Transcending two realms to become an earth immortal

Walking on a country lane.

A bright sun hung in the sky, its light shining down from all directions, illuminating the surroundings.

Ding-dong!

Ding-dong!

Just then, a clear bell rang.

Looking in the direction of the sound, they saw a young man slowly walking towards the village entrance.

He was dressed in a blue Taoist robe with a string of copper coins hanging from his waist. He looked young and somewhat naive, but he already exuded an otherworldly air.

Fang Chen was this young Taoist priest.

He looked around at the scene. The sun shone brightly, covering the fields. The forests in the mountains had withered, and there was no trace of birds or beasts. The earth was cracked and parched, and life was desolate for thousands of miles... It was clear that this place had been suffering from drought for a long time.

Even knowing that all of this was merely an illusion left over from the old world, Fang Chen couldn't help but sigh softly as he gazed at the real sun in the sky.

"It's been five years since I last saw such a normal human scene."

I lived in a daze for over a decade after being born into this world in a state of ignorance. It was only five years ago that I awakened my memories of my past life and realized that I was living in a desolate world where spiritual energy was polluted, demons roamed freely, and the traditions of Taoism were in decline.

In order to find a glimmer of hope, Fang Chen had no choice but to risk stepping into these fragments of light and shadow left over from the old world, hoping for a chance.

"I wonder what kind of past stories are hidden in this play of light and shadow..."

Suppressing his chaotic thoughts, Fang Chen took a deep breath and stepped into the village.

After walking a few dozen more steps, the view suddenly opened up before me.

There was a path in front of me, and at the entrance stood a stone with three characters carved on it:

Qingshi Village.

The village was eerily silent, as if deserted. Fang Chen was about to explore when suddenly—

when!

when!

when--!

Three muffled gong sounds, like thunderclaps in a dry season, abruptly shattered the village's deathly silence and echoed far and wide.

Fang Chen's expression hardened, and he looked in the direction of the sound.

Under the scorching sun, the village, which had been withered and desolate like a ghost town, seemed to suddenly come alive.

One after another, gaunt faces emerged from the earthen houses. Everyone was so thin they were unrecognizable, with sunken eyes and high cheekbones, yet their eyes burned with a terrifying light.

"Pray for rain!" A hoarse roar burst from the throat of a shirtless man, veins bulging on his neck.

"Pray for rain!" The gaunt woman, clutching the baby, stumbled out, her sunken eyes streaked with tears.

"It's raining!" Fang Chen suddenly felt a tight grip on his arm; it was the old man from the village entrance, who was trembling violently, tears streaming down his face. "Heaven... has opened its eyes!"

"Let's pray for rain!"

"Let's pray for rain!"

"Let's pray for rain!!!"

This is... a rain-praying ceremony performed by people from all walks of life during a drought!

Shouts and cries erupted from all directions, and crowds surged forth from every alleyway like a flood bursting its banks.

Those skeletal bodies pushed and shoved each other, stumbling and falling, forming a desperate and frenzied torrent that surged toward the lonely temple in the center of the village.

It was a Dragon King Temple, with blue bricks and gray tiles. It looked simple and ordinary, but it had already exhausted the hard-earned money of the local people.

The incense table in front of the temple was covered with ash, except for an old bronze tripod that was polished to a shine, with the embers of incense inside flickering.

As the crowd surged in, five people were already standing on the stone altar in front of the temple.

Four strong men, each with broad shoulders and thick waists, stood guard on all four sides, protecting a magnificent sedan chair.

A witch sat in the sedan chair; she was fat, with big ears, an oily face, and dressed in gorgeous brocade.

Those who know her might think she's a shaman serving the gods, while those who don't might mistake her for a wealthy woman.

A crowd gathered in front of the altar like a tidal wave, their faces, like those of hungry ghosts, casting countless hopeful glances fixed on that kind-faced, oily face.

Below the altar were emaciated beings, resembling hungry ghosts from hell; above the altar were benevolent and dignified divine messengers.

This scene is truly magnificent... a blessing for all living beings!

Fang Chen remained hidden among the crowd, observing coldly.

The statues in the temple were just clay figures, devoid of any incense or spiritual energy; moreover, the witch's plump body showed no trace of good fortune or spiritual aura.

It seems that this so-called spiritual rainmaking is nothing more than a fraudulent scheme to deceive the world.

Natural disasters were already severe, but man-made calamities only made matters worse. They used this opportunity to plunder the people's wealth, to the point of exploiting them to the bone, forcing them to sell their children, mortgage their land, and demolish their houses, leaving them with not even the slightest chance to survive.

Recalling the defiled world I inhabit, it was just like what was happening before my eyes. The great cultivators of the past plundered all the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, leading to the great calamity of the end times; the cultivators of this world not only do not think of saving it, but instead intensify their actions, engaging in all sorts of bone-deep exploitation.

The thought of this caused a chilling killing intent to surge up from the bottom of his heart.

Such behavior truly deserves to be killed!

With this thought in mind, he disappeared into the crowd to investigate their background.

