Detection

Zhang Xuezhou was starting to have second thoughts about going to the Yedie River Holy Land.

He had planned many things, but Zhang Xuezhou never expected that the Spirit Silk Jade Lotus would fail him.

A piece of Spirit Silk Jade Lotus root relieved Zhang Xuezhou from the predicament of his magical Law Power being bound and locked in the Divine Ability Realm, while the Buddha Son Shigong only needed to consume half a piece of Spirit Silk Jade Lotus root to restore his body to normal.

The difference in their respective Realm Technique led to a difference in dosage.

After Zhang Xuezhou enters the Sole Self Realm Sovereignty, his Law Power will be even more abundant, and it will also involve Demon Power. He has already prepared to only recover about 20% to 30% of his original power.

But to his surprise, the Spirit Silk Jade Lotus Root went straight into his stomach without causing any disturbance to his Law Power.

He suspected that the half of the Spirit Silk Jade Lotus Root might have died because it had been cut for too long and hadn't been soaked in water for an extended period.

Without any Technique Method power to use, Zhang Xuezhou couldn't do anything he wanted, let alone use his identity as the Holy Son of Kunlun to create a time difference and take away his reward from the Centennial Gathering.

"It's all over! It's all over!"

Zhang Xuezhou was somewhat skeptical, and he waited for three more days.

But three days later, there was still no reaction in his body.

No matter how much you plan, it's no match for fate. Zhang Xuezhou felt that all his calculations had come to nothing.

With little time remaining before the poor ghost could reach the Yedie River Holy Land, Zhang Xuezhou would find it difficult to exploit the time difference, even if he recovered 20% of his Law Power and Demon Power.

Having put aside that little thought in his mind, Zhang Xuezhou was much more straightforward when giving directions, no longer taking detours.

"This Black Mountain is indeed a place of spiritual essence; it seems this is the Yedie River Holy Land!"

As sunset approached, Zhang Xuezhou led the "ghost of poverty" to the Yedie River Holy Land.

The black mountains seemed unchanged since time immemorial; they looked just as they did when Zhang Xuezhou left more than ten years ago, and they looked just as they did when he returned.

This even includes the fact that the layout of the Yedie River Holy Land has remained unchanged.

If one had to point out any differences, it would only be that some houses were a bit old, while some dilapidated areas had been patched up and replaced.

"Lord Lu, this junior, from the Qiong Clan, has come here on the Emperor's orders. I hope to meet you upon your return!"

As Zhang Xuezhou surveyed the surroundings of the Yedie River Holy Land, the "Sending Away Poverty Ghost" had already begun shouting, his voice echoing throughout the Yedie River Holy Land.

The roar of the ghost of poverty was like thunder, attracting many monks to peek out from their residences, and even red lanterns rose into the air from the palaces of venerable monks to spy on them.

"The decree can be revoked!"

Amidst the high mountains of the Yedie River Holy Land, the Daoist's somewhat helpless voice echoed.

Daojun responded quickly, but his demeanor was cold; he didn't even show his face, nor did he welcome the poor ghost into the Yedie River Holy Land.

This treatment caused the old man's face, which had been filled with poverty, to change color repeatedly.

Although being politely treated wouldn't really benefit the "poverty-sending ghost," this kind of neglect—being ignored without even seeing anyone—left it feeling rather stifled.

He unrolled the bound edict, then tossed it into the air. The edict drifted aimlessly towards the main hall high on the Sacred Mountain.

"Lu Ya, receive the imperial decree firmly!"

The ghost of poverty shouted, watching helplessly as the decree, imbued with his power, flashed in the clouds and then fell into the palace area. It didn't even make a gesture of receiving the decree. A fierce glint flashed in his eyes.

"You are ignoring the Emperor, you are defying his decree! Don't say I didn't warn you, no matter how strong you are, you only have the power of one strike. Once you've used that one strike, you'll be a cripple!"

"Having read it is sufficient. Do you wish for me to hang this decree in the palace for daily worship?"

Daojun's ethereal voice seemed to echo in my ears from afar.

When someone whispered in his ear, a chilling sensation surged through him, and the fierce glint in the eyes of the ghost who sent away poverty turned into terror.

