Retirement begins with summoning Yuan Tiangang

That thing has no physical form.

At least, Lin Feng's eyes didn't see anything.

He saw only a thick, viscous darkness, darker than the night itself, like ink spilled on the ground, or like spreading shadows, seeping in through the cracks in the door and the fissures in the ground, slowly wriggling and gathering under the faint starlight at the doorway.

It had no shape, no features, only a pure, nauseating malice, like a cold tide that instantly engulfed the entire dilapidated temple upon its appearance.

The air became thick and sticky, making it difficult to breathe.

The chill didn't seep in from the outside, but rather seeped out from between the bones, carrying a damp, musty smell, as if it had been rotting for centuries.

Giggle...

The laughter became clearer.

It came from that writhing darkness.

The sound was sharp and ethereal, carrying both the innocence of a child and the resentment of an old woman. These two completely different feelings blended together to create a strange, scalp-chilling sound.

Li Qianqian finally couldn't hold back anymore, sob!

She burst into tears, the sound suppressed in her throat, turning into broken sobs.

She clung tightly to Lin Feng's arm, her nails almost digging into his flesh.

Zhang Kai suddenly stood up, took a step to the side, and blocked Lin Feng and Li Qianqian's path. He pointed the wooden stick in his hand at the darkness at the doorway, and the muscles in his arm were taut like stone.

Zhao Mingxuan also stood up, his face as pale as paper, but his back was straight, and his right hand quietly reached into his clothes—there, it seemed, there was something hard hidden.

Only Chen Jing'an remained seated, her face tilted back, gazing into the darkness. In her empty eyes, doubt grew stronger, as if she were trying to discern a vague memory.

Mo Wen stood at the very front, his back to the children, motionless.

The hand resting on his waist didn't move.

"What is causing this?"

Mo Wen spoke, his voice not loud, yet it carried a peculiar penetrating power, as if it could pierce through the thick air, echoing in the deathly silent, dilapidated temple.

The laughter stopped.

The writhing darkness seemed to pause for a moment.

Then, a voice rang out.

It didn't emanate from the darkness, but resounded directly in everyone's mind—sharp, elusive, androgynous, carrying a mocking malice:

"I'm so hungry..."

"Fresh...blood and energy..."

"Kids... taste the best..."

The sound drilled into my ears like cold needles, pricking my brain and causing a sharp pain.

Li Qianqian trembled even more violently, her teeth clenched tightly, while Zhao Mingxuan's forehead was covered in beads of cold sweat.

Lin Feng also felt a buzzing in his head, a tightness in his chest, and waves of nausea.

He gripped the jade pendant tightly. The pendant seemed hotter than usual, and a warm current flowed from it, spreading along his chest and barely resisting the chilling heat.

Mo Wen remained still, but the thumb of his hand, which was pressed against his waist, gently pried open a corner of the cloth wrapping.

A faint glimmer of dark, gloomy light, seemingly capable of absorbing all light, leaked out.

"This is not a place for you to stay."

Mo Wen's voice remained calm, devoid of emotion, "Retreat, and you may live."

"Hehehe..." The laughter echoed in my mind again, tinged with mockery.

"Old man... you've lost your vitality... you don't taste good..."

"But...that's interesting..."

That darkness began to slowly creep forward.

Wherever it passed, it left faint, damp marks on the ground, like snails crawling, and emitted an even stronger smell of decay.

Its direction of progress is not towards Mo Wen, but rather... the children.

To be precise, it was Chen Jing'an.

The darkness seemed particularly interested in Chen Jing'an, its movements quickening as it flowed directly toward him.

Chen Jing'an remained seated, her face tilted back, watching the darkness draw ever closer. In her empty eyes, doubt was gradually replaced by an almost focused expression.

He tilted his head and his lips moved as if he wanted to say something.

"Jing'an! Get out of the way!" Lin Feng shouted anxiously, trying to rush over and pull him away, but Zhang Kai held him down tightly.

Mo Wen finally moved.

Instead of moving forward, he took a step to the left, blocking the darkness between himself and Chen Jing'an.

He raised his right hand, the cloth slipped off, revealing the weapon inside.

It's not a ruler.

It was a short sword that was entirely black and had no sheath.

The sword was only a little over a foot long and two fingers wide. The blade was dull, yet it seemed capable of cutting through the darkness.

The hilt of the sword was wrapped with old, dark red silk thread, and a small, faded copper bell was attached to the end.

The moment the sword appeared, the air in the temple seemed to freeze for a moment.

The writhing darkness also stopped.

Although it had no facial features, Lin Feng could sense that it was "staring" at the black sword.

"Soul Guardian..."

The voice in his mind rang out again, its high-pitched tone now tinged with seriousness, "You are... a Confucian gentleman?"

Mo Wen didn't answer, but simply flipped his wrist, and the black sword pointed diagonally at the ground.

