71. Chen Fengyun Makes His Move

“Mr. An, although I have some knowledge of feng shui and the Eight Trigrams, I am not very skilled at catching ghosts. I can scare off ordinary spirits, but when it comes to a thousand-year-old malicious ghost like this, I’m powerless. All I can do is pray for good fortune,” the old Daoist said, trembling with fear.

At that moment, the female ghost’s form slowly materialized, transforming into a fierce apparition clad in ancient attire, her garments bearing the distinctive style of the Tang Dynasty. Her face was terrifying to behold.

“My death was so unjust,” she cried. “Give me back my life!” The malicious ghost drifted in midair, weeping incessantly, blocking the path of the old Daoist and An Mingzhen, preventing them from leaving. The two men were petrified.

“Master, you have to think of something! If you can banish this ghost, I’ll give you a million!” An Mingzhen pleaded, his voice choked with terror.

“Mr. An, I truly have no way. If you can get this ghost to leave, I’d happily pay you a million myself!” The old Daoist, though fond of money, valued his life even more.

“What are we supposed to do? There’s only us in the house, and we can’t even get outside to find help.”

“Mr. An, didn’t your wife say earlier that a young man noticed something was wrong in your house? He hasn’t left yet, has he? Maybe he can deal with this ghost,” the old Daoist suddenly recalled the young man he’d met before. There was something about the young man’s aura that struck him as familiar, reminiscent of the lineage of Master Zhang whom he had encountered in the past. His eyes lit up, and he hurriedly spoke.

“Master, what are you saying? That young man is just my daughter’s friend. How could he know how to banish spirits or catch ghosts?” An Mingzhen was doubtful. This old Daoist was renowned across the southwestern provinces, revered as almost supernatural. If even he couldn’t handle the malicious ghost, how could a young man possibly succeed?

“Don’t worry, Uncle An. I’ll handle this ghost. You two go into the main hall. No matter what you hear, don’t come out unless I call you,” came a sudden voice. A figure leapt down from the third floor, landing before them and speaking directly to An Mingzhen.

An Mingzhen looked closely—it was indeed his daughter’s friend, the young man who had previously commented on the sinister air in the backyard. The young man’s expression was calm, showing not the slightest trace of fear before the terrifying ghost hovering in midair.

“May I ask, young man, what family’s legacy do you inherit? Do you need my help in dealing with this spirit?” the old Daoist asked, his eyes flickering with curiosity.

“Master, just protect Uncle An. Remember what I said: unless I call you, don’t come out, no matter what happens. If anything goes wrong, don’t blame me for not warning you,” Chen Fengyun replied, shaking his head and casting an ambiguous smile at the old Daoist.

“Rest assured, young man, I will protect Mr. An and his family,” the old Daoist answered quickly, recognizing the warning in Chen Fengyun’s words.

“Evil spirit, though your death was unjust, you must have harmed many people over the years. Now that I have encountered you, I will not let you go,” Chen Fengyun declared, pointing at the malicious ghost once the others had retreated to the hall.

“My death was so unjust,” the ghost wailed. “Give me back my life.” The female spirit sobbed and whimpered, her bleeding eyes fixed intently on Chen Fengyun. Sensing the spiritual energy emanating from him, she rushed toward him as if she had found the most delectable prey.

A resonant hum filled the air. Instantly, Chen Fengyun activated the Golden Bell Shield, a golden, bell-shaped aura enveloping him. The malicious ghost crashed against the barrier, unable to penetrate it; instead, her form became unstable from the impact.

“Who are you? Why do you thwart my purpose?” the ghost moaned.

“If you have lingered for a thousand years, you must have relied on some treasured artifact. Yet you have not cultivated your soul, but instead have brought harm to the living. Today, your time has come.”

Chen Fengyun wasted no more words. With a twist of his hands, a burst of flame appeared; spiritual fire, ignited from the energy of heaven and earth, capable of burning away many sinister entities.

The thousand-year-old ghost, however, proved formidable. She opened her gaping maw and blew forth an icy, evil wind, entangling with the spiritual fire. In the end, the flames were extinguished, but her cold breath dissipated as well.

“Abomination, surrender!” Chen Fengyun shouted. The power of the Sutra of Salvation infused his voice, enveloping the ghost in a strange energy that made her struggle and cry out.

“Who are you? How do you possess Buddhist powers?” the ghost screamed, retreating. The Buddhist arts held special strength against evil spirits; realizing Chen Fengyun’s mastery, she grew fearful, his shout shaking her very soul.

“Creature of chaos, cease your wickedness and accept your fate!” Chen Fengyun invoked the Sutra of Salvation once more, conjuring a massive phantom of the Buddha in the air, striking down upon the ghost.

The female ghost screamed; the black mist composing her body dissipated, and she twisted in midair, her face contorted in terror as she gazed at Chen Fengyun like a mortal before a nemesis.

“Om…” Chen Fengyun saw her attempting to flee and suddenly uttered the spiritual attack of the Buddhist Six-Syllable Mantra. A tremendous force pressed upon the ghost.

She screamed again, her form battered as though struck by a heavy blow, the black mist nearly gone. This time, she spun and fled, vanishing into a hidden spot in the mountain wall behind the villa.

“Fog, rise!” Chen Fengyun did not immediately pursue. He stomped the ground, summoning a thick mist from below that quickly enveloped the backyard, obscuring the view from above and below.

Then, using his divine sense, he searched the mountain wall and discovered an anomaly—a hidden ancient tomb containing an artifact that nourished souls, enabling the ghost to linger here for a thousand years and become so powerful.

“Sword, come!” Chen Fengyun called softly, and a beam of light shot from his forehead, transforming into a massive flying sword that plunged into the mountain wall. With a thunderous crash, it pierced a huge cavern into the stone.

Violent sounds echoed, shaking everyone inside the villa. The two men in the main hall watched the backyard nervously, while upstairs, his mother, An Jingru, and Zhang Qingyan huddled together, too frightened to approach the window.

“So you were hiding in there,” Chen Fengyun said coldly.