Chapter 4

ps: Three updates today, an extra update for donations, I'll keep my promise, new book uploaded, seeking collections and recommendations, currently 23rd in the Immortal category, let's all work together to boost it, if we can get to 15th, there will be an extra chapter.

Huddled in a corner, Ning Wuxie listened to the footsteps outside the door. After waking up, his spiritual senses seemed to have become even more acute. The people speaking were still about a hundred meters away from the small house, but he could clearly hear what they were saying.

Even more, Ning Wuxie could distinguish four people from the chaotic footsteps, walking toward him. One of them gave him an extremely dangerous feeling, making his heart race uncontsciously.

"Creak..."

Finally, the wooden door was pushed open, and the glaring sunlight outside shone on the huddled Ning Wuxie. Dust particles floated in the sunlight, and Ning Wuxie squinted to see the faces of the people who had come.

The one who pushed the door was a hunched old man about 1.6 meters tall, with gray hair, a weathered and yellowish face, and a messy beard. He wore a patched linen robe and straw shoes made of rice straw.

The old man was bowing, smiling obsequiously, and his right hand made a gesture inviting someone in. Ning Wuxie recognized this old man. In his dream, the old man was the village chief of the small village, with a son who studied at the village school. They had some grudges against each other, and the old man also harbored resentment toward him.

As Ning Wuxie looked at the old man, a slender figure blocked the sunlight. Ning Wuxie's gaze shifted to the slender figure, which was a man in his thirties. He had a topknot on his head, wore a blue Daoist robe that looked unusually large on his thin frame, and had round-toed cotton shoes on his feet. A cloth belt was tied around his waist, and a wooden sword with a yellow tassel hung from it.

The Daoist glanced around the room, wrinkling his brow at the strange smell, but still bent down and walked in. Behind him, two young Daoist boys, about fifteen or sixteen years old, with clear and bright eyes, followed closely. The old man stood cautiously beside the two boys, his eyes filled with fear as he looked at Ning Wuxie.

"Help him up, take him outside..." The Daoist frowned, unable to bear the strange smell in the thatched cottage, and instructed the village chief.

The village chief's sunken eyes flashed with panic, hesitating as he looked at the Daoist. "Daoist, he... he is a demon..."

"Hmm?" The Daoist glared coldly at the village chief. "Are you doubting my powers? A mere little demon is nothing to me. Do as I say, or do you think I would harm you?"

With that, the Daoist turned and walked a few steps outside, and the two young Daoist boys followed closely. The room was left with only the village chief and Ning Wuxie, and it suddenly became quiet.

Looking around nervously, the village chief shakily walked to Ning Wuxie's side, muttering phrases like "May the Great Deity protect me" while extending his right hand toward Ning Wuxie.

Because Ning Wuxie had his eyes squinted, the village chief didn't notice that he was already awake. Seeing nothing wrong, he grew a bit bolder, untied the grass rope binding Ning Wuxie's feet, and helped him up, walking him outside.

"Who would have thought this poor scholar would be so heavy."

Outside, the village chief cursed, looking respectfully at the Daoist waiting outside and smiling. "Daoist, what else should this old man do?"

"Since you're already awake, why pretend to be asleep?"

Ignoring the village chief, the Daoist stared at Ning Wuxie, who was leaning on the village chief's shoulder. His gaze was sharp like a blade, and it carried a cold, murderous aura.

"Ah, you're awake?"

Hearing the Daoist's words, the village chief suddenly pushed Ning Wuxie away, retreating to the side in shock. He tripped over a stone and rolled on the ground, kneeling awkwardly and continuously bowing to Ning Wuxie.

"Great Demon, this old man meant no offense, please forgive me, please forgive me..."

"Cough, cough..."

Pushed away by the village chief, Ning Wuxie staggered back a few steps. His body was too weak, and he coughed lightly but managed to steady himself. He looked up at the Daoist, bowed respectfully, and said, "Greetings, Daoist."

"Have we met before?"

The Daoist was somewhat surprised, staring intently at Ning Wuxie's eyes, as if trying to discern something from them.

"When I was twelve, I accompanied my mother to Baiyun Temple to seek a fortune, and I met the Daoist once. After that, I passed the examination for a child scholar, and I have been deeply grateful to the Daoist. How could I ever forget the face of my benefactor? Benefactor, please accept my bow."

Ning Wuxie's eyes were clear and pure, like a mountain stream, without any impurities. He knelt down and bowed deeply to the Daoist. This was the carefully planned story he had thought of after seeing the Daoist.

Half true, half false. The original Ning Wuxie had indeed been very grateful to the Daoist and always regarded him as a benefactor, which was why he immediately thought of the Daoist's background when he saw him. However, the current Ning Wuxie had merged with another person's consciousness, and his thoughts were no longer as simple as gratitude.

From the village chief's behavior and his conversation with the Daoist, Ning Wuxie still didn't know exactly what had happened, but to escape his predicament, he could only rely on the Daoist. In other words, the Daoist now held the