Tianjin, starting with unorthodox methods to achieve immortality

Chen Mo closed the door, and with a thought, his divine sense quickly swept across the entire room.

After scanning around and finding nothing unusual, he came to the table, flipped his right hand, and took out several items one after another from the storage space, arranging them in a row on the table.

Ghost control card, bone beads, protective amulet armor, small porcelain bottle, and jet-black dagger.

Unfortunately, the opponent did not carry the technique with him. He had just tried to use Soul Capture, but for some reason it failed.

Chen Mo drew the dagger from its sheath. The blade did not reflect light under the kerosene lamp, and it was made of an unknown material. It was completely black, with only the edge occasionally flashing a faint light.

He lightly rubbed the blade with his thumb, without applying any force, but a thin white mark appeared on his fingertip.

It's incredibly sharp.

"good."

Chen Mo tucked the dagger into his waistband, took out a wooden box from his storage space, and put all the other items inside.

The flame of the kerosene lamp flickered.

He didn't rush to rest; after a moment's hesitation, he took out the mask given to him by the Moon Worship Envoy.

If a low-level employee of the inspection bureau gets involved with this kind of sect, and it gets exposed, not only will his job be in jeopardy, but he might not even be able to keep his head.

The mask is made of neither gold nor wood; it feels like a very thin leather to the touch, yet it is as cool as jade.

After observing for a while and finding nothing unusual, Chen Mo took a deep breath and slowly injected the Yin energy into his fingertips.

The vermilion mask trembled slightly, and the crescent moon mark on its forehead suddenly lit up.

Chen Mo felt as if someone had pushed him from behind, and he suddenly fell into a gray, misty space.

There was no distinction between up, down, left, or right in the space; it felt as if we were floating in a void.

There was no solid ground beneath my feet, no dome overhead, and all around me was an endless gray mist with no end in sight.

Divine Consciousness Space?

Before he could adjust to the feeling of weightlessness, the fog not far ahead suddenly began to churn violently.

Two beams of light emerged from the mist.

A patch of dark green, a patch of dark gold.

Chen Mo subconsciously tensed up and took a step back.

As the fog gradually dissipated, he finally saw the two people clearly.

Only a rough humanoid silhouette was visible, with no discernible clothing. The entire figure was formed from grayish-white, semi-transparent mist, resembling two solidified plumes of smoke.

The only thing with color was the masks they wore on their faces.

The mask of the phantom on the left is a ghostly green, with an ancient design and faintly visible twisted vine patterns along its edges.

The mask covered the entire face, with only two narrow holes around the eyes.

The mask of the phantom on the right was dark gold, with rough and sharp lines, and two protruding ridges on its forehead, exuding an undisguised murderous aura.

"A newcomer?"

The voice came from the direction of the dark green mask.

The phantom of the dark gold mask crossed its arms over its chest, remained silent, and merely tilted its head slightly to examine Chen Mo.

Chen Mo noticed that although the face of the illusory figure was not clear, judging from its posture and physique, it should also be a male.

"Did you bring him in?" The ghostly figure with the eerie green mask turned its head to look at the figure beside it.

"The person I'm looking for."

The phantom of the dark gold mask finally spoke, its voice deep and steady, carrying a sense of authority that came from someone who had long held a high position.

It's also a male voice, but it carries a more commanding presence than the former.

Two blurry figures, two men.

Chen Mo made a quick judgment without showing any emotion.

The illusory figure in the pale green mask looked at Chen Mo again and nodded slightly: "Sixth Seat, Youming."

A phantom image of a dark gold mask followed closely behind: "Third Seat, Blood Butcher."

He was silent for a few seconds, recalling the identity that Xue Tu had mentioned at the Mountain God Temple: "The Eighth Seat, Jiu You."

Blood Butcher snorted beside him, his illusory figure swaying slightly as if he were sizing up Chen Mo: "You've got guts. You can stay so calm even after entering this place. You're much better than that good-for-nothing from before."

"Can't this mask be taken off?" Chen Mo raised his hand and touched it. He could clearly feel the mask's presence even here, as if it were branded deep within his soul. "Is it already bound?"

