Along the way, Chen Yi tirelessly sought the source of the changes, but never could he have imagined that it all stemmed from a single fleeting thought of his.

Because he had taken Yin Tingxue away, he secretly plotted to remove the demonic sect members in the Capital City. It was precisely due to this that the fate of the underworld diverged significantly from that of his previous life.

One thought arises, triggering countless others—a chain reaction.

After his revelation, Chen Yi felt deeply absurd.

Yet, at times, the world itself is inherently absurd.

Meanwhile, the fight near the Mad Monk was nearing its end.

The shop assistant, though capable of easily killing the martial artists accompanying the Mad Monk, nonetheless struggled mightily against this former high monk of the Buddhist sect.

Within merely a dozen moves, the shop assistant found himself unable to defend, and the Mad Monk seized upon an opening. With a single strike of his meditation staff, the golden chains gleamed brightly, accompanied by the echoing chants of scripture, binding the assistant firmly in place.

The shop assistant struggled desperately, his bones crackling with the sound of breaks and strain, yet he remained fixed in place.

The Mad Monk chanted, "Namo Amitabha Buddha."

Then, he broke into uproarious laughter, using his meditation staff to strike at the assistant's head repeatedly, like a mole in a burrow.

Chen Yi, observing this scene, shifted his gaze back to the two-headed Shopkeeper.

The two-headed Shopkeeper was utterly terrified, his already pallid face turning ghostly white, unrecognizable as human. His two mouths trembled as he stuttered:

"We… we're just extras on the stage. Don't kill us… don't kill us!"

"Answer my next question thoroughly, and I might consider it."

The left mouth quickly chimed in, "Yes, yes, ask anything, Master Song."

"Why does this ghost town appear here?" Chen Yi asked.

To King Chujiang, who had been seized and possessed by the late emperor, such demonic sect members surely needed a place to settle. However, a ghost city would have sufficed, rather than a location blocking the crucial path to the ghost city.

"Here… here rests a seal on a Chaotic Beast."

"A Chaotic Beast?"

"Indeed, yes indeed. We built this ghost city here initially to reinforce the seal on the Chaos using the techniques of the Holy Sect. As for how exactly it was done, we don't know the specifics. The essence of it is feeding the Chaos with souls."

Chen Yi, mulling this over, speculated aloud, "Do the three souls and six spirits of a Taoist have especially desirable effects?"

Both faces showed expressions of shock, quickly replying, "Absolutely, absolutely. Taoists often nurture their souls, making them the ideal choice. As for martial artists' souls—they lack flavor but are wasteful to discard. Monks' souls have adverse effects instead."

Understanding the cause of the ghost town, Chen Yi continued asking more questions.

The two-headed Shopkeeper, not daring to conceal the truth, spilled all the information he had.

This ghost town, blocking the path to the ghost city and filled with various shops and establishments, exists to harvest the souls of those heading to the ghost city.

Except for a minority of people, nearly everyone's soul has been harvested within the past century.

If any demonic sect member failed to meet the required soul quota, they would lose part of their own soul.

Whether it was the shop assistant or the two-headed Shopkeeper, both were people missing a portion of their soul.

As for the soul-harvesting magic, Chen Yi learned from their words that,

this magic was not created by the demonic sect—it originated from King Chujiang!

Chen Yi continued asking more questions, but whether it was the specific circumstances of the ghost town or deeper intelligence, the two-headed Shopkeeper knew nothing of it.

The reason was simple: the Shopkeeper had stayed in the inn all year round, never setting foot outside even once.

"One last question—how does Elder Li and the other demonic sect members perceive me?"

The right mouth was about to evade the question, but the left mouth eagerly answered:

"Benefactor—you're the savior of our Holy Sect! Elder Li has said many times that if not for you, the Eastern Factory Overseer wouldn't have died and the Saintess wouldn't have been preserved!"

"How does he know the Saintess was preserved?"

"Elder Li inquired of King Yan and learned while consulting him that the Saintess's fate remains intact."

Having obtained the crucial answer, Chen Yi had little hesitation left.

"Thank you both for your responses; now, please, have a safe journey."

Chen Yi folded his hands respectfully.

Both faces stiffened, speaking in unison:

"Didn't you say you'd consider sparing us?"

Calmly, he said, "I did consider it. And I decided—no."

With those words spoken, his hands struck down on the crowns of their skulls. The surge of energy fragmented their skullcaps, extinguishing their lifeforce completely.

Amid a sharp cracking sound, the grotesque body before him collapsed instantly, its burst of baleful energy was quickly smothered by the Buddha Light of the red-gold Shariputra relic.

Downstairs, the shop assistant saw this scene and turned ghostly pale.

Chen Yi rose slowly, turning to the second-floor guest room as he called:

"It's done and settled now."

Moments later, the female crown emerged from the guest room, descending the staircase with a serene and composed expression.

Chen Yi leapt lightly, landing beside the female crown.

