Chapter 402: The Mysterious Token! Heaven’s Might Descends, The Feng Shui Master and the Shabby Old Daoist

Scorching qi and blood surged from Li Yanchu’s palm, tearing through Hong Ling’s meridians and demonic power like wildfire consuming dry grass.

A second-realm fox demon was completely helpless before him, she couldn’t even struggle.

“A filthy fox leaving your mountain to bring calamity upon the mortal world. You’re courting death!” Li Yanchu’s voice thundered like divine wrath.

Everyone’s vision swam; their hearts nearly burst from the sound alone.

Hong Ling’s face drained of color, she had never imagined she could be overpowered with a single hand.

“Daoist master, spare me! I am of the Hu family, one of the Five Great Immortal Clans of Liaodong! I beg your mercy, exalted one!”

“How noisy.” Li Yanchu’s tone was glacial. His qi and blood roared again as he clenched his fist and smashed it down onto her head.

Bang!

Blood splattered everywhere. Hong Ling’s life was snuffed out instantly, and her form twisted and collapsed into that of a red-furred fox.

As for Sui Liang and the other thugs, their faces went pale with horror, their limbs ice-cold. In their eyes, Madam possessed vast divine powers, a true master of the Daoist arts. How could she have been killed with a single punch... and even turned into a red-furred fox?

“Daoist master... have mercy! We were only deceived into this!”

However, Li Yanchu snorted coldly.

Earlier, he had used his Qi Sight to survey the place. The courtyard was steeped in demonic aura, and these men bore the stench of blood and the shadow of vengeful spirits. Murderers, every one of them. They could not be spared.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Each casual punch carried the weight of a thousand catties. The three of them were struck so hard that their tendons snapped and bones shattered, and their life force completely extinguished!

“Thank you, Daoist master!”

Liu Yu struggled to his feet, his voice trembling. He had expected death, something far worse than death, even, yet this young Daoist he had met once before had descended like a god, slaying the demon with unbelievable power and saving them both.

“Mr. Liu,” Li Yanchu said evenly, “I was merely passing by when I sensed the demonic aura in your home. It seems fate wished that I intervene.”

Liu Yu bowed deeply in gratitude, and after witnessing Li Yanchu’s divine might, he told him everything about the truth of what had happened at the Lin estate and handed over the item he had escaped with.

Li Yanchu took the token and gazed down at it, his expression growing solemn and thoughtful.

The token was made of neither metal nor jade, and it was cool to the touch.

On the front, two ancient seal words read “

Heaven’s Might

”. On the back were engraved mountains and rivers, with auspicious clouds rising from the east, giving it an air of profound antiquity and grandeur.

“This is a treasure passed down through the Lin family for generations,” Liu Yu explained. “It was enshrined in the ancestral hall. That woman infiltrated the Lin household to steal it, but the young lady took it away first, otherwise it would have fallen into her hands.”

Li Yanchu frowned slightly in curiosity. That fox demon clearly excelled at enchantment arts, and Old Master Lin, being an ordinary mortal, should’ve fallen easily to her charms. How, then, had the token’s hiding place remained secret for so long?

When he voiced the question, the Lin family’s young lady answered, “My father also carried a protective talisman, gifted by a Daoist master. Perhaps that charm’s divine aura kept the demon from succeeding.”

Li Yanchu nodded faintly. The world was full of hidden adepts; even among dusty wanderers, there were many extraordinary people. It wasn’t strange that a Daoist would gift a family such a charm.

Still, he sensed the matter was far from simple. The fox’s infiltration tactics resembled those used by the White Marsh Demon Kingdom.

At that thought, he couldn’t help but regret not interrogating her before killing her.

“Mr. Liu,” Li Yanchu said solemnly, “I’ll go with you both and see this matter through.”

The orange cat shot him a sidelong glance.

This young Daoist... is way too busy!

