The moment Shi Dajian finished speaking, the House-Guarding Talisman by the door suddenly flashed.
His eyes snapped open, and he sprang up from the floor.
A gust of chilling wind poured through the crack in the door, stronger than before, making the living room chandelier sway.
Zhao Qi screamed, huddled on the sofa. Her mother pulled her into her arms and shrank back, while her father staggered back two steps and struck the wall.
Shi Dajian strode to the entryway, formed a hand seal with his right hand, and gathered a streak of lightning in his palm.
The door burst open from outside.
Lin Feng stood in the doorway.
He was much more solid than before. The gray-black aura around him had grown considerably denser, his form was whole, and his features were distinct. Only his face remained bloodlessly pale, and his eyes were a deep, dark red.
His injuries had completely healed, leaving no trace.
Shi Dajian punched without hesitation.
Lightning shot from his hand and struck Lin Feng square in the chest.
Lin Feng stood in the doorway without dodging.
The lightning hit him, crackled, and dispersed.
Lin Feng lowered his head to examine his chest. It had not left so much as a mark.
Shi Dajian froze.
"How is that possible?"
Even his voice changed pitch. The Lightning Thunderclap Fist was his trump card. He had practiced it for twenty years, and it had never failed him.
Thunder Arts naturally countered evil spirits. Even a centuries-old ghost would have been driven back three steps by that punch.
Yet this wronged spirit, dead for only a few days, had taken the blow head-on.
Lin Feng looked at him and spoke, his voice hoarse but steady.
"What's impossible about it? Can't I get help too?"
Before Shi Dajian could