Cultivation of Immortality: This is what unorthodox methods are like.

Bald Pu didn't bother with pleasantries and immediately showed the cursed cultivator his substitution technique, examining his chest cavity.

The cursed monk snapped his fingers, and something ghostly transformed into a mirror, reflecting light repeatedly.

After a moment, the cursed cultivator frowned: "Your substitution technique is based on the analysis of the Myriad Scrolls of Daoist Scripture."

"This is the highest-end version!"

"Even a cultivator who has mastered 20,000 volumes of Daoist scriptures would interpret your substitution technique in the same way!"

"However, the other party's curse clearly surpasses your substitution spell."

"Based on the spell within your chest, it can be deduced that the opponent used a curse called 'Seven Days to Kill'."

"This spell is bizarre: it first shoots away the heart, liver, spleen, and lungs, then it shoots away the brain and soul."

"When the seven days are up, the victim will surely be annihilated."

"But even the lowest-level version of the curse, 'Seven Days to Die,' can't escape your substitution spell!"

"I suspect that the one who attacked you was a Foundation Establishment cultivator."

Bald Puzhao frowned: "Foundation Establishment cultivators? Didn't they all go to establish new lower courtyards?"

"Even those who didn't go won't stay in this poor, remote place!"

"Could it be that a Foundation Establishment cultivator returned to visit relatives, saw that I was raising pets abnormally, and therefore took the opportunity to punish me?"

"Or... other organizations or individuals that are breeding and researching abnormalities to target me?"

Bald Puzhao was a little confused. After a moment, he took a deep breath: "Don't think too much. First, figure out a way to remove the curse from me."

The cursed cultivator nodded: "Find forty-nine innate martial artists and buy out everything they own."

"Then, I have a way to handle it."

Bald Puzhao laughed: "That's easy!"

He also kept some innate martial artists. Although the number was not large, he could still manage to get forty or fifty.

Within a quarter of an hour, fifty innate martial artists arrived; the extra one was there as a backup in case of emergency.

The substitute innate martial artist was quite dissatisfied: "Master, my blood, muscles and bones, and even my spirit are more vigorous and stronger than theirs."

"Why not choose me to die in your place?"

Bald Puzhao reassured him, "You've improved so quickly. If you continue to cultivate diligently, you'll fetch an even higher price when you die for me in the future."

The substitute innate martial artist finally calmed down somewhat, expressing his dissatisfaction and doubt: "Thank you for your kindness, sir!"

"But sir, I'm currently facing some financial difficulties. I wonder if you could lend me some more money?"

"I will use this money to raise my descendants, so that they too can become innate martial artists, and then die in place of the master."

Bald Pu Zhao patted him on the shoulder, looking relieved: "No problem!"

"If you don't die later, go to the accounting office and borrow 100,000 Qingfu."

"Then you should properly train your descendants to work for me."

The innate martial artist was moved to tears, but secretly sneered, "It's because I lent you so much money that you made me your substitute!"

"Otherwise, I would have been dead long ago!"

"I've already used your money to train seven or eight descendants of innate martial artists; they've all spread out and established their own families!"

"Then, just like me, they'll continue to fleece their master."

"One day, my family will transform into a family of cultivators!"

Bald Puzhao, unaware of the substitute's intentions, secretly gloated: "These guys borrowed money to become innate martial artists themselves, and then willingly sold themselves to me!"

"This way, I can save a lot of resources and energy!"

The two looked at each other, one expressing gratitude, the other showing generosity; master and servant were in harmony.

The cursed cultivator standing nearby sighed with emotion, "This deep bond between master and servant reminds me of the past!"

"Back then, I was just a child..."

Bald Puzhao growled, "Fellow Daoist, save me first, okay?"

The cursed cultivator sighed, "Good!"

After a short while, he ordered people to set up an incense table and prepare sacrificial offerings such as command flags, long banners, lambs, and doves.

