Uncle Nine: You were supposed to drive corpses, so you summoned the Monkey King!

The morning sunlight.

Sunlight streamed into Lin Chen's room through the paper window, and the mountain air carried the earthy smell of rain-soaked soil.

Lin Chen sat up from the wooden bed and stretched.

I feel a sense of fulfillment all over my body, which is quite enjoyable.

The fatigue from last night's fierce battle is gone.

Lin Chen looked down at the head of the bed.

That piece of black, century-old lightning-struck wood sat there.

The wood surface shows charred, lightning-struck patterns and emits a burnt smell.

It feels harder than a stone when you touch it.

This is excellent material for making ritual implements.

Lin Chen's strength is now far greater than that of an ordinary person; ordinary ironware cannot withstand his exertion.

That's what happened to the iron axe I used to chop wood last night; it got twisted into a pretzel shape.

With this piece of lightning-struck wood, I need to get a suitable weapon.

Lin Chen dressed, tucked the lightning-struck wood into his coat, and went out the door.

In the courtyard, Jiale was squatting on the ground, brewing medicine.

The clay pot was bubbling away, and the aroma of medicine filled the entire yard.

"Senior brother, up so early?" Lin Chen greeted him.

Jiale fanned the fire, looking somewhat worried.

"How could it not be earlier? Uncle Qianhe is seriously injured. Master instructed that this medicine must be simmered over a low flame for three hours."

"By the way, junior brother, Master is practicing his skills in the backyard."

Lin Chen nodded and walked through the lobby toward the backyard.

Master Simu was dressed in a white training uniform and held a large bronze sword in his hand.

The old Taoist priest, holding a whetstone, sat on a stone bench and painstakingly sharpened the blade of a sword.

"Good morning, Master." Lin Chen walked over.

Master Simu stopped what he was doing and used his thumb to scrape the blade of his sword.

"What do you mean 'early'? My great sword is half ruined, it's full of chips."

"That zombie's bones are really hard. Next time I encounter it, I'll have to think of a different approach."

Lin Chen took out the piece of lightning-struck wood from his pocket and handed it to Daoist Simu.

"Master, I have a favor to ask of you."

"I'd like to borrow your woodworking tools to make a wooden sword."

Master Four Eyes glanced at the piece of wood in Lin Chen's hand.

Once I took one look, my eyes were glued to it and I couldn't tear them away.

The whetstone fell to the ground.

"What... what is this?"

Master Simu stood up and snatched the lightning-struck wood.

The old Taoist priest brought the wood to his nose and smelled it, then scratched the surface with his fingernail.

Not even a white mark was left.

"Such pure and righteous heavenly thunder energy!" Master Four Eyes widened his eyes.

"This is over a hundred years old, struck wood."

"You brat, where did you get this kind of treasure?"

Lin Chen had already come up with an excuse.

"I found it in the pine forest last night when I was chasing that zombie."

"At the time, I saw that the piece of wood was dark and smoking, and I thought it was quite special, so I just put it in my pocket."

"Master, can this be used to make a sword?"

Master Simu's expression was somewhat complicated after hearing this.

He sighed.

"Found it? You just randomly picked up some century-old lightning-struck wood in the mud in the middle of the night?"

"I have spent most of my life cultivating Taoism, traveling all over the country, and I have never even seen a piece of ten-year-old lightning-struck wood."

"Your luck is truly incredible; it's like the patriarch himself was feeding you."

Master Four Eyes touched the wood and finally handed it back to Lin Chen.

"This thing has its own heavenly lightning attribute, which is specifically designed to counter evil spirits. It's ten times better than my bronze sword."

"The tools are in a wooden box in the storeroom. Go get them yourself, but this wood is very hard, so be careful not to break the knife."

Lin Chen thanked him and turned to go to the storeroom to find tools.

A small basket was filled with planes, chisels, and saws.

Lin Chen moved the tools to the open space in the front yard and found a wooden frame to secure the lightning-struck wood.

Lin Chen picked up a saw and measured the size of the wood.

I plan to first cut out the outline of a sword blank.

Hold the saw handle with both hands and pull.

"Crunch."

A scraping sound rang out.

The serrated edge scraped across the lightning-struck wood, leaving only a white mark.

Lin Chen stopped what he was doing; this wood was really hard.

