Chapter 82

"Mr. Michel, please don't worry, please calm down!"

Wang Zhong's words, delivered with the technique of Zen chanting, had a soothing effect. Michel's somewhat collapsed emotions gradually stabilized.

"Here, he cannot harm you, please don't worry!"

"Thank you, thank you, I lost my composure!"

Michel Reagan drank a steaming cup of coffee, and his emotions returned to normal. His eyes were bright as he looked at Wang Zhong, who in his heart was his only hope.

"There are two methods to solve this problem. The first method is to find a feng shui treasure site for you, using the power of feng shui to allow you to have your own offspring. However, this method only treats the symptoms, not the root cause, and your descendants will still be cursed."

"The second method is to perform a ritual to communicate with the giant python, to seek his forgiveness. This can not only break the curse but also gain the protection of the python spirit."

Wang Zhong provided two options based on Michel's situation.

"This problem has troubled me for a long time, I hope both methods can be carried out simultaneously!"

Although Michel did not understand some of the words, he clearly understood Wang Zhong's general meaning. He chose without hesitation to carry out both methods simultaneously.

"Alright, I need about three months to conduct the feng shui survey. I hope Mr. Michel can be patient!"

Wang Zhong nodded and discussed the feng shui survey time with Michel in advance.

"No problem, thank you!"

Michel felt a great relief when Wang Zhong accepted the task.

Michel had a vast commercial empire to control. After having lunch at the ranch, he returned to Sydney under the protection of his bodyguards.

Wang Zhong did not sleep with Ruolan that night because he needed to perform a ritual independently.

The method of entering the yin realm, also known as the method of entering dreams, is not only a technique of Daoism but can also be performed by Buddhism and immortals. Practitioners can communicate with ghosts and spirits in their dreams, thereby predicting the future. Many miraculous masters and seers use this method to make predictions.

For example, when you visit a certain master or great immortal, even before you speak, they know your name, where you live, and what you want to ask. Isn't that amazing? Although the Zhouyi can predict at a high level, most people who can predict the future use the method of entering the yin realm. However, because this method involves a large amount of yin energy, frequent use can be a significant burden on the practitioner's body and mind.

Wang Zhong, the Daoist master of the Wudang Nine Palace Sword School, is a legitimate descendant of Daoism, and his method of entering the yin realm is slightly different from the ordinary. Holding the ritual gesture and reciting the incantation, Wang Zhong lay diagonally on the bed. After an unknown period, he saw two Indian warriors with feather headdresses, holding spears, and painted in colorful patterns standing by the bed.

"Sir, Lord Zuma invites you!"

The two Indian warriors bowed and showed respect, their faces full of reverence. Although they spoke in Indian, Wang Zhong understood their meaning, which is one of the conveniences of communicating with ghosts and spirits. No matter what language they use, the practitioner can understand their meaning.

"Lead the way!"

Wang Zhong stood up from the bed and looked at himself in the mirror. He saw himself wearing a crimson crane robe, a yin-yang Daoist cap, holding the Wudang True Wu sword, and a Heavenly Master's seal hanging from his waist. Above his head and on his shoulders were three green lotus flowers, and his body was surrounded by a faint green light. He looked like a fully realized Daoist, no wonder the Indian warriors were so respectful.

Twelve golden-armored warriors with various expressions guarded him, these twelve being the Six Ding and Six Jia deities.

"Pay respects to the Daoist master!"

The twelve golden-armored guards bowed to Wang Zhong's spirit as it left his body.

"Rise!"

Wang Zhong said calmly.

"Yes!"

The golden-armored guards stood up, watching the Indian warriors warily. If they showed any sign of treachery, they would be immediately killed.

"Please, sir!"

The two Indian warriors led Wang Zhong directly through the wall.

Outside the villa, an Indian-style carriage was parked, pulled by a bone horse without flesh, and a bronze chariot decorated with Indian motifs. The most amazing thing was that there was a green flame in the bone horse's eye sockets and on the chariot's wheels.

Behind the chariot was a black trail.

"Sir, please get in the carriage, Lord Zuma has been waiting for a long time!"

Wang Zhong patted the sword at his waist, feeling confident, and stepped onto the carriage without hesitation.

