Chapter 7

Just as they shouted, the scene suddenly changed, and the word 'good' got stuck in their throats—these guys looked at each other, a chill rising up their spines!

The leader was taken aback for a moment, then he gripped the handle of the machete tightly and pressed it down with all his might. His eyes bulged, his cheeks puffed up, and his teeth ground together, but the blade seemed stuck in stone, immovable!

His face turned bright red, and suddenly he let go and stepped back a few paces. When he focused, he saw that the heavy iron machete, which weighed several pounds, was suspended in mid-air, motionless!

The night was silent, and the sound of Chen Pizi slapping himself became even clearer. This scene, the sound of him hitting his face, the cart full of ghostly items, and the machete hanging in mid-air all intertwined... everyone was stunned!

The only one who still moved was the old man with the bulging eyes. He pulled out a tobacco pipe from his waist, lit it with a match, and took a satisfying puff, then grinned like a duck being choked.

The ropes had somehow come loose.

"Y-You, what are you?" The leader, who had traveled far and wide and had some experience, suddenly remembered something and quickly pulled out a jade Guanyin pendant he had snatched from somewhere. Holding the pendant, he seemed a bit braver and pointed at the old man, shouting, "Are you human or ghost? Confess, or I'll hit you with this jade pendant!"

There was a legend in the countryside that if a ghost was hit by a jade pendant of Guanyin, Buddha, or a divine beast, it would be destroyed and never reincarnated. Many bandits wore such pendants to protect themselves from the vengeful spirits of those they had killed. The leader's words seemed to remind the others, and they quickly took out various amulets from their bodies, including wuzhu coins, peach wood Guanyin, stone-carved Buddha heads, and books of spells—anything they had, though the value was much lower.

They must have taken the old man for a ghost?

The old man took two puffs of his pipe and then asked with a sidelong glance, "You've done plenty of killings and robberies before, why are you afraid of ghosts now?" He shook his head, "You're mistaken. Ghosts? ...hehehe..." He laughed as if he had heard the funniest joke, but didn't say more, just pointed with a strange glint in his eyes!

As he pointed, the season seemed to change instantly!

The scorching summer disappeared, and the world entered the coldest part of winter in a moment. The bandits clearly saw white frost forming on the grass around them, and their breath turned into white smoke. The cold crept up their necks and wrists, seeping into their clothes, bone-chilling. Even these bold bandits broke out in cold sweat, and the timid ones like Ma San even wet their pants!

Because they almost simultaneously saw countless white mists appear before them, surrounding the cart from a distance of several meters. The mists kept changing and rolling, revealing clear faces and features.

"Clang!"

No one knew who dropped their weapon first, but it quickly spread like a plague. The men threw down their weapons and fell to the ground, begging for mercy:

"Sir, spare my life..." "I have a family to support..." "I was forced into this..."

All kinds of cries and sobs filled the air, each one more pitiful than the last, each one more intense than the last!

The old man with the bulging eyes didn't look at them, just waved his hand toward the distance, "You, you recognized our Ghost Market flag, right? You! Come here."

Chen Pizi, who had been slapping himself, watched closely. Seeing the old man wave, he didn't hesitate, rolling and crawling to kneel before him, "I didn't touch anything, Master, I didn't touch anything..." After a few sobs and seeing the old man didn't speak, he jumped up and kicked Ma San in the face, knocking him over, and shouted, "It was him! Master, it was him! The idea to rob your cart was his, and he was the one who set the ambush, all of it was him..."

His anger rose, and he pounced on Ma San, beating and kicking him fiercely, as if he wanted to kill him on the spot. Ma San didn't dare to fight back, just curled up and screamed like a pig being slaughtered.

The old man ignored the scene, just continued smoking his pipe. When he finally finished, he knocked the pipe on the cart, "Stop, don't kill him."

Hearing this, Chen Pizi was delighted but quickly knelt again, burying his head in his lap, "Master, spare my life, spare my life!" He thought the old man didn't want him to kill Ma San, which meant he might spare them, giving him a chance to live.

His voice lost some of its fear and gained some confidence.

Unexpectedly, the old man, with his pipe in his waist, asked, "Do you know who I am? Tell them!"

