A bell rang on this side.
Over on the other side, the Daoist acolyte Yaoguang hurriedly set the Life-Gathering Weighing Weight at his feet.
The weight was the size of a fist and as light as a feather.
Its surface was blue-black and uneven. A closer look revealed relief carvings of countless struggling human faces.
The weight's cord was dark red and reeked of blood, with several stark-white throat bones embedded in its knots.
The instant the Life-Gathering Weighing Weight touched the ground, eight large characters branded themselves into the earth: "Weigh lives and take years-fair to young and old!"
An invisible pressure enveloped the entire market. Everyone felt their legs weaken and their heads grow dizzy.
Every person's life origin was being... weighed.
At the same time, the Daoist acolyte Lingguang lit the Corpse-Oil Lamp.
The lamp was only palm-sized. Its bowl was the gray-white skull of someone who had died an unjust death, filled with murky, greenish grease.
Its wick was a tangled lock of human hair. As it burned, the heart of the flame glowed blue-green and swayed without wind, occasionally crackling with sounds like crying and laughter.
Once the Corpse-Oil Lamp was lit, wisps of blue smoke released an intoxicating fragrance that drifted across the entire market on the wind.
The people who had been panicking, trembling with cold, and feeling muddleheaded no longer felt tense or uncomfortable after smelling the fragrance.
Instead, smiles appeared on their faces, and they lay down where they stood, drifting into sleep.
When all the thousands of people in the market had fallen to the ground, Old Daoist Sun rose from beside the Elixir Furnace with a savage grin.
How could the art of immortality be such an inconvenient thing?
Drawing life origin only through money was merely a means