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

The old woman sobbed uncontrollably, tearfully telling everyone, "Dazhu... he went through a lot of trouble a little over a week ago to bring back such a large pile of good firewood from the back mountain."

He said he wanted to dry the grain in the good weather so it would be easier to burn in the winter. But he only chopped a small portion... That day, a friend from out of town whom he had met years ago while working at the docks suddenly came to visit.

He said there was an important business deal and insisted on taking him out to see it, saying it could make a lot of money... My son is filial and wanted to earn more money to ease the family's burden.

And so...and I went with them...who knew, who knew that after only two days back, they would...and become like this! My son! You are suffering, you can't let go!!!

Upon hearing this, the young woman and the little girl were overcome with grief and embraced each other, weeping uncontrollably.

Many villagers outside the courtyard, especially those whose families were also breadwinners, were heartbroken upon hearing this and sighed with sorrow.

Who could have imagined that Chen Dazhu's lingering obsession after death would manifest in such a horrifying form?

It wasn't some deep-seated hatred, but rather such a simple yet heartbreaking concern for family.

A pile of unchopped firewood, and a heavy worry about whether his wife, children, and elderly mother would have enough to eat for the winter.

The old woman cried out and staggered to the woodpile, picked up the heavy axe on the ground, and chopped down on a thick log with all her might!

"My son! Mother will chop! Mother can still chop! Look! Mother can do it!"

But she was old and frail, and with one swing of the axe, she only left a shallow mark on the wood.

The axe actually made her arm go numb from the impact, almost causing her to drop it, and her body swayed.

"Mother!" the young woman exclaimed, and went to help her up.

Several kind-hearted villagers couldn't bear to see this any longer and rolled up their sleeves, ready to help: "Grandma Chen, let us help you! We'll do this work for you!"

"There's no need for such trouble."

Ye Qingfeng, who had remained silent as if detached from this joy and sorrow, finally spoke again.

His voice remained calm and clear, yet it carried a calming power.

The villagers thought Ye Qingfeng was going to help chop firewood himself, and they quickly smiled and said...

"Master, we can't trouble you with such rough work. We may not be good at exorcising demons, but we are certainly strong."

Ye Qingfeng smiled without saying a word.

His gaze fell upon the mountain of logs. He raised his right hand, his sleeves fluttering even without wind, and with his index and middle fingers joined together, he made a light tap towards the pile of wood.

"Everything has patterns; follow the natural order, and you will understand."

There was no dazzling golden light, no grand scale.

Only a fresh and vibrant feeling, as if carrying the scent of growing plants, flowed from his fingertips and gently brushed over the wood-fired mountain.

The next moment, to everyone's astonishment, a miracle occurred.

Those thick, sturdy logs, which would require strong men to chop with great effort, seemed to be held by an invisible, skillful hand.

Like ice layers brushed by a spring breeze, the wood, following its natural grain, produces a series of crisp, melodious, yet never harsh, cracking sounds.

They automatically and evenly split open, breaking down into perfect firewood of moderate thickness and suitable length, perfectly suited for burning in the stove.

The whole process was smooth and natural, as if these pieces of wood were meant to fulfill their purpose in this way, at this time and place.

There were no flying sawdust, no traces of chisels, only a natural "decomposition".

In an instant, the once daunting mountain of firewood was transformed into a neatly stacked pile of high-quality firewood, ready for immediate use.

Aoki-in (青木引) is a tool for manipulating wood, allowing it to be unraveled along its grain.

The practice takes place in this ordinary farmhouse courtyard, without any killing or violence, only fulfillment, making it all the more mysterious and unpredictable, in accordance with the natural way.

"Immortal magic! This is true immortal magic!" A villager was so excited that he knelt down.

"Thank you, Immortal Master! Thank you for your mercy, Immortal Master!"

The old woman and the young woman, holding the little girl's hand, knelt down before Ye Qingfeng without hesitation.

He kowtowed repeatedly, his eyes filled with endless gratitude and pleading.

The little girl looked up at her tear-streaked face and pleaded in her childish voice.

"Grandpa, please save my dad... I'll give you all the chicken legs from now on..."

The village chief and elders couldn't help but bow deeply, pleading, "May the immortal have mercy and save Dazhu! He's such a good young man!"

Ye Qingfeng quietly accepted their greetings.

His gaze, however, fell once again on "Chen Dazhu," who was completely subdued by the golden light and no longer struggling, but whose finger was still stubbornly pointing towards the pile of firewood.

A clear light flickered in his eyes as he quietly circulated the "Qi" within his body, concentrating it in his eyes.

In his current vision, Chen Dazhu's body was already completely empty.

The three souls are lost and the seven spirits are scattered, leaving only an extremely strong, pure, yet helpless "obsession".

Like a flickering candle in the wind, it coils within the corpse, driving this long-dead body to repeat the unfinished thoughts from its life.

This is not possession by evil spirits, but a special "corpse transformation" caused by the combination of the obsession of a close relative and the abnormal changes in the corpse.

It carries a heartbreaking cause and effect compared to ordinary zombies, but it has already lost all hope of survival.

Ye Qingfeng understood, and a barely perceptible sigh escaped his lips.

Life and death are the great principles of heaven and earth. With his current cultivation level, his attempt to reverse yin and yang and reshape his soul is nothing short of a fool's dream.

Of course, the main reason is that there are too few people who believe in him. If one day believers spread all over the earth...

Unbeknownst to many, he could decide life and death with a single word.

He turned his gaze away and looked at the mother and her two daughters kneeling on the ground, filled with their last hope.

The voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable, insightful composure, clearly reaching everyone's ears:

"May the Heavenly Venerable bestow boundless blessings upon you. Please rise, everyone."

He raised his right hand slightly, and a gentle force lifted the three kneeling women and their two daughters.

"Chen Dazhu's lifespan has come to an end, and his three souls have long since entered the underworld, beyond human power to bring them back."

Driven by this obsession, he is nothing but a withered shell. This humble Taoist... cannot save his life.

"Ah?!" Like a bolt from the blue, the mother and her two daughters, along with the surrounding villagers, were struck as if by a heavy blow, their faces drained of color.

The nascent hope instantly turned into deeper despair and grief.

The old woman swayed and almost fainted.

But she still endured her physical discomfort and made the request.

"Please, Taoist priest, perform a ritual to help my poor child find peace in death."

Ye Qingfeng nodded slightly, his gaze shifting to the body on the ground. His voice transformed into a solemn, compassionate tone, seemingly capable of communicating with the yin and yang realms:

"However, obsessions can be dispelled, and the departed souls can find peace. Dust to dust, ashes to ashes; once obsessions are gone, they should return to their rightful place."

He stepped forward and stood beside Chen Dazhu's corpse, his hands forming a soothing mudra.

The incantation uttered from his lips was not obscure or difficult to understand, but rather carried an ancient and profound charm, flowing naturally like a mountain spring or a forest breeze:

"Vast and mysterious, born of heaven and earth; scattered, they become vapor; gathered, they form shape... Guided by your unwavering will, return you to your true nature; with yin and yang in order, the soul finds peace... Command!"

As he finished his last syllable, he pointed to the golden stone between Chen Dazhu's eyebrows.

The stone suddenly shone brightly with golden light, then became incredibly soft, like warm sunlight melting snow, slowly seeping into Chen Dazhu's body.