Chapter 150 (including bonus chapter) Ajarn gently took...
Nezha is going to manifest?! How terrifying, how could I hear such a thing?
Ping Yu stared in disbelief, almost thinking she had misheard. If deities could manifest at will, wouldn't chaos ensue? Just then, the leopard-skin bag stirred. The small bag swayed, the amplitude increasing, repeatedly hitting Ping Yu. The bumps made her forget what she was about to say, and she turned to the leopard-skin bag, saying, "Look, doesn't it have something to say?" This place was already crowded and noisy, and Nezha, annoyed, wanted to simply kill the infant spirit in the bag. But after glancing at Ping Yu's expression, he suppressed the thought. He opened the bag, grabbed the child by the head, and pulled it out, asking, "What do you want?"
"You said you've appeared," the infant spirit said, losing its previous arrogance, and asked earnestly, "What exactly are you?"
Through the crack in the door, one pair, two pairs, three pairs... dozens of pairs of eyes densely filled the gap, like white worms mating inside a bamboo tube when it's being pried open. Goosebumps rose from his spine to the back of his neck, but Ping Yu took a deep breath and took a step forward.
"What are you looking at?"
She spoke deliberately in a fierce tone, but no one answered. The faint golden light emanating from the Buddha amulet shimmered and intertwined. After a brief exchange of glances with Pingyu, they scattered like ants behind a lamp. It seemed as if the scene before was merely an illusion created by their excessive tension. The next second, a voice sounded behind them: "Aren't you two going upstairs?"
The tone is youthful, with a slight pause.
Pingyu and Nezha stood in the hallway, with the stairs behind them. She turned around almost simultaneously, facing the stairs. There stood the volunteer who had just distributed the flyers, looking just as innocent, holding the same thick stack of flyers she had seen outside.
Given the building's poor soundproofing, footsteps should have been heard whenever someone went up or down the stairs. But Pingyu was certain that she hadn't heard anything before this sound started. The person speaking seemed to have appeared out of thin air. Despite the sweltering summer heat, Pingyu felt cold sweat pouring down her back.
Looking at the wall, he could indeed see the volunteer's shadow. Confirming that the other person was human, Ping Yu calmed down.
“Yes.” She grabbed Nezha’s forearm, trying to give herself some reassurance: “There’s nothing we want here.”
“It will be upstairs,” the volunteer suddenly smiled and pointed upwards: “Ajarn is waiting for you upstairs.”
Nezha spoke up: "What will happen if we don't go?"
The volunteer smiled without saying a word, waved her hand, and started walking upstairs. She clearly landed very lightly, yet Pingyu heard a terrifying stomping sound immediately. In an instant, a splinter of wood grazed past her eyes. A huge cacophony of noise and dust filled the air, completely obscuring her vision. To prevent Nezha from getting hurt, Pingyu pushed away the outstretched hand. However, countless faces, heads, torsos, and feet surged from the side of the wall, all seamlessly connected, completely blocking their path. The Hun Tian Ling (a magical ribbon) warily stood in front of the girl, its posture suggesting a "cut down anyone who dares to come near" attitude. The volunteer also stopped; they had just reached the top of the stairs.
"Puff puff".
The volunteer made a sound like he was teasing a cat.
As the volunteer moved, all the flyers in her arms spilled out. They scattered all over the ground, raining down on Pingyu. Through the gaps between the papers, she saw the volunteer reach out and wave, "Let's go."
She repeated the words again: "Ajarn is waiting for you."
Emerging from the wall were the buyers who had been spying from the houses. Their eyes were empty and dark, like walking corpses, unmoved by Nezha's threats. The ghost children peeked out from the Buddha amulets, all chuckling. These were mortals being manipulated; he couldn't kill them. For the first time, Nezha felt utterly powerless. Frustrated, he clicked his tongue, unable to use his Wind Fire Wheels in the confined space, and could only look up and shout to Pingyu, "Wait for me."
"She can't wait for you."
A volunteer answered quickly, then denied it: "Ajarn can only serve one person at a time. You can wait here, or you can go back and wait."
After saying that, everyone made a gesture and said in unison, "Please make yourself at home!"
Pingyu glanced at Nezha, realizing that this stalemate wasn't going to work. Nezha didn't receive a response from Pingyu; instead, the girl grabbed the floating red silk and said, "Don't be afraid, the Hun Tian Ling is with me."