***

Five days later, Li Yanchu finally returned to Qingyun Temple with the orange cat in tow. He looked travel-worn and weary, but his eyes gleamed brighter than ever.

The Lin family affair had been simple enough for him. From start to finish, the only true monster was Hong Ling herself. The rest were merely unscrupulous ruffians and thugs she had drawn to her side.

When he crippled Wang Dayong, the one who called himself the

Invincible Iron Palm

, with a single punch, the rest of those desperadoes didn’t dare utter another word.

In the jianghu, it was always the same:

whoever had the hardest fist had the loudest voice.

Once he purged the demonic energy from the Lin estate, he found that many had died unjustly and the family’s feng shui had been severely disrupted. Those things had to be set right.

Fortunately, that was precisely a Daoist’s specialty, and Li Yanchu handled it all before finally summoning his Cloud-Riding Immortal Art and flying back to Wei City, orange cat in hand.

In his robe he carried a land deed for a tea plantation in Xuzhou Prefecture, worth fifty to sixty thousand taels in annual income. This was something Miss Lin, who had regained control of the Lin family, insisted that Li Yanchu accept.

Once a fallen noblewoman fleeing for her life with her beloved guard, she now lived as though in a dream.

Tears of gratitude had filled her eyes as she pressed the deed into his hands.

“You scoundrel! You finally decided to come back!” The innkeeper stood at the doorway, hands on her hips, glaring daggers at him.

Hearing this, Li Yanchu turned and gave her a gentle smile. With his handsome features and that warm smile, the effect was devastating.

Every young woman and newlywed inside the inn blushed instantly. That face, at times, carried an even more devastating effect than any saber.

The innkeeper’s anger softened a little. She wasn’t the type to swoon over looks, but when your man happened to be

this

good-looking, it made forgiveness come a little easier.

Li Yanchu stepped forward and took a piece of ancient jade from his robe, handing it to her. “I brought this back for you.”

She accepted it; the jade was smooth and lustrous, radiating a timeless aura.

“Hmph. At least you’ve still got some conscience left.” Then her gaze fell on the orange cat behind him. “What a beautiful cat. You brought her back too?”

Li Yanchu nodded.

The orange cat, however, couldn’t even be bothered to acknowledge this outrageously beautiful woman and turned away without a word before walking straight into the Daoist temple.

The innkeeper fell silent, and her beautiful eyes narrowed into a dangerous arc as she studied the proud orange cat.

“Quite the personality,” she said calmly.

Li Yanchu only smiled faintly and said nothing. He pulled her aside and handed her the land deed for the tea mountain in Xuzhou Prefecture.

“Eh? That’s... quite a gift!”

A delighted smile lit up the innkeeper’s face. A whole tea mountain’s yearly income alone was at least tens of thousands of taels!

She turned toward her little inn, already wondering if she should shut it down and just stay home counting silver every day.

At a nearby table, a traveling swordsman wearing a bamboo hat and carrying a long sword glanced discreetly in her direction, and a faint tremor ran through his heart. What caught his eye wasn’t the tea mountain deed, but the ancient jade in the innkeeper’s hand.

His eyes, sharp as a hawk’s, flickered as he lowered his head to sip his tea.

“The Warm Sun Jade... To think I’d find a legendary treasure like that in a small place like Wei City.”

His breathing quickened slightly.

Jingle, jingle!

Then, a middle-aged feng shui master entered the Taiping Inn, the bells at his waist chiming softly as he walked before he sat down at a table. The two bronze bells hanging from his belt were engraved with mountains, rivers, birds, and beasts.

While Li Yanchu was still speaking with the innkeeper, another man walked in. It was a shabby old Daoist, a worn peachwood sword slung across his back, its edge dull from use.

The Taiping Inn welcomed all sorts each day: peddlers and porters, wandering swordsmen, wealthy merchants, and traveling scholars.

But these two newcomers... their eyes gleamed with hidden radiance. They were clearly cultivators.