With everything prepared, the cursed monk suddenly flicked his sleeve:

boom!

The smoke exploded, and after it dissipated, the ghosts surrounding the cursed cultivator transformed into palm-sized demons.

They played instruments, sang, and danced, as if they were protecting the most honored person in the world.

The cursed monk drew his greatsword, lit sandalwood incense, and went up on stage to perform a ritual.

Ee-yah-yah!

twitter!

He performed a shamanistic ritual, chanting strange incantations, and finally, he scattered his hair and grabbed a command flag, shaking it vigorously.

call!call!

A strange wind blew across the bald man's face.

The wind blew in through his 108,000 pores, carrying something out of his mouth and nose.

A command flag was thrown to the ground, and the sacrificial offerings were burned.

After the last command flag was thrown to the ground, the cursed monk swung his greatsword and slashed forward a few times.

Click!Click!

Cracks appeared in the air, from which black blood flowed.

Black blood flowed in seven pools, and black smoke rose from the ground with a hissing sound.

The black smoke entered the nostrils of forty-nine innate martial artists.

Before long, these warriors wailed and turned into a pile of ashes scattered on the ground.

"It's done!" The cursed monk threw away his greatsword and smiled. "Come on, put the heart back in."

Bald man with a bright smile: "Are you sure?"

"Sure!"

"And definitely!"

call!

Bald Puzhao breathed a sigh of relief. He pried open his chest, threw out the rotten heart, and then installed a new heart.

boom! boom! boom!

Heartbeat.

Bald man Pu Zhao grinned smugly, "No problem!"

"nailed it!"

"Ha ha!"

"Those who schemed against me are nothing special!"

He was pleased and ordered his servants to clean up the ashes scattered by the forty-nine warriors.

As a result, the cursed monk waved his sleeve and swept away the ashes: "I'll take care of this trash for you!"

Bald Puzhao's mouth twitched; the ashes of the dead were top-quality materials.

When did it become garbage?

However, considering that the other party helped him remove the curse, he stopped worrying about it.

Snapped!Snapped!Snapped!

The bald man clapped his hands, and a woman entered, saying sweetly, "Master, what are your orders?"

The bald man smiled broadly: "Give me a grand feast!"

"Also, bring over a few unusual animals to liven things up!"

"Yes, sir!"

The woman withdrew, and soon after, many spirits such as rabbits, foxes, snakes, and butterflies came singing and dancing, bringing fine wine and delicacies.

The cursed monk exerted all his strength to restrain his power, preventing it from contaminating the fine wine and spoiling the delicacies.

"Excellent wine!"

"Delicious food!"

"What a beautiful rabbit spirit!"

"Come on, sit on your brother's lap and let him feel just how soft a rabbit's tail is."

The rabbit spirit grinned, and the cursed cultivator gasped, "That mouth is interesting!"

At that moment, the sound of chains clanging rang out.

He looked up and saw a group of people leading several unusual animals over.

These extraordinary features—graceful figure, alluring eyes, every smile and frown—are captivating.

Someone handed him a stick, and when he came to his senses, he realized that he was gripping a whip tightly.

Bald Puzhao clapped his hands: "What are you all standing there for? Hurry up and start singing and dancing to make my benefactor happy!"

She gave an unusually sweet, cold laugh: "Pah! Don't even think about it!"

"I belong to the extraordinary race, and will never be enslaved!"

Snapped!

The cursed monk picked up his stick and lashed it at the anomaly.

This anomaly was immediately whipped so hard it made him roll on the ground, weeping bitterly.

"Stop hitting me, I'll be good!"

"I can sing, and I can dance!"

The cursed monk laughed heartily: "These things are interesting!"

"Bro, can I play with it for a few days?"

Bald Puzhao nodded and smiled, and just as he opened his mouth to say, "Okay."

As a result, when he opened his mouth, he spat out a mouthful of hot blood.