Wangjiao had been bustling lately.
Word had it that an immortal named Jiaze had appeared, and his name was being praised in every street and alley.
The vicious ghosts that had long held sway here would ordinarily come demanding tribute money from them every year.
If refusal did not mean having their sons and daughters eaten, they could count themselves lucky.
But this year, those vicious ghosts had been killed.
For a time, the number of Jiaze's believers soared.
Ultimately, the reason came down to one sentence: "The ordinary people of Wangjiao have suffered under vicious ghosts for far too long."
Usually, no one stood up for them, but now a divine warrior had descended from the heavens.
Naturally, they clung to him like a drowning person clutching at a straw.
For a time, those with money gave money, and those with strength gave their labor.
Building temples, burning incense in worship, sculpting statues of him...
Several powerful ghosts entrenched in western Wangjiao tried to join forces to surround and kill Jiaze.
But after several joint attacks,
either he escaped by a stroke of luck, or they wounded a thousand of the enemy only to lose eight hundred of their own.
Yet after resting for a day or even half a day, Jiaze would be as lively as a dragon and vigorous as a tiger, coming back to settle scores with them.
He did not look seriously injured at all.
At first, Jiaze had been somewhat unaccustomed to spending every day fighting.
But his nature took over, and before long, he was like a fish in water.
As for Li Ping'an, he did exactly as he had said.
He concerned himself with nothing, building the little boat with Old Ox at an unhurried pace.
Soon, before two months had passed,