Inside the sedan chair, the witch seemed to be startled awake. Facing the hundreds of anxious gazes below, she sighed deeply, her voice feigning sorrow:

"Just now, I wandered in spirit to the Dragon Palace of the Wei River, kneeling before the Dragon King, pleading with tears of blood. The Dragon King stroked his beard and sighed: 'How could I not have noticed the drought demon's tyranny? Yet you are just a villager, your selfish thoughts are heavy, and your offerings are insufficient... How can such thoughts reach the ears of Heaven?'"

The room fell into a sudden, deathly silence.

Hope receded from those withered faces like a receding tide, leaving only numbness and despair.

A suppressed sob rose in the air:

"Isn't that enough? You've even sacrificed your own flesh and blood, isn't that enough to cover the cost of offerings...?"

"Hmm?!" The witch's fat face sank, and a cold glint flashed in her bean-like eyes as she instantly locked onto the source of the voice.

The crowd suddenly parted, revealing a pale-faced, trembling man in the center.

His knees buckled, and he knelt down, kowtowing until his forehead bled.

"Forgive me, witch! I had a foul mouth! I would never dare to question the Dragon King's decree!"

The witch was heartbroken:

"Foolish child! No wonder the Dragon King refuses to send down the sweet rain; it is your selfish resentment that is causing this! The heart-wrenching pain and profound regret you felt when you sacrificed your child have all become poisonous resentment, defiling your vows... How can the Dragon King accept such filth?"

Her voice rose in pitch:

"The failure to pray for rain is not my fault; it is truly your selfish and malicious intentions that have ruined the entire village and plunged it into utter ruin!"

The man collapsed to the ground, his face ashen, his lips trembling.

Could it be that my own longing ruined the whole village's rain-making ritual?

The witch sneered inwardly upon seeing this.

Knowing that this lowly commoner had become suspicious, she had to frame him and kill him to prevent her from ruining her grand scheme of making money!

The method is simple: put the big picture on hold, and he'll die whether he lives or dies!

Therefore, he put on a compassionate expression:

"Now that you know you've made a mistake, you should atone for it. You still have some property, a few acres of meager land. At this critical moment of life and death, why not offer it all up, sell it, and make offerings? Only by burning your boats can you show your true sincerity!"

The villagers felt as if they had fallen into an ice cave, the cold seeping into their bones. Women clutched their young children tightly, men clenched their fists until their knuckles turned white, and the elderly breathed heavily.

This is forcing people to squander their family fortune and pawn their ancestral property!

The witch sighed again, her tone becoming increasingly earnest:

"How could I not know your suffering? But all of this is for your survival! At this critical moment, I will give up my wealth and my own flesh and blood."

"We've prayed for rain to this extent, and all our possessions are gone. Are we to let all our efforts go to waste? Fellow villagers, at this critical moment, we must... consider the bigger picture!"

"Oh!"

A clear, sneer, not loud but unusually jarring, interrupted the witch's words.

The witch's fat face froze abruptly, and a fierce glint flashed in her eyes:

"Who dares to be so insolent here?!"

The crowd stirred and dispersed.

Fang Chen walked out slowly, stopped three zhang in front of the altar, raised his eyes, and looked piercingly.

"Where did this sorcerer come from?!" The witch's face turned cold. "How dare you slight the Dragon Lord, disrupt the altar, and ruin the livelihood of the entire village?!"

Oh? Playing the label game?

"A heretic?" Fang Chen sneered. "Judging from your words, you're not implying that all the Taoist sects and cultivators in the world... are, in your eyes, beasts with fur and horns, born from eggs and moisture, are nothing more than that, aren't they?"

These words immediately caused an uproar among the people below the altar.

In this world, it is not a legend that cultivators can manifest their divine power. If this were to spread, it would offend those immortals who have the ability to fly and escape into the earth. I'm afraid that tonight, a flying sword might take someone's head from a hundred miles away!

Several elderly men, who had some knowledge of the ways of the world, turned ashen-faced and retreated repeatedly.

The witch's expression changed drastically; she was horrified and screamed:

"You, you're spouting nonsense! When did I ever say such a thing? It is clearly you, you fiend, who have blasphemed the gods and disrupted the rain-praying ceremony! According to custom, you should be imprisoned and your lifeblood and soul should be offered as a sacrifice to the Dragon Lord to appease the god's wrath!"

"Blood sacrifice?" Fang Chen seized on the question, "The Dragon Lord is a righteous god of the court, who brings rain and clouds. Why would he need the blood and souls of living people as sacrifices? Is it possible that in your heart, the Dragon Lord you worship is no different from those evil ghosts and demons that need to devour living people and devour souls?!"

Upon hearing this, the people below the altar were all terrified and turned pale, as if avoiding a plague god!

There may be gods watching over us in this world. To blaspheme against the gods is a great taboo, and one may fall into the deepest hell after death!

Immediately, a woman covered the child's ears tightly, while the men broke out in a cold sweat, their eyes filled with astonishment and fear as they looked at the witch.

"You...you're spouting nonsense, bewitching people!" The witch, her fat trembling with rage, leaped from the sedan chair, pointing at Fang Chen, her voice shrill and piercing, "Don't listen to this sorcerer's nonsense! He's here spreading falsehoods, obstructing rainmaking, and threatening to destroy the village's last chance for survival!"

