"Wow, there’s another one over there!"
"Wow, why are there so many all of a sudden?"
"There’s no end to them! I can’t possibly ferry them all!"
The young girl’s exclamations echoed endlessly by the streamside.
The ghosts lifted their dull eyes and glanced at each other, seemingly confused as to why they had come here.
More and more ghosts were guided to the afterlife by Jiang Ling’er. Her chanting of the Rebirth Mantra also became smoother and faster. Initially, it took about ten breaths to ferry a single human soul, but later on, an average of two breaths was enough. Dıscover more novels at 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝·𝘧𝙞𝙧𝙚·𝔫𝔢𝔱
An unknown amount of time passed. Jiang Ling’er had ferried over a thousand human souls in total, gaining much merit and even advancing her cultivation to the fourth level of Foundation Establishment.
But this all seemed to be far from over.
Wherever Jiang Ling’er went, a human soul was always waiting within ten steps to be ferried!
If those disciples from the Immortal Sects, who exhausted themselves chasing a single human soul, were to witness this scene, they would be shocked to the point of doubting their own existence.
Damn it all, comparisons are infuriating!
Just then, the Communication Token at Jiang Ling’er’s waist chimed.
Once it connected, Jiang Yourong’s figure slowly materialized.
"Hey, Auntie!" Jiang Ling’er said sweetly.
Jiang Yourong replied irritably, "You ungrateful girl, having fun all by yourself out there? Leaving me here to work myself to death..."
Hearing this, Jiang Ling’er stuck out her tongue sheepishly. "Sorry, Auntie! I’ll be right back!"
After ending the communication, Jiang Ling’er mounted her flying sword and shot into the sky. Her sword light tore through the clouds, and she vanished in an instant.
Watching the landscape fly by below her, Jiang Ling’er was in high spirits. What another fruitful trip this had been!
Suddenly, as she was flying over a gorge, the light from the flying sword under her feet dimmed. It began to speed up and slow down erratically before starting to shake violently.
"Not good... the flying sword is out of control!" Jiang Ling’er’s face turned pale. She desperately tried to change the hand seals, but to no avail.
She and her sword plummeted straight toward the bottom of the gorge.
In midair, a thought drifted through Jiang Ling’er’s mind.
This scene... why does it seem so familiar?
「Meanwhile, in Nanzhou.」
On the summit of Wendao Peak in the Mount Shu Immortal Sect, two figures sat across from each other, sipping tea and playing chess.
One of them, a white-haired elder with the air of an immortal, leisurely placed a stone on the board. "You seem to be in quite a hurry," he said slowly.
"I’m not in a hurry!" the person opposite him replied.
"I say you are in a hurry," the elder stated.
"Alright, fine, I’m in a hurry!"
"Then don’t be in such a hurry," the elder said.
He looked resentfully at the man before him—the Sect Master of Mount Shu Immortal Sect, whose fame was renowned throughout Nanzhou. "Foster Father," Zhuo Canglang said slowly, "I didn’t come here to trade witty remarks with you this time."
Perfected Daoxuan rolled his eyes. "How many times have I told you? Don’t call me Foster Father!"
Zhuo Canglang nodded. "Alright, Foster Father."
Perfected Daoxuan was clearly long accustomed to the shamelessness of his old friend’s disciple. He shook his head helplessly and said, "I can’t help you with this."
"Foster Father, I’m not asking for much! Truly, not much at all!" Zhuo Canglang insisted.
"What you currently possess is what you are fated to have," Perfected Daoxuan said. "It is destiny! Anything extra, even a single iota, would only bring you harm, not benefit!"
Upon hearing this, the black crow on Zhuo Canglang’s shoulder spoke up. "It’s one thing for those sons of bitches out there to say that, but how can you say it, Foster Father? Back in that great war, if our Sanqing Immortal Sect hadn’t held back the majority of the Demon Race’s main forces... how many people would your Immortal Sects and Cave Heavens even have left? You can’t just bite the hand that fed you, Foster Father! That’s a truly despicable thing to do!"
Perfected Daoxuan froze, several dark lines appearing on his forehead.
Zhuo Canglang raised a hand and slapped the black crow across the face. "Insolence! Is that any way to speak to Foster Father?"
He then turned his head and said with a completely serious expression, "But Foster Father, he does have a point, don’t you think?"
Perfected Daoxuan shot him an annoyed look but said nothing.
Seeing this, the white crow on his other shoulder began to speak, shaking its head sagely. "As the Sect Master of the Mount Shu Immortal Sect, Foster Father must naturally consider Mount Shu’s interests. For you to come here with such an outrageous request is deliberately putting him in a difficult position, is it not?"
It paused, then added in a somber tone, "If you ask me, we should just forget it. Let’s go find Junior Sister Luo Xuan to catch up on old times, and then we can head back."
At the mention of "Junior Sister Luo Xuan," Perfected Daoxuan’s eyebrows shot up. "You dare?!"
Zhuo Canglang backhanded the white crow. "What nonsense are you spouting? What old times? What heading back? How terrible would it be if Foster Father misunderstood and thought we were threatening him? Besides, even though Junior Sister Luo Xuan certainly wouldn’t refuse if I went to her, things haven’t reached that point, have they? And Foster Father hasn’t actually said no yet! Right, Foster Father?"
Perfected Daoxuan took a deep breath, his chest heaving. As a reclusive grandmaster of an Immortal Sect, there were few people in all of Nanzhou who could infuriate him to this degree. Coincidentally, Zhuo Canglang was one of them.
What made Perfected Daoxuan even more helpless was that his own precious pearl, the former Saintess of Mount Shu and the famed Fairy Luo Xuan, had ignored the advances of countless prodigies throughout Nanzhou, only to harbor a special affection for this scoundrel.
Perfected Daoxuan sighed, put down his chess piece, and asked, "How many do you want?"
Zhuo Canglang held up two fingers.
Perfected Daoxuan breathed a sigh of relief. "Eight, then."
Zhuo Canglang shook his head. "Eighty."
At these words, Perfected Daoxuan’s eyelid twitched violently. He looked ready to murder someone on the spot. Slamming his hand on the table, he roared, "You little brat, are you trying to use me as your supplier?!"
Eighty? The entire Sanqing Immortal Sect only had eighty of them in total