Chapter 40: Demonic Aura!
Chen Hao led Suisui into Wufang Monastery, completely unaware of the chaos erupting behind them. He only heard a clamor and frantic voices, including someone shouting for an ambulance.
“It’s so peaceful here!”
Ignoring the commotion outside, Chen Hao stepped inside and found the monastery surprisingly serene. Although there were many visitors, most were tourists who consciously maintained a respectful quiet as they offered their prayers.
The deities venerated in Daoist temples generally followed a similar pattern, with the Three Pure Ones typically occupying the highest position.
Since this story isn’t a xuanhuan or cultivation novel, detailed descriptions of the temple’s layout and religious rituals are omitted for brevity.
“Papa, the Spiritual Qi here is the densest we’ve felt since we came to the mountain,” Suisui said, wrinkling her nose as she sensed the unusually concentrated Spiritual Qi in the air.
Although imperceptible to ordinary people, the Spiritual Qi’s environmental effects influenced them profoundly. It induced a sense of inner peace, sharpened their minds, and brought about numerous subtle benefits.
This potent effect explained why Wufang Monastery attracted so many eager pilgrims. The people meditating cross-legged outside the mountain gate weren’t just putting on a show; they genuinely sought to cultivate within Wufang Monastery.
This accumulation of word-of-mouth reputation also brought substantial economic revenue to Wufang Monastery.
Ding~dong!
A melodious and crisp bell chimed, and the tourists throughout the monastery instantly adopted pious expressions, as if welcoming someone’s arrival.
Chen Hao craned his neck, feeling somewhat out of place among the devout crowd. But what could he do? As a straight man, he fundamentally lacked any spiritual beliefs. Whether it was Buddha, God, or any other deity, he trusted himself far more.
Oh, right! Now he also believed in his daughter, Suisui. That was beyond any doubt. Heh heh, she’s so worth it!
Under the collective gaze of the crowd, an elderly man with silver hair and a youthful face emerged from the inner hall, clad in Daoist robes and wearing the Five Peaks Crown, exuding an otherworldly, immortal aura. He truly looked the part.
“Whoa!”
“This really gives off that Taishang Laojun farted—celestial gas drifting everywhere vibe!”
Chen Hao couldn’t help but exclaim the moment he saw the old Daoist priest appear.
“Esteemed fellow Daoists, your presence honors Wufang Monastery. Last night, this humble Daoist received a divine decree in a dream from the Celestial Master. As fate has brought us together, I shall share it with you all!”
The old Daoist priest flicked the horsetail whisk in his hand, his fingers forming a mudra, striking a dignified and ceremonial pose.
Chen Hao inquired with a nearby tourist and learned that this was actually the abbot of Wufang Monastery, known as Daoist Wufang. Rumor had it that the old Daoist was over a hundred years old, having lived since the monastery’s founding to the present day. In the eyes of ordinary people, he was a “living immortal.”
Wasn’t the reason so many people, even those willing to spend exorbitant sums, sought to join Wufang Monastery precisely to seek the path to eternal life?
Of course, whether such miracles were real, whether Daoist Wufang possessed genuine skill, or whether he truly was over a hundred years old remained unverified.
However, eyewitness accounts claimed that one year, thunderclouds had gathered above Heaven-Reaching Peak, and a bolt of lightning struck Daoist Wufang, who was sitting cross-legged on the main hall’s roof.
Initially, everyone assumed he would be charred to a crisp, but instead, they found that while his Daoist robe was tattered and torn, the Daoist himself was unharmed—even more vibrant and spirited than before.
This incident was hailed as a “miracle,” and the uninformed masses widely interpreted it as a cultivator’s “Tribulation Transcendence.”
Alas, without visual proof, the tale circulated widely through word of mouth, its authenticity uncertain. Yet many devout Daoists preferred to believe it, venerating Daoist Wufang as a “Celestial Immortal,” “Divine Immortal,” and so on. Consequently, Wufang Monastery’s reputation grew exponentially.
“Papa!”
“Hmm?”
“This guy actually has a little bit of spiritual power, but… it’s really weak!”
Although Suisui couldn’t compare to the fully realized Nine-Tailed Celestial Fox, her perceptive abilities were still formidable. She immediately recognized that Daoist Wufang wasn’t just a smooth-talking charlatan—he did possess some genuine ability.
However, even with her current Two-Tailed form, Suisui could easily keep Daoist Wufang completely under her thumb.
“Hmph, just as I thought, all talk and no substance. He’s not even as good as our Suisui. What a disgrace!”
Chen Hao curled his lip in disdain. He’d always suspected these so-called Daoists were unreliable, and now that his own daughter outshone them, it only reinforced his skepticism. How dare they preach when they couldn’t even measure up to her?
“Suisui, are you hungry? Want something to eat?” Rather than listening to Daoist Wufang spout incomprehensible nonsense, Chen Hao thought it would be better to grab a snack. After climbing the mountain for so long, his stomach was starting to grumble.
“Mm-hmm!”
Suisui, the little foodie, nodded eagerly at the mention of food.
Chen Hao took off his backpack, which had a special insulated compartment for storing cooked meals.
Down the mountain, Chen Hao happened upon a “Great H” chicken cutlet shop and bought two portions, stowing them in his backpack.
“…Man follows Earth, Earth follows Heaven, Heaven follows the Dao, and the Dao follows Nature…”
“Hmm? What’s that smell? It’s so fragrant!”
“Cumin! It’s the aroma of cumin!”
Daoist Wufang was preaching above when a sudden, savory aroma wafted down. Those with keen senses immediately recognized the distinctive scent of cumin.
“The Dao follows Nature… Could this… be the so-called ‘cumin flavor’?”
With a cumin-flavored chicken cutlet stuffed in his mouth and another held aloft, Chen Hao, noticing the growing number of gazes turning toward him, voiced his own interpretation of the Dao.
“Audacious! Who dares spout such nonsense before Daoist Wufang!”
Hearing Chen Hao’s words, which seemed to openly disrespect Daoist Wufang, the two Wufang Monastery Daoist guardians immediately stepped forward to reprimand him.
The Daoist pilgrims glared angrily. Daoist Wufang rarely appeared to preach, and to have someone disrupt his sermon was intolerable. They had come to hear his teachings; if the Daoist took offense and left, their entire journey would be wasted.
“Apologize to the Daoist master at once! Hurry up!”
“Exactly! What kind of manners are those, eating fried chicken inside the monastery? You… you do smell pretty good though…”
“If you don’t like it, get out! Don’t disturb us!”
Chen Hao curled his lip, surprised by how fiercely these people defended Daoist Wufang and their so-called Daoism. Had they truly gained some benefit from it?
“Suisui, let’s go.”
“Mm!”
If they don’t want me here, there are plenty of other places that will. Since he wasn’t welcome, Chen Hao saw no reason to stay. He had no interest in Daoism anyway; he’d only come out of curiosity, wanting to understand why Wufang Monastery attracted so many casual tourists.
Now, it seemed utterly unremarkable.
“Demonic energy!”
“Hold, you two!”
Just as Chen Hao was about to leave Wufang Monastery with Suisui, Daoist Wufang suddenly stood up, flicked his whisk, and glared at them with sharp, piercing eyes. He spoke in a low, urgent tone.
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