"Oh?" Fang Chen smiled faintly, his gaze sweeping between her embroidered silk robes and the sallow-faced, emaciated villagers around her. "This sorceress is so adept at exploiting the people, her methods so cruel, forcing them to sell their children and bankrupt them... This kind of behavior is quite similar to those remnants of the White Lotus Rebellion. Could it be that she's using the guise of praying for rain to amass wealth and provisions in preparation for an uprising tomorrow?"

The three words "White Lotus Sect" truly resounded like a thunderbolt from the heavens in everyone's hearts!

"You...you're slandering me! You're framing me!!" The witch was utterly horrified, her face contorted like a demon, her voice distorted. "I served the Dragon King, I was completely innocent..."

However, the people below the altar, who had just been terrified of "gods" and "blood sacrifices," suddenly lost all color in their faces, turning ashen white, and their eyes were filled with boundless, almost suffocating terror!

White Lotus Sect!

That was rebellion, annihilation of the entire family, a catastrophe that wiped out nine generations of relatives and left no one alive!

Gods may be illusory, and hell may be far away, but the laws of the imperial court are right before our eyes, a real and tangible death warrant!

The crowd instantly erupted like a hornet's nest, crying and screaming in terror, pushing and shoving, wishing they had more legs. The scene was completely out of control.

"Fellow villagers, do not panic!" Fang Chen said loudly, quelling the chaos. He stepped forward, his aura calm and composed.

"Whether it is a god or a ghost, good or evil, words are not enough. This humble Taoist has a method that can immediately distinguish truth from falsehood, without involving the innocent."

At this point, Fang Chen smiled and said:

"The *Shan Hai Yi Bian* records: Ancient true shamans could walk on fire and blades, their souls could leave their bodies and communicate with the spirits, establishing a covenant with the gods. Now, we invite the sorceress to follow the methods of the sages—"

He flicked his sleeve and pointed directly at the bronze cauldron in front of the temple:

"By igniting the cauldron and throwing ourselves into this fire, our souls leave our bodies and journey to the netherworld, entering the Dragon Court of the East Sea to plead with the Dragon Lord to bring rain and relieve this vast drought, ending the people's dire straits!"

"You...you're clearly trying to kill me!" The witch's expression changed drastically.

"The sorceress is overthinking it," Fang Chen said calmly. "The divine priests under the Dragon King are naturally protected by spiritual light, impervious to water and fire. If they are burned to death, they are fakes; if they survive, they are the true sorceresses... Why doesn't the sorceress display her supernatural powers?"

Fang Chen looked directly at the witch and said, word by word:

"Therefore, please light a fire in the cauldron and invite... the sorceress to participate in the ritual!"

As soon as he finished speaking, sparks seemed to fly up from the bronze cauldron.

The villagers calmed down, looked at each other, and then someone shouted first:

"Yes! Throwing fire! Is the fire-throwing certificate genuine?"

"Please invite the shaman to enter the cauldron and pray for rain!"

"It's raining! We want it to rain!!"

The sound waves gradually surged like a tide, mixed with hoarse and desperate cries, and full of madness and despair, making even a casual listener shudder.

Seeing that the situation was getting out of control, the witch's expression changed drastically. She tore off her mask completely and screamed at the four thugs:

"What are you all standing there for?!"

These four burly men were "Taoist soldiers" she had created from a young age using secret medicines and wicked techniques, feeding them blood to destroy their minds. They were extremely fierce and were her greatest reliance for swindling people in the martial arts world and for silencing witnesses whenever trouble arose.

I originally planned to plunder this village and leave, but now...

"Since you are all courting death, don't blame me for being ruthless!" The witch's face was contorted with rage as she stared intently at Fang Chen, her voice chilling. "You little beast, daring to ruin my business and cut off my livelihood, once I capture you, I will subject you to the cruel arts of mutilation and torture, turning you into a human pig for my playthings. I will also skin you alive and use your skull to light a long lamp, only then will I be satisfied with my hatred!"

Upon hearing the order, the four burly men, their faces turning fierce, put down the sedan chair, drew their long knives from their waists, and glared menacingly at the crowd.

They surrounded Fang Chen, holding up gleaming knives with a ruthless expression.

Even more witches shrieked:

"Hey! You unruly scoundrels and heretics, do you want to test the sharpness of our precious swords?!"

Faced with the chilling glint of the blade, the villagers froze, their faces filled with terror. Despite their large numbers, not a single one dared to step forward.

However, in that moment of deathly silence and oppression, autumn waters suddenly filled the sky in front of the temple.

That was a flash of sword light.

Clear and cold, white and vast, like the moon reflected in a lake, like the cold light of autumn water, rising and then dissipating.

No one saw how he drew his sword or how he made his move.

When everything became clear again, the witch saw four heads rolling onto the dry ground, their angry expressions still etched on their brows, and the headless corpses still clutching their knives, standing stiffly upright.

Fang Chen brandished his sword, glared at the suddenly stiff, fat face on the sedan chair, and coldly shouted:

"My sword has never been ineffective!"