My words have become law; I truly have no desire to display my divine power before others.

He took a step forward and walked to the very front of the riverbank, his green robe fluttering even without wind.

The voice was not loud, yet it carried a strange, serene power that penetrated the realms of yin and yang, clearly reaching the ears of every weeping soul:

"All beings suffer, but the dead are especially tragic. Drowning in rivers and streams, their souls are trapped in the water, unable to escape; this is truly the deepest sorrow."

He turned around, facing all the villagers and the surging river, his expression solemn and dignified:

"Today the evil has been eliminated and the injustice has been redressed. You dear relatives, who have suffered resentment for a hundred years, your obsession is hard to let go."

"Though I lack the power to move mountains and overturn seas, I am deeply moved by your sincere grief. I wish to use my meager spiritual cultivation, with the help of the righteous energy of heaven and earth, and with your pure intentions, to attempt a method of salvation."

"Please, everyone, stop your grief for now. Keep the face of the deceased in your hearts, silently recite their name, and contemplate their peaceful liberation and rebirth in the Pure Land."

"A single pure thought of yours is a vessel to ferry souls across; a single sincere thought can become a guiding light."

Upon hearing this, the villagers grasped at the last straw and hurriedly tried to hold back their sobs.

Following Ye Qingfeng's instructions, close your eyes and begin to silently call out the names of your deceased loved ones in your heart, imagining how they would be freed.

Even Li Laoshuan and Zhou Shi held Xiaolian tightly, praying in their hearts for those unfortunate girls who had never met them but shared the same plight.

On the riverbank, only suppressed sobs and the sound of the rushing river remained.

Ye Qingfeng sensed that everyone's faith had reached its peak, and he no longer hesitated.

He slowly formed a simple, ancient hand seal in front of his chest, with a barely perceptible light of pale gold and light blue flowing from his fingertips.

He faced the great river, and his voice suddenly became ethereal and distant.

As if descending from the highest heavens, yet echoing along the edge of the deepest hell, each word strikes the deepest recesses of the human heart and the obsessions of the departed souls:

"Heaven and earth are boundless, yet the universe is orderly. Guided by the sincere thoughts of all beings, and propelled by the pure water of this place—"

His hand gestures changed, pointing to the rushing river, then to the sky, and finally slowly extended horizontally, as if to soothe the unseen:

"Wandering souls of the four directions, drowned spirits of the wronged, heed my command:"

"Obsessions can be released, and grudges can be dissolved. This river is now clear; there are no more ties."

"Using water as a bridge, and thoughts as light,"

"Oh, my soul—"

His eyes shone brightly, not illuminating external objects.

Instead, it seemed to reflect a faint gray-black resentment and wisps of bewildered lingering thoughts that were invisible to ordinary people, hovering over the river.

With the support of his supernatural powers, his perception was amplified to an infinite degree, and he truly "saw" those illusory shadows of pain.

He uttered his final, and most powerful, declaration:

"—Return! Relief! Passing Away!"

"Soul-pacifying and deliver the spirit, swiftly!"

As he uttered the last word "疾" (swiftly), Ye Qingfeng pointed his fingers like a sword and made a vague slash across the river!

There were no earth-shattering phenomena, no dazzling explosions.

However, at that moment, all the villagers who were praying with their eyes closed felt a sudden tremor in their hearts.

It was as if I heard a faint, almost imperceptible, gentle echo, like a sigh or a sigh of relief.

Suddenly, a hazy, warm, milky-white halo rose above the river.

Like the morning mist of early winter, it gently enveloped the entire river surface.

Within the halo, countless tiny, shimmering pale golden specks could be faintly seen.

Like fireflies on a summer night, or like the light of tears of liberation, they slowly emerge from the river and rise upwards.

At the same time, a cool and gentle breeze, as if it could cleanse the soul, arrived.

It came from nowhere, brushing across the riverbank and onto everyone's face.

The wind seemed to carry a faint, fresh scent, like grass and water lilies after rain, dispelling the last trace of fishy stench and gloom.

In a daze, several villagers seemed to see the familiar yet blurry outline of a girl in the rising specks of light.

It gave them a long-lost, peaceful smile, which then gradually dissipated into the milky white halo and the breeze.

On the riverbank, many people were once again moved to tears, but this time the tears were not purely of sadness and regret, but rather a mixture of relief, comfort, and deep gratitude.

Ye Qingfeng slowly lowered his hand.

This "soul-pacifying and guiding" ritual does not actually send the deceased's soul into reincarnation; it merely purifies the beings in the river.

Because he had just tried to sense it, and there were only a few remnants of a soul left in the river.

The truly complete soul has long since vanished.

Although it is unknown why he did not go to the underworld to be reincarnated, with his current abilities, it is clear that he is unable to restore a complete soul from the remnant soul.

Unless more people come to believe him!

He watched the milky white halo gradually dissipate and the drifting light spots, remaining silent in his heart.

Then he turned around and nodded slightly to the villagers, who were still immersed in complex emotions:

"Dust to dust, ashes to ashes. Your wishes have been fulfilled, and the departed have found peace. From now on, treat the living well, remember the lessons, and do not let today go to waste."

Having said that, he didn't linger, ignoring the even more sincere sounds of gratitude and kowtows that rose behind him again. His green robe fluttered as he calmly walked out of the village.

Hello.

......

Ye Qingfeng walked on the soft grass, along the dirt road leading out of the village.

The hem of his bluish-gray Taoist robe fluttered slightly, and his silhouette appeared somewhat sparse in the sunlight.

Suddenly, a series of hurried and heavy footsteps came from behind, accompanied by heavy breathing.

"Master! Master! Please wait!"

Ye Qingfeng stopped and slowly turned around.

The person who arrived was Wang Dashan. He was covered in sweat, and his face was flushed with excitement and a hint of reluctance.

"Benefactor Wang, is there anything else?" Ye Qingfeng asked gently, his gaze calm.

Wang Dashan stopped a few steps in front of Ye Qingfeng, wiped his sweat haphazardly with his sleeve, calmed his breathing, and then bowed respectfully.

Only then did he look up, his eyes filled with reverence and earnestness: "Master, are you... are you leaving already?"

"Yes, a wanderer departs when his fate is exhausted." Ye Qingfeng nodded.

Wang Dashan's face showed obvious disappointment, but he also knew that such a divine figure could not be kept in the shallow waters of Xiahe Village.

He rubbed his rough hands together, hesitated for a moment, and then mustered up the courage to ask.

"We, the entire Xiahe Village, will never forget the great kindness and virtue of the Taoist priest in saving our lives, our village, and helping the souls of the deceased."

But... but I dare to ask, from which temple does the Daoist priest's carriage originate? Does he/she have... does he/she have a Daoist or Taoist name?

If the opportunity arises in the future, we will also offer a longevity tablet to the Taoist priest and pray for his well-being day and night, to repay even a fraction of his kindness.

Taoist name? Baoguan?

Ye Qingfeng was slightly taken aback upon hearing this.

He's a time traveler who wanders the world with a Taoist robe he picked up and some inexplicable ability. Where would he get a proper Taoist name and lineage?

The Tushita Palace? The Jade Void Palace? Those are from novels from my past life.

Longhu Mountain? Maoshan Mountain? They may not exist in this world, and even if they do, they may not match.

He looked into Wang Dashan's incredibly sincere, even somewhat apprehensive, eyes.

Knowing that this simple man genuinely wanted to remember his "origins" was also a most basic expression of gratitude.

Ye Qingfeng suddenly found it somewhat amusing, yet also somewhat relieved.