The bone horse started to trot at the warriors' urging. The wheels turned, leaving a black trail on the ground. The two warriors looked back in fear for a while before they calmed down. Wang Zhong looked back curiously but saw nothing. The bone horse moved slowly but easily crossed thousands of miles.

When the chariot slowed down, Wang Zhong found himself in a large Indian camp. Under the light of the bonfires, there were Indian warriors painted in oil and wearing feather headdresses everywhere.

Although the Indian warriors looked fierce, none dared to approach the carriage.

The two Indian warriors driving the carriage whipped any warrior who tried to get close, and each whip made the flames on the Indian warriors' bodies dim.

"Sir, we have arrived, Lord Zuma has been waiting for a long time!"

The carriage stopped in front of the largest tent in the camp, and the two warriors got off and said respectfully.

The tent door, which had been closed, was now lifted. Inside the large tent, dozens of wild boar lamps were lit, making it as bright as daylight. Wild boar fat can be used to make oil, which is often used for lighting. A banquet was being held inside the tent, with stronger Indian warriors wearing three feather headdresses kneeling on both sides. In front of them were plates of roasted meat and fragrant wine. In the center, a tall, muscular man with six feather headdresses and a giant snake tattoo covering his body was kneeling. This man was undoubtedly Lord Zuma.

"Welcome our guest from afar!"

As Wang Zhong looked at Zuma, Zuma also noticed Wang Zhong in his Daoist robes and stood up, smiling.

"Guest from afar, please take your seat!"

Wang Zhong then noticed that there was a table with wine and meat prepared for him at the lower end of Zuma's position. He didn't hesitate, walked over, and knelt at the table, his back straight and his eyes forward.

"I believe the great spirit already knows my purpose. I want to be a mediator for the Reagan family."

"The white demons destroyed my descendants and desecrated our sacrifices. We will not rest until they are destroyed, we will not rest until they are destroyed!"

Before Zuma could speak, the Indian warriors kneeling below stood up in a rage, shouting.

These enraged warriors were likely the ancestral spirits of the Indians. Strong warriors, after death, if worshipped by their descendants, would become ancestral spirits protecting the camp. The power of the ancestral spirits varied based on their achievements in life and the degree of worship. Wang Zhong's face showed no change, and he stared straight at the kneeling Zuma. He believed that Zuma had invited him here with the intention of reconciliation.

Sure enough, Zuma gently placed his wine cup on the table, and the enraged ancestral spirits instantly fell silent.

"Noble guest, the white demons destroyed the tribe I protected and killed me with their swords and spears. So I cursed their family to have no descendants."

"Several hundred years have passed, and the outside world has changed greatly. My hatred has also faded."

"Enemies should be reconciled, not held in enmity. Great spirit, are you willing to lift the curse?"

Wang Zhong looked at Zuma and asked with a smile.

"Our descendants have been enslaved and assimilated by the white demons. Those who remember and worship us are becoming fewer, and our power is weakening. Strong warriors are becoming weak, and weak warriors are disappearing. Our Great Snake tribe once had ten thousand strong warriors, but now there are fewer than three thousand. In a few decades, our Great Snake tribe will disappear from history like other tribes."

Zuma did not answer Wang Zhong's question but instead spoke with a pained expression. The three-feathered warrior ancestral spirits below also let out mournful cries.

"Souls, return, souls, return!"

The ancestral spirits sang a mournful Indian song, the general meaning of which was to remember the past, mourn the dead, and yearn for the future.

At first, one ancestral spirit sang, and slowly all the ancestral spirits in the tent joined in. The warriors in the camp, being the weakest and most likely to dissipate, felt the song most deeply. All the warriors in the camp joined in, their voices even more mournful.

The Indian lament!

This was the sorrow of the Indian soul!

"What can I do to help you?"

Feeling the sorrow of the Indian ancestral spirits, Wang Zhong also felt a sense of sadness. In an era where the Way of the Gods has declined and faith is lacking, survival is the first priority for ancestral spirits with weak powers and faith.

"We need to be worshipped. Only faith can sustain us!"

Zuma stood up, his face full of excitement.

"If the Reagan family can build a temple for us and worship us, I will not only lift the curse but also become their guardian spirit, protecting them from evil."

"If they worship us, we will guard them day and night!"

The three-feathered warriors stood up from behind their tables and solemnly swore.

"I will inform Michel Reagan of the great spirit's request."

Wang Zhong also stood up and said solemnly.