us a piece of Yin Money to send away the Mother-and-Child Goddess's baleful aura."

Without a shred of mercy, Lin Feng shook his hands.

After all that talk, they still had to fight.

Yin Money? What Yin Money? Yin what money?

He had no spirit money on him, only a sword, dry rations, a sachet, and a waterskin.

It seemed the guide had misunderstood one thing.

He was not a proper Daoist priest.