If you die, I will be able to inherit your cultivation.

Zhou Ming lay back on the bed, his hands behind his head, staring at the dark beams, a wide smile on his face.

However, we still need to be careful.

He turned over, took the remaining two copies of "The Book of Salvation" from his bosom, and put them under his pillow.

This thing is his biggest asset right now, more valuable than the hundreds of taels of silver under the bed.

Once the money is spent, it's gone; but once the scriptures are distributed, others can work for him for a lifetime.

I'll try to copy a few more books tomorrow.

After copying, find an opportunity to slip out of the mansion and dump the graffiti wherever there are crowds, such as teahouses, restaurants, city god temples, or under overpasses.

Just as he was feeling quite pleased with himself, Zhou Ming suddenly remembered something, and his brows furrowed again.

It's really not possible to go to the dilapidated temple for the time being.

Those beggars called him a demon; if someone overheard that, they might report it to the authorities. Zhou Ming dared not gamble.

If he dares to show his face again and gets caught red-handed, it won't just be a matter of being seen as a sorcerer.

Preaching scriptures while masked, luring the poor with steamed buns, and even conjuring flames in public—in the eyes of the government, this was nothing short of spreading heresy and misleading the public, and would be punished severely, if not beheaded.

Thinking of this, Zhou Ming made a silent resolution: he would never go near that dilapidated temple for at least ten days or half a month.

As for those beggars who have read the scriptures many times, let them be.

If they can actually read it a hundred times and practice it to some extent, wouldn't that be exactly the effect he wants?

If they forget halfway through reading, he won't lose anything; it's just a matter of a few steamed buns.

As the night deepened, the footsteps of the night patrol guards could be heard outside the window. The clapper struck three times, signaling that it was already past midnight.

Zhou Ming couldn't sleep any longer, so he simply sat up, took out the two copies of "The Book of Crossing the World" that he had copied by hand, and carefully flipped through them by the moonlight coming in from the window.

Although the handwriting on the pages is neat, it is ultimately a handwritten copy, and omissions are inevitable during the transcription process.

He had to ensure that every scripture he distributed was exactly correct, since whether someone could develop magical powers depended entirely on these three thousand characters, and not a single character could be wrong.

As he watched, Zhou Ming suddenly stood up.

"no."

"The scriptures were only passed on to Fang Yuan; the objective was too clear."

With his experience from both his past and present lives, Zhou Ming was all too familiar with the ways and practices of these capitalists and powerful families.

These wealthy and powerful families are extremely suspicious, especially if something unusual happens in the surrounding area.

The Marquis's mansion will then begin an investigation. Once the people in the mansion follow the clues and find out that he was the one spreading the scriptures, given the nature of aristocratic families, they will never target only Fang Yuan.

Everyone in the vicinity, including servants and people Fang Yuan had come into contact with on a daily basis, would be screened one by one.

"Better to kill a hundred innocent people than let one guilty person go free"—this is a rule ingrained in their very being.

As a lowly second-class servant, it was inevitable that he would be questioned, and the possibility of him being abandoned was also very high.

Zhou Ming paced back and forth in the room, his steps quickening.

After thinking for a long time, he gritted his teeth.

We have to distribute the remaining two scriptures tonight.

The more places where the "Scripture of Crossing the World" appears, the more mysterious the investigation will become, and the safer he will be.

Even if someone figured out the meaning of the scriptures, they would only assume it was some master preaching around the city, and would never suspect him, a mere servant of a marquis's mansion.

We have no choice but to take the risk.

Zhou Ming pushed open the door, poked half his head out, and looked around. The alley was pitch black, and the night patrol had just passed by. The next patrol wouldn't be for at least another half an hour.

Without further hesitation, Zhou Ming crouched low and slipped into the night, following the shadows along the base of the wall towards the exit of the mansion.

He lived in the servants' quarters on the outskirts of the Marquis's mansion, where the guards were already lax.

Occasionally, when guards see servants going out, they will usually turn a blind eye as long as the servants are not carrying large bags of things out.

Zhou Ming easily found his way to the dog hole, lay down, and crawled out using both hands and feet.

Once outside the mansion, he became even more cautious.

There is a curfew in Yuyang County at night, and soldiers patrol the main street from time to time.

Zhou Ming dared not take the main road, but instead stayed close to the back walls of low houses, passed through several narrow alleys, and arrived at the outside of a tall mansion.

No one knew whose mansion it was, but the gate tower was towering and the courtyard wall was over ten feet high. It was dark inside, and occasionally a few barks could be heard.

Zhou Ming, making sure no one was around, took out the book "The Book of Crossing the World" from his pocket, flicked his arm, and the book flew over the courtyard wall, landing with a thud deep in the courtyard.

Zhou Ming didn't care whether there was anyone inside or whether he could find anything; he turned around and ran away.

He ran across two streets, through a dark alley, and arrived at the gates of another mansion.

This mansion was even more magnificent than the previous one, with two large red lanterns hanging at the entrance, casting a dim light on the stone lions in front of the gate.

Zhou Ming crept along the wall to the side door, and just as he pulled out the last copy of "The Book of Crossing the World" from his pocket, he was about to throw it inside.

"Who goes there!"

A loud shout suddenly came from inside the courtyard, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps and the clanging of swords being drawn.

Zhou Ming felt a chill run down his spine. He swung his arm violently, sending the book flying into the courtyard wall, and then turned and ran.

The sound of the courtyard gate slamming open came from behind. The firelight flickered a few times, and the people who chased after them cursed a few times, but ultimately did not actually catch up.

Zhou Ming ran recklessly for two streets, then crouched behind a dilapidated City God Temple for the time it takes to burn half an incense stick to make sure no one was following him. Only then did he crouch down and grope his way back to the dog hole of the Marquis's mansion.

He slipped through the dog hole, scurried through the alley, and pushed open the door to his own house—all in one smooth motion.

Zhou Ming slammed the door shut and collapsed onto the bed with a thud.

Only then did he realize that his clothes were soaked with cold sweat, clinging to his body, wet and cold.

It took Zhou Ming a while to calm down.

Zhou Ming took off his coat, lay back on the bed, closed his eyes, and focused his attention on the space between his eyebrows.

Several chains of cause and effect hung silently there.

The beggars' silk threads remained unchanged, the same thickness as before, and even seemed slightly weaker because they hadn't been seen reciting for half a day.

Zhou Ming frowned, then relaxed. He couldn't worry about the dilapidated temple for the time being; he'd just have to let things take their course.

The other one, which was just added today, is gradually solidifying at a speed visible to the naked eye.

The silk thread, which was initially ethereal, gradually gained some weight. Although it was still pitifully thin, its solidity was completely different from the other threads.

It is square or round.

Zhou Ming suddenly became excited, turned over, put his hands behind his head, stared at the dark beams, and couldn't fall asleep no matter what.

He knew that Fang Yuan must be reading "The Book of Crossing the World" under the cover of night.

"This kid is really impatient, but I like him."

As he stared intently at the causal chain in the square, suddenly, a faint, almost imperceptible thread appeared silently between his brows.

Zhou Ming was stunned for a moment, then suddenly sat up.

Which one is this?

He examined it carefully for a while. This newly formed causal chain was even fainter than Fang Yuan's original one, almost like a wisp of smoke that could be blown away by the wind at any moment.

But it truly exists, and it is slowly solidifying.

Which of those two residences is it? Or is it somewhere else?

Zhou Ming's heart started pounding again.

In the quiet of the night, he sat alone on the bed and suddenly grinned.

It seems that my risky adventure just now has had some effect.