"It's linked."

Youming nodded, the phantom swaying slightly with his movements. "From the moment you infused your aura into it, this mask belongs only to you. Unless you die, no one can use it."

"The space you are entering now is the Moon Concealment Realm of our Moon Worship Cult."

"Eight divine messengers, eight masks. Only the holders of the masks can freely enter and exit this place. Anyone else who wants to come in must be led by us."

"Eight seats..." Chen Mo repeated, his gaze sweeping across the hazy space. Apart from the swirling gray mist and their three illusory figures, there was nothing else. "Right now, it's just the three of us."

“The others all have their own things to do and aren’t always here,” Youming said. “This space doesn’t have a fixed opening time. You can come in whenever you want, as long as you don’t block the mask’s senses.”

Chen Mo thought for a moment and then asked a crucial question: "What is the purpose of this space?"

"Execute missions, exchange intelligence, share resources, and help each other when necessary."

Youming's voice remained calm and unhurried, "If you need any information, you can post a bounty in the space and exchange it for contribution points."

"If you need someone to help you with things that are inconvenient for you to handle yourself, you can also use contribution points to hire other divine messengers to help you."

"Contribution points?"

"This is recorded by the First Ksitigarbha. Completing the tasks he assigns will earn you contributions."

Youming said, "You can figure out the specific rules on your own, but there's one rule I need to make clear first..."

"The eight divine messengers are forbidden from killing each other; any who violate this rule will be executed by the other seven."

Chen Mo faced the mask without flinching or avoiding it: "Understood."

Youming suddenly laughed, "Third brother, I'm quite satisfied with the people you found this time. They have guts and brains, unlike the previous ones, who came in trembling like quails."

Blood Butcher did not echo this, but simply nodded slightly. "Eighth seat, Nine Nether, welcome."

"Since we're all on the same side now, let me make this clear from the start: in this space, contribution points are the hard currency."

"If you don't have contribution points, you can't get anything. Figure out how to get your first contribution point yourself, don't think about asking others for it."

"I know the rules," Chen Mo said, his tone neither humble nor arrogant. "No need to remind me."

Blood Butcher's phantom paused for a moment, and a smile-like curve appeared on his mask.

"Good, that's got guts."

Youming raised his hand and made a sweeping motion in the air, and a ball of light suddenly appeared in his hand.

With a gentle flick of his wrist, the ball of light slowly drifted toward Chen Mo.

"This is the part of the information that can be made public at the moment. You can take your time to look at it when you get back."

Chen Mo raised his hand to catch the ball of light, and understanding the unspoken message, probed it with his divine sense, quickly scanning its contents.

Most of the information was scattered, such as the movements of a certain unorthodox sect in the south, the approximate location of a certain secret realm, and clues about the circulation of a certain treasure.

The information wasn't particularly crucial, but it was valuable enough for him, a newcomer to the area.

Just as he was about to examine it more closely, Blood Butcher suddenly spoke up: "You should leave."

"Um?"

"Your spiritual sense is still very weak. It's your first time entering this space, so you shouldn't stay too long," Blood Butcher said. "Staying too long will damage your spiritual sense."

As soon as the other person finished speaking, Chen Mo felt a force surging from all directions, as if the entire gray space was squeezing him out.

He didn't struggle, but just glanced at the two illusory figures one last time.

Youming floated silently in the gray mist, his pale green mask motionless, revealing no emotion.

Xue Tu Chong waved his hand, as if shooing away a fly.

The gray fog suddenly closed in.

Chen Mo felt as if he had been pulled out of the water, and his consciousness returned to his body.

Originally, he only had half of his spiritual power left after controlling the Giant Spirit God, and now it was almost completely depleted.

The book "Tianjin: The Path to Immortality from Unorthodox Methods" is full of classic quotes, seeking resonance.

The flame of the kerosene lamp was still flickering, casting swaying shadows on the wall in its dim light.

He opened his eyes and found himself still sitting at the table, his right hand still holding the mask.

My fingertips were icy cold; the mask was much cooler than when I first took it out, like a piece of real jade.