Lin Chen channeled his inner energy into his dantian, channeling it down his arm and into the saw.

Pull hard again.

"Crunch, crunch."

This time, the saw teeth bit into the wood, and black sawdust fell down.

The system notification sounded in my head.

[Ding! Host is detected crafting a magical artifact.]

This action has been included in the daily settlement of ritual duties.

[Current Task: Carve a lightning-struck wooden sword, Progress: 1/100.]

Lin Chen smiled; it was a daily routine that anything could be stuck in the system.

Lin Chen focused intently on pulling the saw.

Wood chips fell down, and sweat streamed down Lin Chen's forehead.

The sound of a plate shattering came from the lobby.

Then came Minister Wu's cursing.

"Oh my god! What kind of pig slop is this?!"

"This rice porridge is full of sand, and the pickled vegetables are spoiled!"

"You bunch of poor Taoist priests, are you deliberately trying to starve our young prince to death?"

Lin Chen stopped what he was doing, put down the saw, dusted himself off, and went into the house.

On the octagonal table in the main hall, a bowl of white rice porridge was overturned on the floor, the porcelain bowl shattered into several pieces, and the porridge was spilled everywhere.

Jiale stood to the side holding a tray, looking somewhat aggrieved.

"Manager Wu, this rice is the best rice in our temple. It rained heavily last night, the firewood got wet, and we didn't control the heat properly."

"Please make do with this. The town is far from here, and there's nowhere to buy refined grains."

Wu Shilang pinched his pinky finger, covered his nose with a handkerchief, crossed his legs, and pointed at Jiale's nose.

"Make do? Our young prince is of noble birth, how could he eat such lowly food?"

"Hurry up and kill the chickens your dojo is raising, then make a pot of chicken soup!"

"If even a single feather is missing, I'll skin you alive!"

The young man in the yellow jacket sat silently to the side, his body hunched over.

Lin Chen walked over, bent down, and picked up the broken pieces of porcelain from the ground.

He threw the broken pieces of porcelain on the table, making a loud noise.

"No chicken. Take it or leave it." Lin Chen looked at Minister Wu.

Wu Shilang slammed his hand on the table and stood up.

"You've gone too far! How dare you, a lowly Taoist disciple, speak to me like that?"

"Believe me or not, when I return to the capital, I'll report to the Emperor and have your shabby temple shut down!"

Lin Chen didn't indulge him.

He reached out and grabbed Minister Wu by the collar, lifting him off the bench.

Lin Chen is very strong now, and he can lift Wu Shilang, who weighs over 100 jin, without much effort.

"Let go! Let go! Help! Murder!"

Wu Shilang kicked his legs wildly in mid-air, and the handkerchief in his hand fell to the ground.

Four wounded guards came out of the side room after hearing the commotion.

The guards held single-edged swords, but none of them dared to step forward.

They clearly saw Lin Chen defeat the royal zombies last night.

"Manager Wu, if we hadn't stopped that zombie last night, you wouldn't even have any bones left."

Lin Chen looked at Minister Wu's face, which was covered in white powder.

"Here, we set the rules."

"You should be grateful to have a hot meal at all. If you dare to throw another tantrum, I'll throw you into the back mountains to be fed to the wolves right now."

Lin Chen loosened his grip.

Wu Shilang fell to the ground, pointed at Lin Chen, and didn't dare to utter a single curse word for a long time.

The curtain to the inner room was lifted.

Master Simu walked out with his hands behind his back, looking at Minister Wu on the ground.

"Lin Chen, well done."

"To deal with such ungrateful people, you have to use your fists to reason with them."

Master Simu walked to the Eight Immortals table, sat down, and picked up a bowl of porridge that Jiale had just refilled and began to drink.

Wu Shilang knew he was in the wrong and was also afraid of Lin Chen's martial prowess.

He got up from the ground and pulled the young prince back to the side room.

The four guards also went back.

The lobby was quiet.

A coughing sound came from the inner room.

Master Qianhe has woken up.

Master Simu put down his bowl of porridge and strode into the inner room.

Lin Chen and Jia Le followed them inside.

Master Qianhe lay on the bed, his face pale, but his breathing was more stable than the night before.

The wound on his chest, which had been treated with snake venom ointment, had scabbed over with a layer of black scab.

"Junior brother, you're awake. How are you feeling?" Master Simu asked, sitting by the bedside.