“Well done, Old Bai!” Lan He shouted loudly.
If there was one skill Old Bai, the filial son, had improved during his time with Lan He, it was certainly Lan He’s own specialty—acting.
When they first met, Lan He had tricked Old Bai with his acting. Now, Old Bai managed to turn the tables and deceive Lan He instead. The others, who always saw Old Bai as someone overly filial, suspected nothing at all.
It wasn’t until Lan He realized Old Bai’s subtle hint.
He bypassed the true form of the City God and looked towards the golden statue of him—
Old Bai’s words had mentioned a reward. Lan He had received recognition from the Eastern Peak Underworld and had his own statue in the Eastern Peak Temple. He had also learned about the connection between statues and gods.
These divine statues, once carved, undergo a ritual known as “ensoulment.” This involves opening a cavity at the back of the statue, placing herbs representing internal organs and blood, and performing a consecration ceremony.
The statue, through this process, gains sanctity by symbolizing the organs, making it spiritually connected. Only then can the deity use the statue as a medium to enjoy incense offerings and rituals, akin to how tablets or paper effigies link to their real counterparts.
Upon realizing this, Lan He knew it wasn’t a coincidence. Old Bai hadn’t mentioned it casually—he was outright hinting at how to deal with the City God. True enough, Old Bai acted in sync by restraining the City God. Lan He thought, no wonder Old Bai had earlier yelled, “Where do you think you’re running to?” Running was futile; the capital was the City God’s domain—there was nowhere to flee.
While his divine body was tough to tackle, his statue, made by human hands, was not.
The City God, too, realized their intentions. But let it be said—the wet, cold tongue gripping him was rather firm. The City God grabbed Old Bai’s tongue, yanked hard, and, like Lan He’s soul-hooking rope, snapped it into several pieces.
Old Bai’s tongue bled profusely, soon covering his face in blood, but he didn’t even bother wiping it. Thankfully, his tongue was long enough to keep him talking as he clung tightly to the City God, muffledly shouting, “An Shouxin, do you remember why you became a god?!”
He no longer addressed him respectfully, calling the City God directly by name.
City Gods are always former human heroes who take up the role after death. Just as Old Bai had been a master in life, Lord An must have achieved some extraordinary feat to become a City God, let alone the prestigious capital’s City God, charged with maintaining order in the area.
He laughed slowly, saying, “So you’re allowed to take bribes, but I can’t improve my performance metrics?”
Divine beings retain human nature, and human nature is fickle.
Lord An no longer saw anything wrong with his way of thinking; he’d even brainwashed others to share his view. Old Bai’s attempt to awaken his conscience was entirely futile.
…
Lan He aimed for the divine seat, but Hu Si, lurking in the shadows, suddenly emerged. In her hands was none other than the steel fork from the statues of Ox-Head and Horse-Face in the City God Temple—a gift from the City God himself.
“Scram, scram, scram!” Lan He, unwilling to waste the opportunity Old Bai had fought for, swung his Linji Staff mercilessly.
Hu Si smiled faintly, and Lan He discerned a trace of bitterness and self-mockery in it. She dodged the staff, gripping the steel fork with both hands and thrusting it towards Lan He. Lan He abruptly realized: Hu Si had only one remaining soul fragment. Rather than wielding the fork herself, it was the City God who had bound her spirit to the weapon as an enchanter’s tool.
Lan He still had one soul-hooking rope left. Wrapping it around the steel fork, he yanked hard, forcing her to stumble backward. With a mighty effort, he hurled her behind him. But Hu Si, like a shadow, pounced again like a ghost. Lan He reacted swiftly, grabbing her shoulder with one hand. His long fox claws sank into her bones, pulling her forward as he struck her skull with the staff!
Though Hu Si had been lured by the City God, Lan He had no room for hesitation at a time like this.
Hu Si immediately collapsed to the ground, clutching the steel fork.
“As expected of a Yue Palace general under the Bi Xia Goddess,” the City God remarked, unfazed by Lan He’s decisive efficiency. He tore Old Bai off and clutched him in one hand, preparing to personally subdue Lan He.
For a moment, the storm outside the temple seemed to be drawn in, roaring and twisting toward Lan He.
