Chapter 101: The Blank Sutra (An Extra Chapter Dedicated to the Sect Leader "Unrestrained001")

With Fang Mu's fist thrusting straight forward, his true energy surged into his arm.
“Tiger Strength Fist!”
A fiery red aura erupted behind Fang Mu, coalescing into a fierce tiger's head.
“Roar!”
A deep growl echoed from the snarling tiger head, and from its center, a wave of fiery red sound rapidly expanded.
The walls lining the street crumbled instantly under the assault of the blazing true energy.
The old woman on the street bore the brunt of the fiery onslaught, screaming in agony as the crimson energy swept over her.
At that moment, an invisible ripple spread out, and Fang Mu extended his right hand.
[You have absorbed the eerie soul, gaining a trace of true energy.]
[You have absorbed the eerie soul, obtaining a clue—a handkerchief embroidered with a character; its effect is unknown.]
A Bai exhaled black mist, completely absorbing the old woman.
Fang Mu flipped his right hand, revealing a white handkerchief.
The handkerchief was spotless and pristine, with the character "Mei" embroidered in the upper right corner.
Fang Mu examined it carefully. Aside from this character, there were no other clues.
The walls along the street had turned to ruins; from the alley's entrance came the sound of a crowd.
Though the alley was remote, Fang Mu’s battle had been so spectacular it attracted numerous onlookers.
Hearing footsteps approaching, Fang Mu activated the Double Shadow Escape technique and left the alley...

Sunrise to sunset, night soon fell.
The dark Silver Autumn Alley was cold and deserted; the morning’s commotion had long since faded away.
Outside the alley, the sound of a gong being struck rang out, piercing the quiet street in an instant.
A man walked the street, holding a copper gong and a drumstick, with a white cat perched on his shoulder.
Every few steps, the man struck the gong with the drumstick, producing a sharp, resonant clang.
This man was none other than Fang Mu.
After causing a stir during the day, he had been patrolling around Silver Autumn Alley but encountered no eeriness.
Even as night deepened, he still found no trace of the strange.
When the street fell into deep silence, Fang Mu once again appeared.
After searching in vain, he suddenly had an idea and took out the copper gong and drumstick he had just obtained.
The night watchman had died while on his rounds.
Fang Mu wanted to imitate the night watchman’s patrol to see if he could provoke any eerie manifestations.

He walked from Leap-Seal Alley to the street outside Silver Autumn Alley, striking the gong as he went, but found nothing unusual; only Silver Autumn Alley remained.
Standing at the alley’s entrance, Fang Mu struck the gong with a clang and stepped inside.
The pitch-black alley was eerily silent, broken only by Fang Mu’s footsteps.
Every few steps, he struck the gong again; soon, he had covered two-thirds of the alley’s length.
The alley was utterly quiet. Just when Fang Mu thought today would yield no results, a sudden voice spoke up.
“Brother, I twisted my ankle. Could you help me get home?”
The voice was as clear and sweet as a yellow oriole’s song, soothing to the ear like a spring breeze.
Fang Mu turned his head, and by moonlight, saw a woman in a light gown standing behind him.
The woman, noticing his gaze, spoke softly, “My name is Xiaoyan. I twisted my ankle in the alley. Brother, could you help me back home?”
A warmth spread through Fang Mu’s hand. Looking down, he saw the copper gong and drumstick bleeding.
As the blood touched the gong, it was as if fire met wood—the instruments suddenly burst into flames.
Fang Mu released his grip, letting the copper gong and drumstick burn away completely.
“Brother, please answer Xiaoyan. I’m so pitiful,” the woman floated toward him, her soft, alluring voice paired with her drifting movement giving an odd, uncanny feeling.
Fang Mu raised his hand; a flash of a blade appeared, and a fiery red blade net enveloped Xiaoyan.
“Ah—”
Xiaoyan screamed, her figure growing increasingly faint within the fiery blade net.
“Is that all?” Fang Mu sneered with disdain.
He had expected something stronger, but it turned out to be a minor character, unable to withstand a single strike.
An invisible ripple appeared. Without hesitation, Fang Mu slowly reached out his hand, and the prompt sounded.
[You have absorbed the eerie soul, gaining a trace of true energy.]
[You have absorbed the eerie soul, obtaining a clue—a Buddhist scripture; effect unknown.]
The true energy merged into Fang Mu’s body. Along with the previously acquired energy, several scales on the True Energy Fish armor gleamed brightly.
The woman in the light gown grew ever more ethereal, vanishing completely in the blink of an eye.
Fang Mu sheathed his blade and gazed into the empty alley, finding no further traces of the eerie.
The copper gong and drumstick had been reduced to ashes by the blood-fire. Fang Mu did not linger; he headed toward the Shengge County Dispatch Office.
...

Inside the Shengge County Dispatch Office, Zhao Wuqian heard a knock, went to open the door, glanced outside, then invited Fang Mu in.
“You should rest. I have some matters to attend to.”
Fang Mu sent Zhao Wuqian away and pulled out the item he had just obtained: a worn Buddhist scripture.
The scripture’s cover was yellowed, the characters faded beyond recognition.
When Fang Mu opened it, he found the pages completely blank.
No word appeared on any page—each was utterly empty.
Upon closer inspection, Fang Mu found no clues at all.
This Buddhist scripture was simply a book without content. If not for the prompt identifying it as a Buddhist scripture, Fang Mu would have suspected it was a blank book.
Fang Mu gathered his thoughts. So far, he had slain two eerie beings, gaining true energy, one blank Buddhist scripture, and a handkerchief embroidered with the character “Mei.”
From the surface, these two items seemed unrelated, with no evident connection.
After pondering, Fang Mu stowed the items into a wooden box and went into the back room of the shop.
Zhao Wuqian had not rested; he was sitting on a stool in the back.
Seeing Fang Mu enter, he immediately stood up.
Fang Mu directly asked, “Is there a temple near Shengge County?”
Since it was a Buddhist scripture, it must be connected to a temple.
Zhao Wuqian hesitated, puzzled why a temple was suddenly relevant, but did not delay. After a moment’s thought, he recalled.
“There’s no temple in Shengge County itself, but to the west, on Dulu Mountain, there’s a small temple,” Zhao Wuqian explained calmly. “It’s a modest temple rarely visited except by some women. I only heard about it by chance.”
Fang Mu paced back and forth, then instructed, “I’m going to Shengge County. You stay here and see if any eerie phenomena appear.”
The only thing Fang Mu could think of related to the Buddhist scripture was a temple.
Since there was one nearby, he planned to investigate.
Zhao Wuqian was stunned. “Now? I just wait here?”
Fang Mu nodded and left the shop, carrying the wooden box.
No time to waste—there might be more unwary souls waiting for him to reap. Why wait any longer?