A faint burning sensation came from the crescent-shaped mark on his forehead, which then quickly dissipated, as if some kind of mark had been completely integrated into his body.

Nine Netherworlds.

Chen Mo turned the mask over to look at the back. The originally smooth back had a line of extremely small characters that were barely visible unless you looked closely.

"Once you enter the Netherworld, your soul and spirit become one. You are born as a messenger of the Netherworld, and you return to the Netherworld in death."

He stared at the line of text for a few seconds, a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, whether it was a smile or self-mockery was hard to tell.

After putting the mask into his storage space, Chen Mo stood up and went to the window.

A cool night breeze swept in, and the faint sounds of dogs barking drifted from afar. Further on, a few lights could be seen.

After summoning several shadow puppets to guard the night, Chen Mo turned back to the bedside, his palms facing upwards, his eyes slightly closed, and the Yin energy within his body slowly circulated, completing a small cycle along his meridians.

The night was quite taxing. Although it didn't cause any fundamental damage, it did deplete most of the Yin energy, leaving the person with very little mental strength.

We must act quickly to restore order.

Fortunately, with his late-stage Qi Refining cultivation, he could recover about 70-80% after a normal night of meditation.

The sky outside the window changed from pitch black to deep blue, and then from deep blue to grayish-white.

Chen Mo opened his eyes when the first rooster crowed in the distance.

The Yin energy has recovered to eighty percent, and the mental energy has also recovered to about half.

He stretched his neck, his joints making a slight cracking sound, got out of bed, poured himself a glass of leftover cold tea, and rinsed his mouth.

Footsteps sounded outside the door, paused for a moment, and then there was a knock.

"Mr. Chen, are you up?" It was Manager Sun's voice. "Master Li asked me to come and wake you up. He said we should get ready to leave after breakfast."

Chen Mo opened the door, and Manager Sun stood in the doorway, holding a basin of hot water in his hands and a clean white towel draped over his shoulder, smiling broadly: "Mr. Chen, please wash your face. Breakfast is laid out in the main hall. Mr. Li and Miss Shen have already gone there."

Several people were already seated in the main hall.

Li Jinrong sat in the main seat, with a bowl of millet porridge and several side dishes in front of him. When he saw Chen Mo come in, his chubby face immediately lit up with a smile, and he waved to him: "Come, come, sit down, we've been waiting for you."

Shen Yunjin sat opposite Li Jinrong, with similar food laid out in front of her, but she ate much more elegantly than Li Jinrong.

She looked up at Chen Mo, said nothing, and then lowered her head to drink her porridge.

Tie Kun stood at the door, holding a bowl of porridge in his hand, and finished it in a few gulps.

Uncle Fu wasn't in the main hall; he was probably still in the yard watching over the goods.

Chen Mo sat down next to Shen Yunjin, and Manager Sun immediately served him a bowl of hot millet porridge and two sesame seed cakes.

The porridge was thick and creamy, with golden rice grains that looked like they had bloomed, and a layer of rice oil floating on top, clearly indicating that it had been cooked for quite some time.

The sesame seed cakes were fresh out of the oven, with sesame seeds stuck to the surface, emitting a fragrant aroma.

"Manager Sun, your cooking is quite good." Li Jinrong asked Manager Sun for another bowl of porridge, his mouth full of half a sesame seed cake, and said indistinctly.

"You flatter me, Master Li. This is just simple food; please bear with it." Manager Sun smiled, his eyes narrowing into slits.

Chen Mo took a sip of porridge, and a warm feeling spread from his stomach. After finishing the sesame cake and porridge, he put down his chopsticks and picked up his teacup to drink slowly.

Li Jinrong finished eating, wiped his mouth with a towel, and his expression became serious.

He looked at Tie Kun, then at Chen Mo, and said, "There's something I want to discuss with you."

"I telegraphed my family last night," Li Jinrong said. "My dad said that we don't know when the railway tracks will be repaired, and waiting is not a solution."

"He told me to take the highway instead, drive those two trucks to Jiangning, and then transfer to a boat when I got there."

"So what do you think?"

Chen Mo frowned: "Take the highway?"