Nezha paused.
He took a deep breath and flung the gold ring in his hand toward Ping Yu.
As if venting its anger, the Qiankun Ring slid along the top of the stairwell, spitting out sparks before finally landing on the girl's head.
“Now the Universe Ring is yours too.” Nezha’s gaze never fell on the human wall or the volunteers; it was always fixed on Ping Yu.
Pingyu held onto the hoop and followed the volunteers upstairs.
The moment she moved away from the floor, it was as if a switch had been flipped in the eyes of the "human wall" members, their roughness fading away and a new light shimmering within them.
Nezha didn't chase after him, but instead backed out of the building.
The iron gate slammed shut in front of him, the door closing, and Pingyu was swallowed up by the building. Nezha was no longer the child he once was. As the vanguard of Xiqi, this matter was nothing more than pulling a thorn from his finger. His only difficulty was that most ordinary people in modern times couldn't be killed. Nezha didn't understand why there were so many laws in this era. He knew that in their land, if someone who worshipped evil spirits died, it was simply their own fault, and no one would hold them accountable.
One by one, the red cloth bundles began to collapse, and the old woman who had opened the door earlier emerged again, carrying a child. She noticed someone had come out but wasn't carrying a Buddhist amulet, and her expression softened slightly. Then, seeing that only Nezha was there, a subtle expression of regret appeared on her face.
Since the elderly woman at the incense and candle shop was acquainted with the volunteers and served as the doorman, Nezha assumed she knew something. Although Nezha hadn't spoken during the ride-hailing car's conversation, he had overheard everything the driver said. The driver mentioned that Tai Shi had rented a nearly bankrupt incense and candle shop on Baishui Street and revived it in just six months. He didn't reveal where the shop's owner had gone afterward, but the elderly woman who both ran the shop and possessed the building's keys seemed highly suspicious.
The old man exhaled several breaths, trying to burrow back into the red silk. But then he saw the bright young woman approach and slam her palm heavily onto the table.
*Smack*
The incense and candles in the shop all trembled.
Nezha cut to the chase: "Who exactly are you?"
The old lady looked at him with her clear, dull eyes.
What do you know?
The baby in the swaddling clothes kicked its leg and opened its mouth.
"What do you want to do to Pingyu?"
Nezha's relentless pursuit caused the baby to suddenly burst into tears. The child's piercing cries were heart-wrenching, and the old man, disregarding Nezha, quickly began to soothe the child.
"Don't cry, don't cry, baby, don't cry."
The old woman rocked the swaddled baby again and again, her expression almost obsessive. Nezha knew that arguing with an elderly person trying to soothe a child would only lead to trouble. He patiently waited for the baby's cries to subside, and saw the infant briefly open its eyes as it rubbed its eyelids.
Nezha saw a patch of deathly blackness.
His eyes were as black as those of the people in the hallway controlled by the amulets, perhaps even more so. Black as ink, black as a moldy patch. The next second, the old woman recoiled in fright. The boy flipped onto the table, grabbing her shoulder with one hand and cupping the child's face with the other.
“Your child has lost his soul,” Nezha stared into her eyes, his gaze clear and sharp as a mirror: “If you don’t find it, his body will rot away.”
The old woman abruptly pulled herself out of his grasp, shrinking back into the red silk.
"Go away, go away."
She repeated herself, trying to shoo him away: "I'm just a doorman, you can go now."
“I can help you,” Nezha said without moving. “Calling back the soul is a piece of cake for me. Just tell me what kind of people those people are, and I can guarantee your child’s safety.”
Before the old lady could react, the leopard-skin bag at his waist began to shake.
I almost forgot about it.
Nezha pulled out the infant spirit in front of the old man.
The infant spirit captured by the boy wasn't there to cause trouble; instead, it pleaded for Nezha's life.
"Grandma," he seemed somewhat afraid of the child in the old woman's arms, and when he called out, he would avoid the hands that were holding the child.
Ordinary people, whose eyes are not yet open, should theoretically be unable to see ghostly children. However, those who run incense and candle shops deal with funerals year-round and are usually able to communicate with the spirit world. People who communicate with the spirit world can see ghosts and spirits; if someone were to say that she was guarding the door down there unaware that this was a "demon's lair," Nezha truly wouldn't believe it. The infant spirit's attitude was one of familiarity with the old woman.
