Chapter Thirty-Five: The Master

“Oh? Mengchen, you’ve arrived?”
A voice came from behind the two Taoists, and Shen Chang’an turned to look, finally seeing Chen Mengchen’s elder brother.
He bore about a third resemblance to Chen Mengchen, but his expression was proud, his features severe, lacking the calm gentleness of Mengchen. Shen Chang’an had asked Mengchen before; her brother’s name was Chen Siyang, and he was not the easiest person to get along with.
“Brother, I’ve brought the person you wanted. What’s going on now?”
Chen Siyang nodded slightly and said, “Good, you’re here. Wait over there for a moment; I have some matters to discuss with these two masters.”
Chen Mengchen frowned, instantly understanding the situation: Chen Siyang probably thought Shen Chang’an unreliable and had gone out to find others himself.
She was about to speak, but Shen Chang’an raised a hand slightly, giving her a signal. The two of them walked to the sofa and sat down.
“Why did you stop me? My brother is clearly belittling us—I need to set him straight!”
Shen Chang’an waved his hand and spoke softly, “I haven’t noticed anything amiss here. I suspect everything that happened before was just a coincidence. Inviting these masters to perform a ritual might actually boost the merchants’ confidence.”
“You mean you can’t perform rituals?” Chen Mengchen asked curiously.
Shen Chang’an pursed his lips, “I can catch ghosts and subdue monsters, but I don’t dance for the spirits.”
“So these two are really here to put on a ritual?” Chen Mengchen was puzzled.
Shen Chang’an glanced at the two and nodded, “Most likely. I don’t sense any spiritual power from them—they’re just ordinary people.”
As he said this, he suddenly recalled last night’s events and felt a surge of doubt.
“If there’s truly no evil spirit, then did last night’s incident really happen by accident?”
He closed his eyes, remembering the fleeting glimpse of the wandering soul—the pain and struggle etched on her face.
“Is suicide always that agonizing?”
Lost in thought, he suddenly heard a voice call out, “Mengchen, you two come over.”

Chen Mengchen quickly pulled Shen Chang’an to Chen Siyang’s side.
“Brother, what are you thinking? These two…”
Chen Siyang cut her off, “These gentlemen are masters I specifically invited. Don’t make trouble in front of them.”
“I…” Chen Mengchen was about to lose her temper, but Shen Chang’an intervened, speaking softly, “It’s alright. Let these esteemed masters show their skills—we juniors can observe and learn.”
One of the men, appearing in his fifties or sixties, nodded arrogantly, snorting, “At least the young people nowadays still have the humility to seek instruction. Not bad. But today, I doubt you’ll have a chance to act. Just watch from the side.”
Chen Siyang nodded as well, “Master Sun Yiyuan is an official Taoist of the Celestial Master Sect, Mengchen. Later, let him give you a talisman for safety, to protect you when coming and going.”
Chen Mengchen was on the verge of an outburst, but Shen Chang’an was quite content, pulling her aside.
“If I really had to step in, it’d mean we’re facing genuine trouble. Isn’t there enough going on already?” he whispered.
“This fraud is taking our family’s money and putting on a show—I can’t just let it go!”
“He’s got the full gear, and he’s here to perform. Paying him a fee is reasonable, isn’t it? Besides, without this show, how would your brother lure the merchants back? My reputation as Master Shen probably isn’t enough.”
At last, Chen Mengchen was convinced, grudgingly accepting the situation but secretly vowing to make her brother apologize to Shen Chang’an.
The fake Taoist, oblivious to their murmurs, conferred with Chen Siyang and soon began preparations, laying out a pile of items that made Shen Chang’an’s eyes light up.
Damn it, all this stuff in the fraudster’s hands—every single piece is the real deal!
Peach wood swords, coin swords, red cords, ink lines, talisman paper…
Not one item bore spiritual power, but the materials were authentic. The peach wood swords were genuine, the coins on the coin sword were antiques, and the talisman paper made Shen Chang’an’s teeth ache. Using real talisman paper for fake symbols—if it weren’t for the people around, Shen Chang’an would have beaten the guy senseless for squandering such treasures.
Who knows how this old fraud acquired all these good items—yet when wielded by him, it looked impressively authentic.
The old trickster Sun Yiyuan was quite adept at putting on airs. After setting up the altar, he began his ritual, flinging talismans about and chanting incessantly. Shen Chang’an listened for a while and realized the fellow was reciting the Tao Te Ching!
Good heavens, if the Supreme One found out you’re using his scripture to ward off evil, he’d slap you senseless.

Shen Chang’an simply focused his gaze inward, pretending not to see, hoping the man would finish and leave quickly.
The group followed Sun Yiyuan from upstairs to the ground floor. When they reached the lobby, the fake Taoist suddenly changed his movements, his voice grew louder, and he brandished the peach wood sword wildly, making Shen Chang’an flinch inside.
If he ruined that sword, it would be sacrilege.
Finally, the ritual ended. He grabbed a handful of talismans, pierced them with the peach wood sword, and with a flourish, the talismans ignited, seemingly combusting spontaneously.
If only Shen Chang’an hadn’t caught the sharp scent of chemical fumes…
The old man really invested in this—such materials aren’t cheap, and if he’s not careful, he might burn himself.
In any case, the old Taoist spun the sword, chanted a final incantation, lit several sticks of incense, and had his disciple bring a burner, placing them carefully inside.
He then declared, “Mr. Chen, the ritual is complete. I’ll continue to guard the place for three days. If the demon or ghost doesn’t dare return in that time, the matter can be considered resolved.”
Chen Siyang quickly asked, “And if it comes back?”
“If it returns…” The fake Taoist’s brow furrowed, and he replied slowly, “Then things may get complicated…”
Shen Chang’an couldn’t help himself, whispering to Chen Mengchen, “I know this script—he’s just angling for more money.”
Chen Mengchen looked at her brother in exasperation, wondering why he had found such an unreliable person.
Actually, based on appearances, the fake Taoist seemed more trustworthy than Shen Chang’an.
As Chen Siyang and the fake Taoist discussed the matter of “extra payment,” the door suddenly swung open and two men burst in.
Spotting Chen Siyang, they immediately shouted, “So, you scoundrel are hiding in here! Today, you won’t leave until you pay what you owe!”
Seeing the intruders, Chen Siyang’s brows knitted, his face darkening visibly.
But Shen Chang’an’s expression was even worse.