"Yes." Li Jinrong took out a map and placed it on the table. "Manager Sun drew a route map for me. From Dezhou south, through Jinan and Suzhou to Jiangning, the whole journey is about seven or eight hundred li."

"If all goes well, it should arrive in four or five days."

Chen Mo remained silent for a few seconds.

He certainly knew what taking the highway meant.

The roads during this period, though called roads, were actually just dirt roads paved with gravel. On sunny days you'd be covered in dust, and on rainy days you'd be covered in mud.

The road was full of potholes, and the trucks bounced like leaves when they drove, so they couldn't go fast. It would take at least three or four days to travel seven or eight hundred miles.

Moreover, one cannot travel at night.

In the current environment, once you leave the city, you're in the middle of nowhere, teeming with ghosts and monsters. If you were to encounter a truly monstrous creature, you'd likely never return.

If possible, Chen Mo would rather wait until the train is repaired before leaving.

Once it's fixed, you can take the train and arrive in Jiangning in a day and a night—it's fast and reliable.

But Chen Mo remained silent.

The old man of the Li family has been in the business world of Jinshi for decades and has seen all kinds of storms. Since he asked his son to switch to the highway, he must have his reasons.

The goods belong to the Li family, the trucking fleet belongs to the Li family, and the decision-making power naturally belongs to the Li family as well.

As an outsider, he shouldn't say too much.

"Okay." Chen Mo didn't ask any more questions.

Li Jinrong glanced at him, seemingly trying to discern something from his face, but Chen Mo's face remained expressionless as always.

The fat man chuckled awkwardly, "I know you're not happy about it, and I know the road is difficult to travel on."

"But the old man has spoken, so there's nothing I can do. Don't worry, with so many people with him, nothing will happen on the road."

Chen Mo hummed in agreement, picked up his teacup, and took a sip.

Tie Kun, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up: "Master Li, I've looked at the route. The section from Dezhou to Xuzhou is relatively peaceful, but we need to be careful south of Xuzhou past Suzhou. That area is close to northern Anhui and is not safe. There was even a strange incident there last year."

"Uncle Fu knows that road; he used to run it in his younger days," Li Jinrong said. "We'll have him lead the way."

"Okay, you're in charge."

Shen Yunjin remained silent throughout, simply sipping her porridge.

"Alright, let's get ready to leave now that we've finished eating." Li Jinrong stood up, patted his stomach, and said, "Uncle Tie, go and arrange for some men to check the boxes again so they don't get jostled around on the road. Manager Sun, have someone fill up the truck with gas and prepare two extra barrels as backup."

Li Jinrong looked at Chen Mo and thought for a moment: "You sit in the passenger seat of the first truck, in the same truck as Uncle Fu. That truck is at the front, so you can react immediately if anything happens."

"it is good."

Chen Mo nodded slightly, stood up, and walked out.

The courtyard was already bustling with activity.

The guards tightened the tarpaulin covering the truck, wrapping the ropes around and around, afraid it would come loose on the road. Uncle Fu and a few others inspected the wooden crates, taking them out one by one to check, and repackaging those that were secure.

Two drivers were adding water and fuel to their truck; one was carrying a fuel can, and the other was holding a funnel.

It was already broad daylight.

The mornings in Texas are much quieter than in Tianjin. There are no clanging trams, no hawkers shouting their wares, only the distant church bells and the calls of tofu vendors at the alley entrance.

The morning breeze blew from the fields, carrying the scent of earth and crops.

Chen Mo walked to the first truck, opened the door, and sat in the passenger seat.

Chen Mo walked to the first truck, opened the door, and sat in the passenger seat.

Truck seats from this period were made of hard wooden frames with a thin layer of sponge on top, making them quite uncomfortable to sit on.

Sitting in the driver's seat was a man in his thirties, surnamed Liu, who was Manager Sun's driver.

"Mr. Chen, please sit tight. The ride is bumpy, so don't bump your head." Driver Liu smiled憨厚ly, revealing a set of yellow teeth.

Chen Mo nodded, leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes.

Four or five days on highways, seven or eight hundred miles on dirt roads, who knows what else we'll encounter.

"Why do I feel like I got tricked by that fat guy?"