He had just started to speak when the old man raised his hand, signaling him to pause.
The old man put the swaddled baby back in the stroller, sat on a small stool, covered the baby's ears, and said, "Weren't you bought? Why did you come back?"
The Thai master's counter was filled with amulets, but the old woman's answers suggested she knew the origin of each one. The infant spirit shook its head, pointing its short, dark hand at Nezha and saying, "He is not human."
The old man didn't answer, but objected to Nezha, saying, "You don't look like a ghost."
“I am an immortal,” Nezha said, maintaining his posture of sitting on one leg on the platform, pointing into the air: “But I should be conferred a godhood here.”
He used fire, and also had a gold ring and red silk.
Investiture of the Gods?
A bold guess impulsively surfaced in their minds. The old man shakily got to his feet, then knelt on the ground, his legs trembling: "You are the Crown Prince...?"
"Um."
Nezha answered readily, as if it were no big deal.
The infant spirit was stunned for a long time, then its eyes lit up with wild joy. It tugged at its fingertips and stammered, "Really? You're the Crown Prince?"
It even used polite language, asking, "Could you please help us?"
The old woman, quick-witted as ever, immediately pulled a huge cardboard box from under the counter. She scooped it out and found it overflowing with countless incense sticks. Holding the incense, she repeatedly kowtowed and pleaded, "Your Highness, please help us! That damned Thai master, Ajarn, he's a beast... He not only harms people but also eats them. This ninety-year-old man steals people's vital essence to revive himself, and absorbs women's yin energy for his cultivation. We're burning all this incense and these candles for you!"
The incense sticks spilled from her bosom as she moved. When a person kowtows, it's as if they're divining; her body is like the divination stick container in Pingyu's hand, which she shakes under the watchful eyes of others.
one time.
The girl behind the tube is smiling.
Two times.
The girl touched the joint of the fake face on her neck, grabbed it, and peeled it off completely.
Three times.
If a person is anemic, their skin will turn a deathly yellow. But his skin was like paint on a wall, a pale gray. The man had tattoos starting from the corner of his eye, spreading down to his collar. His appearance was different from before; the skin that once belonged to the round-faced volunteer had been peeled off and began to collapse and shrink, finally becoming a wrinkled, filthy mass. The only thing he had in common with the other person was the old-fashioned volunteer uniform he was wearing.
"You can open it now," the man said gently.
Ping Yu exerted force with his wrist, and a bamboo skewer shot forward.
She has arrived on the tenth floor.
When the volunteers arrived, there were only a few scattered people inside. It was a simple waiting room. However, the furnishings were mostly made of mahogany, exuding a relaxing and calming atmosphere. Ping Yu's eyesight was now quite good; with just a glance, he could tell that any piece of clothing these people wore cost at least six figures.
The volunteer led her to the innermost room.
Inside were various statues of deities, from smallest to largest, as if countless Buddhas were watching their every move. The volunteer sat on the tiger-skin chair in the center and was asked to draw lots.
The volunteer was Ajarn (Thai Master) himself.
Pingyu did not resist and obediently picked up the divination sticks.
She reached out her hand, but didn't intend to lift the skewer. Ajarn looked at Pingyu's actions in surprise, and the girl said, "Don't rush, do you think this is good or bad?"
Ajarn said, "Good or bad is all up to fate. If it's good, I will also bless you."
Ping Yu snorted coldly and removed the bamboo skewer.
The words "major disaster" are clearly carved on the long, vertical bamboo stick.
“If that doesn’t work, I’m willing to interpret it for you for free,” Pingyu said, picking up a divination stick and holding it in her hand, the words “major disaster” clearly meant to be etched into his eyes. Ajarn’s expression remained unchanged, and Pingyu inwardly admired his patience. But in an instant, a cold touch struck the back of her hand. Pingyu instinctively tried to pull her hand away, only to find that the other person was incredibly strong; no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t budge him.
"Then help me untie it, Miss." Ajarn gently took Pingyu's hand.
His fingertips moved teasingly, trying to slip between her fingers.
Author's Note: Finally finished the outline! Daily updates resume!
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