Tianjin, starting with unorthodox methods to achieve immortality

After parting ways with Li Jinrong, Chen Mo checked the time and randomly chose a small restaurant on the street.

Pushing aside the oilcloth curtain, the steaming heat from the restaurant hit you in the face.

An old-fashioned gramophone in the corner was playing Zhou Xuan's "The Wandering Songstress".

He ordered a bowl of beef noodles and sat by the window to eat it slowly.

The noodle soup was topped with bright red chili oil, and the beef was stewed until tender. He chewed slowly, and Zhou Xuan's clear, melodious voice echoed in his ears: "To the ends of the earth, I search for a soulmate..."

When paying, Chen Mo stopped the waiter who was clearing the dishes: "Excuse me, could you tell me where I live?"

The waiter wiped his hands with a rag: "Go ahead."

How do I get to Ryubo-ji Temple?

The waiter looked up at him, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes. "It's in the west of the city. You can see an old locust tree after you cross Gulou Street, but the temple has been abandoned ever since Master Qinghua passed away."

Chen Mo thanked him and bought some incense sticks and white candles from a candle shop at the intersection, wrapped them in yellow paper, and tucked them under his arm.

The road to Longfa Temple became increasingly remote, the bluestone path turned into a dirt road, and the shops on both sides became sparse.

He walked for almost an hour before he finally saw the locust tree.

It was bigger than I had imagined, with canopies like clouds that covered half the sky and the drab temple.

The three characters "Longfa Temple" on the lintel of the temple are so faded that they are almost illegible. The temple gate is ajar, and it is so quiet that you can hear the rustling of the wind through the treetops.

He didn't enter the front hall, but went around the broken wall on the side and went straight to the back courtyard.

The backyard was even more overgrown than the front yard, with weeds growing almost ankle-deep.

Only that big locust tree stands tall and majestic, its trunk so thick that it takes several people to encircle it, its bark cracked like dragon scales, with some faded white strips of cloth tied to it, fluttering slightly in the wind, the whereabouts of believers from who knows how many years ago.

Chen Mo stopped under the tree, took out incense and candles, and lit them with a match.

As instructed by Chen Dachuan, three sticks of incense were inserted into the soil next to the tree roots.

The wisps of smoke rose straight up, only dissipating among the dense foliage.

He took two steps back, straightened his clothes, and bowed three times respectfully to the ancient locust tree.

"I am Chen Mo, a junior, and I apologize for disturbing your peace."

After saying that, he reached into his pocket with his right hand and pulled out a finely cut paper figure.

The paper figure was no bigger than the palm of your hand, yet its features were distinct, and it wore a small paper knife at its waist, exuding an indescribable eeriness and strength.

This is Chen Mo's own modified version 2.0 of the paper puppet weapon. It has fewer of the previous complicated production processes and mainly uses pure Taiyin Qi as the core, so there is no need to use his own blood as a medium.

Amidst the rising smoke, Chen Mo, with a wisp of Yin energy condensed at his fingertips, gently touched the paper figure's brow.

The paper figure trembled slightly and stood up out of thin air, as if pulled by invisible threads, quickly standing in front of the candlelight.

"The paper puppet is here; it can serve as a token." He stared at the locust tree and said, word by word, "My grandfather, Chen Xuanli, said that you know where the item is."

The only sound was the wind.

After a moment of deathly silence, Chen Mo suddenly felt an extremely slight tremor coming from the ground beneath his feet, as if something huge was turning over underground.

Immediately afterwards, the soil that had clung to the base of the locust tree began to slide down in a soft rustling sound.

Beneath the largest tree root, the soil began to arch upwards, creating a crack.

The cracks grew larger and larger, but no insects emerged, nor did they smell of decay; only a long-buried earthy odor remained.

Chen Mo frowned slightly and took a few steps back without making a sound. This tree really is a spirit!

Under his watchful eye, an iron box was slowly lifted up by a thick tree root.