Daojun seemed to be both far away in the Sacred Mountain Palace and right beside him. He even pressed his finger to the center of the forehead of the "Poverty-Sending Ghost," Sha Qi instantly impacted the ghost's body.

The poor ghost felt sweat instantly pour down his forehead; the cultivator's innate sense of danger made him feel a chill run down his spine.

He was always the one who would scare people with his ghostly antics, never imagining he would actually stumble in this area.

"Snort!"

After surveying the surroundings with his eyes, the poor ghost stubbornly snorted, barely maintaining his identity as an envoy of Kunlun, when he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his head.

"Junior should not be disrespectful in front of seniors. Your ugly appearance has offended my eyes. If I were to kill you right now, even Haotian would not dare to say a word when he came to my door!"

The piercing pain in his mind was like swords stabbing into his bones. The poor ghost couldn't keep his balance on the silver treasure bowl and tumbled down.

He fell to the ground and rolled around repeatedly. Only then did the "Poor Ghost" feel the stinging pain lessen. When he touched his forehead, he found that it was only cold and there was nothing else wrong with it.

"You... I've already paid you a polite visit, but you..."

The ghost of poverty pointed forcefully to the palace high in the Sacred Land mountain, then looked around suspiciously.

"Hiss~"

A snickering sound suddenly rang out from somewhere, and the man who had sent away the "poverty ghost" felt utterly humiliated.

Although he didn't see anyone around him, the aura he was facing was undeniably real, and he was certain that it was Dao Jun who was making his move.

Legend has it that the Dao Lord concentrates all his life's beliefs and skills into his flying knife; once the knife is used, life and death are decided. The stronger one is, the more wary one becomes of the Dao Lord.

However, the poor ghost had also heard about Daojun's weakness: Daojun only had the ability to kill with a single strike. After that, his strength would inevitably drop significantly, and for a period of time, he would be no different from an ordinary great cultivator, or even possibly inferior to him.

The rumors and the reality are clearly somewhat different.

The ghost who was supposed to send away poverty hadn't even seen Daojun yet; the treasure-gathering Law Treasure had fallen, and the ghost had rolled around on the ground several times, looking utterly pathetic.

If Daojun wanted to take his life, he probably wouldn't even need to use a flying knife.

Kunlun rightfully took over the management of the Three Realms through the centennial grand gathering, but that was a contest among the younger generation. There were clearly still troublemakers at the top, unlike the Jade Emperor of the Immortal Court who was as cooperative.

He had a smooth journey delivering decrees to the Spirit Mountain and the Immortal Court, but he never expected to encounter such a situation in a second-tier power.

He rolled over and got up, then approached his treasure Law Treasure, which had fallen to the ground.

"You're quite clever; at least you didn't die from the fall!"

Seeing Zhang Xuezhou slowly get up from the ground, and that his injuries didn't seem serious, the poor man breathed a sigh of relief, but still managed to save face and said something.

"Thank you so much for controlling the Law Treasure, Master! The Law Treasure didn't fall very fast from the sky, and I jumped out quickly when I fell, so my body didn't sustain much injury upon landing!"

"That's good!"

The ghost of poverty nodded, and then, from somewhere around them, soft laughter echoed.

He was so embarrassed that he felt he had to hurry and leave before nightfall.

"Do you know the path to the Xieluosi River Holy Land?" asked the Poverty-Sending Ghost.

"The Yedie River and the Xieluosi River correspond to each other, one to the west and one to the east. I heard that you can reach them by simply walking eastward from here," Zhang Xuezhou said.

"Looks like you've never been to the Xieluosi River," said the ghost of poverty.

Zhang Xuezhou neither confirmed nor denied it.

Although Zhang Xuezhou didn't want to follow the Poor Ghost around, he had no magical Law Power or Demon Power left, and he still wanted to send the Poor Ghost back to Chang'an City.

But then he heard Daojun's voice in his ear; it seemed that the lord of the Yedie River Holy Land Sacred Land already recognized him.

Rather than entertaining the "ghost of poverty" and reading out the Emperor's decree, this Daoist priest was clearly more interested in hearing gossip about Zhang Xuezhou.

After being politely informed by the other party, Zhang Xuezhou had no choice but to abandon his plan to lead the way and made up an excuse to stay temporarily in the tents on the outskirts of the Sacred Land to recuperate.