The tip of the sword trembled slightly, and the small copper bell emitted a very soft "ding," crisp and melodious, yet it exploded like thunder in the deathly silent, dilapidated temple.

"bite……"

The sound wasn't loud, but it seemed to carry some strange power.

Lin Feng felt the sharp pain in his head instantly lessen after the ringing of the bell.

The warm current flowing from the jade pendant on her chest also became smoother.

The darkness, however, began to ripple violently, like snow being splashed with boiling water, making a hissing sound as if something was being corroded.

"ah--!"

A scream suddenly rang in my mind, sharp and piercing, filled with pain and anger.

The darkness suddenly receded, instantly retreating to the doorway.

The wriggling motion was unstable, the edges became blurred, as if it might fall apart at any moment.

"You...meddle in other people's business!" The voice was venomous.

"Wait...wait...hehehe..."

The laughter and the sounds quickly faded into the distance.

The darkness receded like the receding tide, shrinking back through the crack in the door and disappearing into the night outside.

Silence returned to the dilapidated temple.

Only the bronze bell was still trembling slightly, emitting a barely audible echo.

Ding……

Ding……

Mo Wen slowly lowered his arm, the black sword still pointing diagonally at the ground.

He stood still, not turning around immediately, but listening intently for a while to make sure the thing had really left before turning around.

The fire had long since died out, and only starlight leaked through the broken roof, barely illuminating the outline of his face.

It was still that ordinary, wrinkled face, but now, the gentleness in his eyes was gone, replaced by a deep, unfathomable stillness...

"It's alright," he said, his voice a little hoarse.

The children remained frozen in place, neither moving nor speaking.

What they just witnessed was beyond their comprehension.

What is that? A ghost? A monster? And what is Uncle Mo's black sword? A Confucian gentleman's sword? A soul-suppressing sword?

Too many questions are stuck in my chest, but I can't utter a single word.

Li Qianqian finally let go of Lin Feng's arm, slumped to the ground, and began to cry softly and suppressively.

Zhang Kai still held the wooden stick, his arm trembling slightly.

Zhao Mingxuan released his hand from his chest; his palms were sweaty, and his face remained deathly pale.

Lin Feng looked at Mo Wen, then at Chen Jing'an.

Chen Jing'an remained in that position, her face tilted back, looking towards the doorway, the focused expression still lingering in her vacant eyes.

His lips moved again, and this time, Lin Feng vaguely heard a few words:

"...A familiar...smell..."

The sound was very soft, so soft it was almost an illusion.

Mo Wen walked to the fire, squatted down, took out a tinderbox from his pocket, and relit a few dry branches.

The orange flames leaped up again, dispelling some of the darkness, as well as the lingering chill and fear.

"Pack up, it's almost dawn."

Mo Wen's voice returned to its usual calm.

"Let's take a short break and set off at Chenshi (7-9 AM)."

He said no more and offered no explanation. He simply sat by the fire, wrapped the black sword in cloth again, and tucked it back into his waistband.

Then she closed her eyes, as if she were about to rest again.

The children looked at each other, and then silently lay back down on the tarpaulin.

But who can still sleep?

Lin Feng stared at the leaping flames, his mind a jumbled mess.

That scene was branded into his memory like a hot iron.

That writhing darkness, that eerie laughter, Uncle Mo's black sword, the sound of the copper bell, and Chen Jing'an's familiar words...

All of this points to a world he has never encountered or even imagined.

It turns out that the outside world is not just about bustling cities, towering academies, and vast mountains and rivers.

And...these too.

He touched the jade pendant on his chest. The jade pendant was still warm and smooth, but Lin Feng had a feeling that just now, the jade pendant seemed to... be more than just warm.

When Uncle Mo's copper bell rang, the jade pendant seemed to tremble slightly as well.

Is it just my imagination?

He turned his head and looked at Chen Jing'an beside him.

Chen Jing'an had already lay down again, facing out of the hall, her eyes closed, her breathing steady, as if she were asleep.

In the firelight, his delicate and serene face showed no sign of anything amiss.

But in Lin Feng's heart, a seed had been planted.

Jing'an's younger brother... what exactly does he know?

And there's also Uncle Mo...

He looked at the gray-robed old man resting with his eyes closed by the fire.

At this moment, Mo Wen returned to his ordinary, even somewhat inconspicuous, appearance, as if the person who had just wielded a black sword and driven away the eerie shadow with a soft bell was not him at all.

What is a Confucian gentleman?

What is "Guardian Soul"?

Lin Feng couldn't understand it.

All he knew was that this long journey was completely different from what he had imagined.

The sky outside the window gradually turned grayish-white.

The long, thrilling night is finally coming to an end.

But the road ahead seemed even more shrouded in mist than the night in this dilapidated temple.

The fire crackled and popped.

A new day is about to begin.