The box was small, about a foot square, and was severely rusted, covered with mottled black and red rust marks, making it almost impossible to see its original color.

The surface is undecorated, except for a few talisman-like engravings at the junction of the lid and body.

With a thought, Chen Mo had the paper puppet step forward, pick up the iron box, and bring it to him.

The tin box was quite heavy, far exceeding its weight for its size.

The latches were rusted shut, but the lid did not appear to be completely sealed.

Chen Mo took out a small knife from his pocket, inserted it into the gap, and gently pried it open.

"Click."

A soft sound rang out clearly in the quiet backyard.

The box lid is open.

What came into view was a jade disc.

It is about the size of a palm, with a simple and ancient shape, and is not a typical dragon and phoenix or flower and bird motif.

The jade has a warm, bluish-white color under sunlight, like solidified mutton fat.

Upon closer inspection, the inner and outer edges of the jade ring each have a ring of extremely fine engraved thunder patterns, while the central ring is carved with cloud and water dragon patterns. The lines are smooth and simple, and are definitely not the work of modern craftsmen.

What's even more peculiar is that the round hole in the center of the jade pendant seems to naturally carry a faint misty aura. If you stare at it for a long time, you'll feel that the small hole is deep and unfathomable.

Chen Mo observed the jade disc for a few minutes before putting it away, preparing to study it further when he got back.

Beneath the jade pendant lay a scroll of silk tied with a dark blue silk ribbon.

The silk book is made of neither silk nor paper, and it feels cool and supple to the touch.

It is about a foot long and less than half a foot wide when unfolded, and its color is a pale yellow that has accumulated over the years.

The writing above is not in ink, but in a dark, almost black cinnabar, with thin, hard strokes like iron hooks and silver lines, its sharpness restrained.

The four ancient seal characters at the beginning of the scroll clearly indicate the paper-making technique of the underworld.

[Detected cultivation technique carrier - the first half of "Netherworld Paper Making Technique"]

Load?

Chen Mo's gaze lingered on the four ancient seal characters of the Netherworld Paper Making for a moment, and he silently recited in his heart: "Load."

A barely perceptible light flashed across the silk scroll, and then the Moonlight Mirror in the sea of ​​consciousness shone brightly, clearly reflecting the contents of the first half of the newly loaded "Netherworld Paper Making Technique".

[The First Half of "The Art of Paper Making in the Underworld"]

[Inheritance Grade: Mid-Rank Human]

[Overview of the Inheritance: This is a fragmentary text, only recording the application of the technique, lacking the fundamental principles. It uses essence and blood to manipulate paper and communicate with the spirits to control puppets, but without corresponding mental techniques for harmonization and guidance, forced application will inevitably damage one's life force. The first three layers concern form and guidance, while the latter three involve spirit and danger.]

[Loading complete, currently parsing content from the fourth to sixth levels...]

Within the sea of ​​consciousness, the clear light of the [Moonlight Mirror] flowed, revealing the last three layers of secret techniques recorded in the silk scroll, one by one.

Chen Mo glanced at the technique and, feeling that nothing had been missed, rolled up the silk scroll containing the "Netherworld Paper Making Technique" again and tied it tightly with a dark blue silk ribbon.

The physical object is no longer useful; carrying it around would only be a burden.

He hesitated for a moment, then put the silk book back into the iron box and closed the lid.

The paper puppet silently stepped forward, picked up the iron box, and steadily placed it back to the slowly closing crack at the base of the ancient locust tree.

The soil, as if alive, writhed slightly, engulfing the iron box once more.

A moment later, the ground returned to normal, leaving only a few traces of being turned over, which would soon be blown away by the wind.

Having done all this, Chen Mo nodded slightly to the ancient locust tree again, then turned and left without lingering.

The paper puppet transformed into a gray shadow and slipped into the sleeve.

They arrived cautiously and left with light, silent steps, quickly crossing the overgrown backyard, bypassing the broken wall, and leaving the desolate Longfa Temple.