Wen Ning flew leisurely above the woods.
He was in no hurry. As he flew, he muttered inwardly, Serves you right to spend your whole life as a minor land god.
He was mentally grumbling about that Land God. The fellow had no sense at all. A family with so much merit lived in his jurisdiction, yet he had never thought to look after them.
The Chen couple had spent their lives teaching in Linhe Village. After thirty or forty years, their students were everywhere. That built up merit a lot faster than sitting in a temple feeding on incense offerings.
If he had made even a little effort—appearing in their dreams with a warning during the holidays, or intervening when Huang San set his sights on their family—that weasel would never have gotten the chance to crouch by the roadside and nearly swindle their daughter out of her merit.
The more he thought about it, the more unreliable that Land God seemed.
Forget it. Why bother getting worked up over a minor land god?
Wen Ning put the matter out of his mind, gathered his attention, and looked down.
He had already reached the stretch of woods the Land God had mentioned.
The woods were even denser than they had looked from a distance, their interior dark and gloomy.
But the most unsettling thing was neither the darkness nor the smell.
It was the demonic aura.
Hovering in midair, Wen Ning looked down at the grove of pagoda trees beneath him and frowned.
Ordinary people could neither smell nor see demonic aura, but to someone whose spiritual sight had been opened, it was mass after mass of black mist billowing upward.
"Well, damn."
Wen Ning spoke to himself.
"He's turned this whole forest into his lair."
He gauged the