Just as Lan He reached the divine seat, he felt his soul sting painfully. The wind had some bizarre quality, swirling like a vortex intent on tearing his soul apart. He clung to a pillar with one hand to avoid being swept away, fumbling in his robes for a piece of paper. He was just about to fold it when the wind shredded it into fragments.
The City God extended his hand toward Lan He, who felt his grip on the pillar weaken, the whirlwind pulling him farther from the divine seat.
Suddenly, a sound of something slicing through the air rang out. A long sword shot forth.
The City God turned sharply, his expression freezing as the blade of the divine sword pointed straight at him!
It was Song Futan who threw his sword in support. This sword, a relic left by an ancient Zen master and a treasure of the Zen sect, was not something the City God dared to underestimate. He raised both hands to block it. With the flying sword unleashed, Song Futan had only talisman papers left, while the red glow in the ghost’s eyes grew more intense.
Lan He knew Song Futan was creating an opening for him. Without hesitation, he turned and tore through the swarm of ghosts, leaping onto the altar.
The towering golden statue of the City God stood over three meters tall. Gripping the Linji Staff with both hands, Lan He swung it fiercely against the back of the statue. A hole broke open instantly. Reaching into the statue, he pulled out all of the god’s internal organs!
The City God’s form wavered, his divine power clearly affected. The tip of the sacred sword pierced an inch into his shoulder.
Furthermore, damaging the golden statue was a great humiliation to the deity, akin to setting up a street stall on his grave.
The casual smile on the City God’s face vanished. Gritting his teeth, he grabbed the sword with his bare hands and wrenched it out, then seized Old Bai by both arms and pulled them apart.
Old Bai felt a searing pain and couldn’t even scream, as if he were about to be torn in half—
The City God spoke grimly, “I told you, in this city, I make the rules!”
So what if they took his organs? It merely cost him some of the power drawn from the golden statue and incense offerings. He was still the City God.
“Awooo! Awooo!” Old Bai managed to shout through the agony, his figure twisted as though he were about to be ripped apart. He shut his eyes and yelled, “Father, I believe in you!!”
You must know what to do!
At the same time, Song Futan, while pulling Hu 79 aside, was bitten savagely on the wrist by a ghost. He endured the pain in silence, unwilling to distract Lan He.
Lan He stared at the hollowed-out, half-destroyed statue… Still not enough.
No, there had to be another way. He felt certain he could do more.
Lan He shivered as he heard Old Bai’s cries. The words of Xuanguang echoed in his mind: A god’s way must align with heaven and humanity. The City God’s actions defied both, his virtue unworthy of his position. In a flash of insight, Lan He recalled the old monk’s words: “An unworldly nature is the mark of immortality; compassion is the heart of Buddhism.”
Everyone watched as Lan He lifted a foot and kicked the hollow statue of the City God off the altar.
“Boom!”
A thunderous crash echoed as the three-meter-tall golden statue slammed onto the stone floor.
The golden statue lay fallen, its face cracking open. Black fissures split its dignified eyes and straight nose, stretching downward past its neck in a shocking display.
After pushing the statue aside, Lan He turned and ascended the altar himself.
Seated high on the divine platform, Lan He declared, “The City God is unjust. This position is rightfully mine.”
On screen, the scene shifted to a dilapidated temple of blue bricks. Moss on the walls exuded an oppressive gloom. Bloodied from battle, a figure in crimson robes stood out vividly against the gray tones, the robes soaked deeper in red from the carnage.
He raised his sword and struck against the towering god before him, who loomed so high he needed to tilt his head back to see.
The figure stood firm and pushed the god down with a single blow. The audience watched in disbelief at his audacity to slay a deity. Even his companions had lost hope, yet he landed and thrust his sword through the heart of the fallen god. His sharp gaze pierced through the chaos as he coldly proclaimed, “I will teach you how to cultivate and become a god!”
At that moment, the red robes that had flared as he leaped began to settle.
The hem of the robe bore patterns of waves and jagged teeth, rising upwards to a four-clawed golden dragon coiled on the crimson fabric. As Lan He sat on the divine seat, he had suddenly donned a brilliant scarlet python robe!
In the theater, the audience erupted in excited murmurs at the gripping scene, whispering, “So cool!”
Inside the temple, Hu 79 also jumped up and shouted, “Respect! You’re amazing!!”