"You are the Master of the City God Temple on Que'er Mountain!" Chen Pizi seemed to be answering the old man and explaining to the others. He glanced at the leader and quickly bowed his head again, "You are all great masters, gods, and Buddhas! You command ghosts and monsters like livestock, I know..."

"Hehehe," the old man laughed, waving his hand, "Not as mystical as you say. We are just people who do business with wandering spirits. We can talk to them and ask for their help when we go out—nothing special."

This sounded like a humble reassurance, but it terrified the men even more—talking to ghosts casually? That alone could scare anyone to death!

The old man looked at the bandits bowing like garlic, took a few steps forward, "Why were you slapping yourself on the ground just now? What did that mean?" He ignored the bowing men and casually threw out some incense sticks from his pocket. Strangely, the thin incense sticks, though thrown with little force, immediately stuck straight into the hard ground, standing firm and trembling slightly.

No one noticed this!

"I...," Chen Pizi was at a loss for words, mumbling incoherently, too softly for anyone to hear.

"Hmph!"

The old man threw out all the incense sticks, clapped his hands, and, annoyed by the man's babbling, his face darkened.

Chen Pizi immediately trembled and wailed, "I'll tell you! I'll tell you everything! It was Wang Daxiong from the neighboring village who said it. He saw your flag at night, knelt down, and slapped himself, and his life was spared, so... so..."

"So you did the same?" The old man laughed, remembering the villager he met last time when he was buying goods—maybe that was the Wang Daxiong Chen Pizi mentioned. Yes, his head was indeed a bit big!

The old man knew that Wang Daxiong's life was spared not because he knelt and slapped himself, but because he was a simple farmer with no vengeful spirits following him, so nothing happened to him. In these chaotic times, bandits and robbers were as common as cattle, and even honest people might turn to robbery. To put it bluntly, who didn't have a few lives on their conscience?

The people in the Ghost Market had some skills, but they were here to avoid the world, not to be saviors. However, if they encountered truly evil people, they might deal with them casually.

...Just like today!

The old man took a deep breath and made a hand sign, "Wang Daxiong's life was spared not because of his actions, but because..." He paused, a hint of pain in his eyes, "...he had never killed anyone, so no vengeful spirits pursued him!"

"Ah?!!"

"May you find your own salvation!" The old man's hands moved quickly, performing ten wheels, a thousand leaves, and three secrets, "Life and death are in your own hands!"

The men, who had been watching the old man and Chen Pizi, couldn't hold back any longer. The leader jumped up first, followed by the others, their eyes filled with fear as they stared at the old man. Someone shouted, "Run!"

The men scattered like a pack of wild dogs!

"Can you escape?" The old man muttered, his hands moving quickly:

"Descend! Three Worlds Samaya Assembly! Nine Words of Lin!" He roared, making the hand sign of the Immovable King, "Lin!"

Instantly, the incense sticks he threw out burst into flames, burning the eighteen sticks to ashes that floated in the air. As if caught by invisible hands, the ashes were instantly scattered, and countless voices shouted in unison:

"Grant me power, grant me form, past grievances, now resolved—thank the Master of Yin and Yang for allowing us to take revenge!"

The white mists that had been floating turned into incomplete, fierce human forms. They bowed to the old man and then screamed as they chased after the bandits!

These ghosts were the vengeful spirits of those who had been disemboweled, heart-torn, liver-taken, and beheaded by the bandits. They had been following but unable to take revenge. Now, with the opportunity, their rage erupted. They rushed over, and the cries of agony that filled the wilderness were deafening!

"Revenge has its source, and debts must be repaid. After you take your revenge, your wishes will be fulfilled, and you can move on to the next life!" The old man sighed and chanted:

"I come from the boundless void, leading the boundless, the auspicious clouds open the gate of life, the auspicious smoke seals the gate of death, the beginning of the mysterious, to connect with the auspicious, transcending the immortal source, naturally clear... I call upon the ghosts of the underworld to save all sins, to relieve all calamities, to subdue wandering spirits, to guide them to the three paths of reincarnation, to eliminate karma and repay debts!"

As he finished, the cries and groans in the night had not yet subsided. He didn't look back, just threw out some ghost money, lit three incense sticks, and placed them in the pile of money. Then he got on the cart and tapped it with his pipe, "Let's go."

He ignored the hellish scene behind him, where the ghosts avenged their wrongs!

Creak, creak, creak...

The old donkey moved slowly.

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