Yin Weiyin turned slightly, choosing an angle hidden from others' view, quietly clutching the hem of his clothing.

Her expression remained unchanged, tranquil as water without ripples.

As fellow Taoists, this created a stark contrast with what was happening in the inn's main hall.

Just as Duan Lang's soul returned to its rightful place, he snapped awake, his complexion ghostly pale. Seeing Wang Yan's lifeless body intertwined with another man's in the kitchen, he stared blankly for a long time.

When he finally turned his head, his eyes were bloodshot, and he drew his sword to rush at the shop assistant:

"I'll kill you!"

The Mad Monk did not even turn his head as he swirled his sleeve.

A wave of energy rippled out, causing the unsuspecting Duan Lang to stagger back several steps, crashing into a chair, twisting his ankle, and falling to the ground.

"You—you…"

Duan Lang panted heavily for a long time, finally regaining a shred of sanity as he said:

"Why would an old monk save this wicked ghost?"

"I have some questions for him. Besides, it's convenient to capture a servant," the Mad Monk replied, clearly dismissive of Duan Lang's presence.

Duan Lang gritted his teeth, roaring, "But he killed my wife!"

The shop assistant's face grew even paler. Desperate for survival, he blurted out quickly, "She's not entirely dead yet—she isn't fully gone! If her soul is summoned back, she'll live again!"

These words rang loudly in everyone's ears.

Duan Lang's eyes momentarily filled with joy, but as his gaze shifted to the kitchen,

there lay the bodies—Wang Yan's intertwined with that martial artist, resembling a pair buried together in a shared grave. The symbolic red candle for their necromantic marriage still burned, its wax tears dripping steadily.

In his eyes, a hint of shadowy anguish emerged.

The shop assistant, fearful for his life, quickly added:

"I can summon her soul back! You and your wife have lived together lovingly for so long, your souls are naturally connected. Using the Sparrow Yin Soul as a catalyst will suffice. But once the necromantic marriage is forged, it's not easy to undo."

The Sparrow Yin Soul is one of the seven spirits within the human body.

Among Taoist practices, the three souls and seven spirits are crucial for cultivation; losing even one is akin to losing a limb.

Chen Yi, accompanying Yin Weiyin down the stairs, interjected coldly:

"It's not that it's hard to undo; it's simply that the price for you is steep."

The shop assistant froze, realizing that the two-headed Shopkeeper must have already divulged all his secrets to Chen Yi.

Chen Yi reached the ground floor and glanced toward the kitchen.

This True Martial Taoist and his wife had been warned by Chen Yi with a mere look upon entering, yet lacking vigilance, they still fell victim to tragedy. They had no one to blame.

He could have chosen not to say that warning.

But with Yin Weiyin at his side, who was now his fiancée and destined to be his wife, he couldn't help but speak.

Let it count as a shred of hope he had for destined lovers becoming united.

Both morally and emotionally, he had fulfilled his duties.

The Mad Monk loosened his grip on his meditation staff, and the shop assistant struggled to rise, crawling like a dog.

Facing Duan Lang, the shop assistant put on an overly obsequious grin.

Duan Lang's face remained frozen as he hesitated for a long while before saying:

"Let's—let's just forget it."

His voice was faint, but as a Fourth Rank martial artist, Chen Yi could hear it clearly. So too could the Mad Monk.

The shop assistant hesitated; was this True Martial Taoist hoping for his death? He collapsed to his knees immediately.

"Oh dear, sir, you must give me a reason! Summoning her soul requires only the Sparrow Yin Soul; losing the Sparrow Yin Soul doesn't mean it can't be regained, and separating from a necromantic marriage isn't too significant either!"

The shop assistant began groveling, pleading desperately as his knees trembled:

"Even if I'm half dead, I can bring her back! You two are so deeply in love, a heavenly couple, immortal lovers!"

Duan Lang only shook his head.

The Mad Monk interjected coldly:

"Stop babbling nonsense and wasting time. Speak plainly or keep silent. Amitabha Buddha."

Those words reverberated as Duan Lang glanced toward the kitchen, still seeing the red candle burn,

still seeing his wife's corpse…

And that other man's.

Having always avoided speaking, Duan Lang hesitated for a long time before leaning in and whispering in a faint, nearly inaudible voice:

"She… she… she's unclean!"

The shop assistant froze in place.

He stared at Duan Lang in disbelief.

Such an absurd reason?!

Duan Lang's face showed guilt, but his resolve was firm as he slowly stood, dusting off his Taoist robe.

He remembered,

when he had just begun his Taoist training, he had once said:

The common saying goes that monsters and ghosts are hard to fathom, but what is truly hard to fathom—ghosts or humans?

Yet in truth, what is truly hard to fathom,

is neither ghosts nor humans, but the human heart itself.

The Mad Monk reminisced about past events and sighed:

"It's not the wind moving, nor the banner—it's the human heart that moves…"

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