Pushing down the statue and claiming its position, Lan He transformed from an ordinary mortal into the living City God, robed in python-embroidered glory.
An Shouxin looked down at himself. His official robes had faded, and his divine power had been stripped. His expression turned sour. “…Usurping the altar?”
But this wasn’t a transfer of divine office by the decree of the underworld. Lan He had forcibly usurped the position of a god as a living mortal?!
The python robe now adorning Lan He signified that he had claimed the divine seat, and the temple’s incense offerings had been reassigned, marking this as no longer An Shouxin’s domain.
If the City God had lost his way, why shouldn’t Lan He, in alignment with heavenly principles, replace him? In a previous life, he was a divine general; in this life, he was worthy of receiving incense offerings. This heart was the heart of a Buddha; this path was the way of a god. With a single enlightenment, he spoke the words of heavenly law, transforming his identity in an instant.
The official seal descended slowly. Inside the temple, both malicious spirits and underworld officials froze in shock.
In all their ghostly lives, they had never seen such a domineering ascension. They had encountered many a living Impermanence, but never a living City God!
The reallocation of incense offerings—usurping divine worship—typically required human assistance because divinity replaces humanity.
But here, this man had done it himself. Not only did he understand the nature of incense offerings, but he also received them, and even had his own “believers,” which were essentially fans. All the necessary components were present, and he had even conformed to the principles of heaven.
And just like that, he kicked An Shouxin down and took the seat himself.
Lan He even went so far as to cradle the incense burner in his arms, dumping out An Shouxin’s ashes onto the ground and refilling the burner with his own gilded ashes. As a living human, he even conducted his own incense rite.
Lan He lifted his chin and said, “Now tell me, whose territory is this?”
All the ghosts were silent, trembling in fear.
…
Old Bai fell from An Shouxin’s powerless grip. He staggered to his feet, rubbed his nearly dislocated arms, and burst into laughter. “Hahaha! Hahahahaha! Who would’ve thought—our Xiao Lai is already a double ‘idol’ in the mortal realm! Being ousted by a living human—An Shouxin, you’re officially the most disgraceful City God in history!”
Earlier, An Shouxin had been at ease, confident in his absolute control. Now, having lost his domain, his composure and refined demeanor crumbled. He glared at Lan He and growled, “I’ll kill you—”
Moments ago, An Shouxin had been swinging Lan He around. Now, Lan He jumped down from the divine seat and, with a vengeful smirk, grabbed An Shouxin. In an instant, he sent him on a whirlwind tour of the capital’s landmarks.
This time, however, An Shouxin faced the late-night workers on Financial Street, the laughing moviegoers in theaters, the wandering spirits outside temples, and the Taoist priest still guarding the Eastern Peak Temple in the predawn hours.
An Shouxin couldn’t care less about any of it. Unwilling to accept his fall from divinity, he twisted mid-air, escaping Lan He’s control, and landed atop the Bird’s Nest stadium.
“Huh?” Lan He glanced at his hand. “Not skilled enough; he broke free.”
Everyone else: “???”
The underworld officers, witnessing the sudden shift in power, were trembling and ready to prostrate themselves. But upon hearing Lan He’s casual remark, they were left utterly confused.
“No problem, no problem.” Lan He, with a single thought, imprisoned all the malicious ghosts and underworld officials in the City God’s dungeon. Then, pulling his family spirits along, he appeared beside the Bird’s Nest.
Outside, the heavy rain had ceased, leaving scattered puddles on the ground. Under the lonely glow of night lamps, the stadium’s surroundings were eerily quiet.
At the same time, the audience from the cinema, animatedly discussing the movie, emerged into the damp air. They overheard staff saying, “You were so lucky just now. That weather—torrential rain and swirling winds—was like a tribulation. I thought we’d have major flooding again…”
The audience chuckled in confusion. “Really?”
Only the puddles on the ground served as evidence of the staff’s words. As for the storm outside during the movie, the audience remained completely oblivious.
In front of the stadium, An Shouxin clutched his injured shoulder. Though stripped of his divine position, the power of his soul was still formidable. Yet, being on Lan He’s new territory, he found himself easily suppressed.
Lan He grabbed Song Futan’s hand, examining the bite mark left by a malicious ghost. A patch of blackened skin made him wince in sympathy. He rubbed it several times, called Bai Wu over to blow on it, and handed over some medicinal ash from his incense burner.
