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

The thin man in gray didn't know what he was doing, but his intuition told him that this Taoist priest was not someone he could afford to offend.

He took a step back, trying to run, but his legs wouldn't obey him.

Ye Qingfeng stopped.

His brow furrowed slightly.

His gaze shifted from the ground to the thin man in gray clothes, and then to the white stone.

Can't figure it out.

Just like Jingyang Prefecture back then, it was a state of chaos.

The stone looked as if it were covered by something.

His divine sense reached out, as if it had entered a sticky, boundless darkness, where he could neither touch nor see anything.

He thought for a moment, then moved his finger to a different position and tapped a few more times.

This time, he wasn't calculating the stone, but rather the thin man in gray.

Stones can't calculate it, but people can.

His fingers stopped.

He found out.

Wishing stone?

A secret realm?

Interesting, there really are such things as wishing stones. I'd like to go and see if they can really grant any wish.

Ye Qingfeng withdrew his hand and put it behind his back.

His face was expressionless; he merely glanced at the thin man in gray, then turned and walked out of the woods.

He walked quickly, yet unhurriedly, as if treading an invisible path, each step taking a long stride.

There was no sound, no light. With just one step, two steps, three steps, his figure blurred, like smoke scattered by the night wind.

The thin man in gray stood there, watching the receding figure, his mouth agape, unable to close.

He had only one thought in his mind—to shrink the distance to an inch.

This is a supernatural power that only a great being could possess.

He had just wanted to kill this person, thinking that this person was weaker than him and that he could easily get rid of him.

His legs started to tremble, his body started to shake, and his teeth were chattering. He was alive, he was still alive; the man hadn't killed him.

A feeling of relief, as if he had survived a disaster, welled up inside him.

He took a deep breath, sheathed his sword, and turned to leave.

I took two steps.

His sword flew out of its sheath on its own.

The sword spun once in mid-air, blade down, hilt up, hanging there, as if someone were holding it, or as if it were a person itself.

The cold blue light on the blade suddenly turned red, as red as blood. It drew an arc in the air and then fell down.

The thin man in gray heard the sound of a sword ringing behind him.

Before he could even turn around, he knew nothing more.

His head slid off his shoulder, rolled onto the ground, rolled twice, and stopped next to a rock.

His eyes were still open, his mouth was still agape, and the expression on his face was one of relief after surviving a disaster—no fear, no pain, nothing at all.

His body was still standing, the cut on his neck neat and clean, blood gushing from his cavity, spraying high like a red fountain in the moonlight.

He sprayed for a few breaths, then stopped.

His body swayed, then he fell to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust.

The sword flew back into its sheath.

With a "click," it was as crisp as before.

The moonlight shone on the sword hilt, on the scabbard, and on the corpse lying in a pool of blood.

......

Lu Yang squatted on a rock, holding a twig in his hand, and drew circles on the ground.

He has already drawn several circles, big and small, crooked and round, one inside the other.

Miao Gui sat on a tree root next to him, holding the chubby baby. The baby had already woken up and was craning his neck to watch Lü Yang draw circles. After watching for a while, he got bored and shrank back.

Shen Zhaoyue leaned against the tree trunk, holding a knife, her eyes closed as if she were asleep, but her ears kept twitching.

A cool night breeze blew by.

The moon overhead had already begun to set in the west, and the stars were a little brighter than before. The woods were quiet; there were no insects chirping, no birds singing, and even the wind had stopped.

This kind of quiet isn't ordinary quiet; it's the kind that sends chills down your spine, like something is watching you from the shadows.

But Lü Yang was no longer afraid.

He stopped, threw away the branch, stood up, and patted the dirt off his backside.

"Why hasn't the Immortal Master returned yet?"

He glanced towards the woods, but it was pitch black and he couldn't see anything.

Miao Gui did not answer.

He looked down at the chubby baby in his arms. The baby had fallen asleep again, drool dripping from the corner of its mouth onto Miao Gui's sleeve, which Miao Gui did not wipe away.

Shen Zhaoyue opened her eyes, glanced at Lü Yang, and then closed them again.

Just as Lü Yang was about to say something more, a voice suddenly rang in his mind.

It wasn't coming from outside, it was coming from inside, like someone was talking inside his head.

The voice was neither too loud nor too soft, neither too fast nor too slow, and carried an indescribable clarity.

"You guys go first, don't wait for me."

Lu Yang was stunned for a moment.

This is the voice of the immortal master.

Then, several things suddenly appeared in his hands.

Three red beads and three gold beads, small and round, a little bigger than soybeans, rolled around in his palm.

It was red like fire and golden like thunder. Its surface was smooth and without patterns, but he could feel something inside—something very hot and very shiny.

The immortal master's voice rang out again, still neither too loud nor too soft: "Three fire beads and three thunder beads. That's enough to annihilate anything below the level of an immortal. The aura emanating from the beads can deter the surrounding evil spirits. You may leave now."

Lu Yang held the six beads in his hands, his palms burning.

It wasn't the kind of scalding that was unbearably hot, but rather a warm, gentle heat, like holding a freshly brewed cup of tea.

He carefully put the bead into his pocket, patted it to make sure it wouldn't fall out, then looked up at Miao Gui and Shen Zhaoyue.

"The immortal master told us to go ahead, and he will follow shortly."

Miao Gui didn't ask why, stood up, and bounced the chubby baby up and down.

The chubby baby was jolted awake. He groggily opened his eyes, glanced at Lü Yang, and then closed them again.

Shen Zhaoyue straightened up from the tree trunk, held the knife carefully, and nodded to Lü Yang.

After walking for a while, Lü Yang couldn't help but ask Miao Gui, "When will we reach a village if we keep going? I want to sleep in a bed."

His voice was weak and drifted through the empty mountain forest without echoing.

Miao Gui chuckled.

The laughter sounded a little eerie at night, but Lü Yang was used to it.

"Two more days' walk and I'll reach my village." His tone carried an indescribable sense of pride.

Lü Yang's eyes lit up. "Your village? Aren't you a corpse driver? You have a village?"

Miao Gui glanced at him.

"Can't corpse drivers have their own villages? My village is huge, it has everything." He said, shaking his head, but a smirk played on his lips.

Lü Yang didn't argue with him and asked again, "What's the name of your village?"

Miao Gui thought for a moment and said, "Let's call it Miao Village. It's deep in the mountains, near a big river."