An Shouxin, watching Lan He’s casual demeanor—a clear parody of his own previous behavior—was filled with bitterness and a sense of malicious irony. “…If I had another chance, I would have awakened the great powers in the capital and sent you back where you belong.”
“Enough chatter. Report to the underworld for judgment.” First Lady Hu’s cold voice cut through the tension as she flexed her nails, ready to exact some pre-trial vengeance.
“First Lady Hu, don’t you regret it? And the rest of you?” An Shouxin’s tone turned scornful. He felt that Lan He and Song Futan had been corrupted by this frivolous era and were deaf to reason. But the household spirits, including Old Bai, should understand better. “Do you not remember how humans treated you in the past, and how they treat you now?”
Old Bai crossed his arms and mockingly said, “If you think humans are so terrible, maybe you should reincarnate as one and change them from the inside. Oh wait, with your sins, reincarnation isn’t even an option.”
Hu 79 followed up with exaggerated taunts: “Torture you, trample you, tear you apart…”
The small spirits chimed in one after another, creating a noisy and insulting cacophony. They listed the punishments An Shouxin would face before and after judgment, leaving him fuming. He extended his arms, and a black wind rose from beneath his feet, expanding in range, uprooting the grass in flowerbeds, and making his robes billow noisily.
But at that moment, an even larger whirlwind rose from the side, overwhelming and unstoppable, sweeping everything in its path!
Old Bai exclaimed in surprise, “Dad’s this fierce?”
Lan He, however, was stunned. “It’s not me.”
First Lady Hu sensed something was off. “Wait…”
An Shouxin seemed to think it was another one of Lan He’s tricks. He charged forward, ready for a climactic fight.
To his shock, the enormous whirlwind transformed into the shape of a dragon-serpent, which deftly seized him in its jaws. The serpent snapped its mouth a few times, and An Shouxin was instantly torn into three fragments of soul. There was no resistance—so swift even An Shouxin himself didn’t have time to react.
The whirlwind then receded like a tide, leaving only a faint, irritated “hmph” lingering in the air.
Lan He: “……”
He stood dumbfounded for several seconds before realization dawned.
Nearby was none other than the Northern Peak Lady Temple, one of the Five Peaks, under the jurisdiction of the Lady of the Bixia Yuanjun Temple at Miaogan Mountain. It was also home to the most revered and elusive figure in the capital—Master Liu!
Earlier, An Shouxin had arrogantly claimed that if given the chance, he would summon the capital’s great powers to deal with Lan He.
Who could have imagined that within mere minutes, he would be dismissed with disdain and bitten into three pieces by one of those great powers?
Master Liu’s brief intervention, punctuated by a single dismissive humph, carried an aura that left all who witnessed it deeply shaken.
An Shouxin’s fragmented soul had grown so faint it was nearly invisible. Lan He stepped forward, tied the three fragments together with his soul-hooking rope, making it look like a spiritual sausage. “Honestly, what were you thinking? The capital is full of hidden masters. Of all places to stir up trouble, you chose to do it in front of the Lady’s temple…”
First Lady Hu added, “You caused so much chaos, but if those who were deceived by you found out, would any of them still revere you and offer incense? Fraudulent incense offerings—fake is fake.”
An Shouxin looked utterly defeated, his soul dim and his expression twisted with despair. Completely powerless, he barely managed to keep his soul fragments together, only to be further humiliated by their words.
At that moment, Melonhead Immortal shuffled over slyly. He eyed An Shouxin and, to everyone’s surprise, bowed reverently.
An Shouxin looked at him, bewildered.
Melonhead Immortal rubbed his hands together and grinned sheepishly. “I once made a wish to you, asking for my daughter to secure her guaranteed placement. Master Lan accepted my *Eighty-Seven Immortals Scroll* and even burned it, so it must’ve worked—you had no choice but to bless my daughter.”
Lan He: “…”
Melonhead Immortal continued, “Although it might not have been you directly, you did contribute significantly, even if unintentionally. You indirectly fulfilled our family’s wish. No matter what others think, I must express my gratitude.”
He bowed deeply. “Thank you very much!!”
“…” An Shouxin, utterly enraged, could only scream as his soul dissipated into nothingness, “Ahhhhh!!!”