Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Realm of the Supernatural

Liu Mengshu fixed Fu Yang with a deep, meaningful look. “Since you are a descendant of the Ghost Path, I’ll let you off today. Consider it repaying an old debt. But if you fall into my hands again, it won’t be so easy next time!”

As he finished speaking, he flicked his black horsetail whisk.

Suddenly, the four of them were able to move again.

Looking around, they saw that the stone stele was now empty—the shadow of Liu Mengshu had vanished without a trace…

“That fiendishly wicked heretic is gone?”

“We… survived?”

They could scarcely believe it. A-Huang, in particular, collapsed gracelessly onto the ground, gasping for breath, muttering curses all the while.

“Damn it all… So what if you’ve reached the Three Talisman Realm? Just you wait, one day I’ll make you howl for mercy!”

Fu Yang’s curiosity was piqued. “What exactly is this ‘Three Talisman Adept’? And A-Huang, what level are you, then?”

“Don’t stick your nose in, brat!” A-Huang snapped back, his tone foul.

Smack!

He got a knock on the head. “That’s what you get for showing off!”

“Damn it, Fu Yang… Once I’ve had a proper meal, I’ll settle the score with you…”

All four of them breathed a collective sigh of relief, their nerves—stretched taut for an entire day—finally able to relax.

By now, they had pieced together that Liu Mengshu, known as the ‘Heretic,’ was the mastermind behind all that had occurred. Since the big boss himself had declared he’d spare them this time, it seemed the danger was over.

“By the way, Shanshan, what was it you wanted to tell me earlier?” Fu Yang suddenly recalled Zhao Shanshan’s strange behavior and asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“It’s nothing! Nothing at all…” she stammered, like a cat whose tail had been trodden, nearly jumping up in shock. Her cheeks burned red, though fortunately it was deep into the night, and Fu Yang failed to notice.

With no other choice, the four of them spent the night in the wilderness, toughing it out as best they could. A-Huang used a Taoist fire talisman to ignite some wood, and they sat around the campfire until dawn. Only then did they muster what was left of their strength and head for the main road as quickly as possible.

By the time the four of them—exhausted and disheveled—finally reached the provincial highway to Jiangcheng and managed to flag down a taxi, they almost broke into tears of relief…

Though they were hungry and fatigued, they returned to the police station first.

They needed to check on the other detectives!

To their immense relief, the others had also made it back safely. Unfortunately, the young detective who had been separated from the group in the dense fog was still missing… His body would not be found until a week later. But that, of course, is another story.

Fu Yang and A-Huang exchanged a few words with Zhao Shanshan before taking their leave. After all, neither of them were police officers—they were only there to help and couldn’t be involved in every aspect of the investigation and aftermath.

“Where should we get a good night’s sleep? My rented place?” Fu Yang yawned and stretched as soon as they left the police station.

“No thanks! I’m timid and have simple tastes—there’s no way I’m sleeping with the King of Ghosts. Just thinking about it makes my balls shrivel.”

“How about crashing at my dorm?”

“Forget it, I have no desire to spend the night surrounded by filthy socks and dirty laundry…”

“Damn it! Then where do you suggest?”

“Let’s get a hotel room nearby.”

“Fine, a hotel it is.”

Just as they were discussing this, two middle-aged women happened to walk by with baskets of groceries, overhearing the two men debating where to get a room together.

Immediately, the women began whispering and pointing.

“How perverse! Two grown men getting a room together…”

“I know! The world’s gone downhill. Society is getting filthier by the day…”

“My daughter’s still single, and these two men are fooling around with each other.”

“I know—imagine how much that must hurt…”

Their expressions were perfectly matched to their words: grieved, disapproving, utterly contemptuous.

In short, the two of them were instantly branded as incorrigible degenerates.

Fu Yang and A-Huang exchanged a glance, tears streaming down their faces…

After all they’d been through, they were bone-tired. Once they reached their hotel room, they devoured a quick meal and collapsed into a deep, dreamless sleep.

It wasn’t until the afternoon of the next day that they finally stirred, groggy but restored.

The first thing Fu Yang did upon waking was pester A-Huang to give him a proper “crash course” on the world of the supernatural.

“So what’s the deal with your circle, anyway? Tell me the truth.”

“What do you mean, ‘your’? It’s ours! Aren’t you planning to become a cultivator yourself?”

Fu Yang shrugged and whistled. “Don’t sweat the small stuff—just get to the point.”

“The supernatural world is vast and unfathomable! To give you a rough outline: in China, it’s the Taoist sects that wield the most power, followed by the Buddhist orders, then various alliances of independent practitioners and families that pass down their arts. But the most formidable force… is still the state.”

Fu Yang was amazed. “The state knows about all this?”

“Of course! Did you think the supernatural world could operate outside the reach of secular authority? How naïve! Officially, all supernatural organizations are under the joint jurisdiction of the National Security Bureau’s Zero Division and the Bureau of Religious Affairs.”

“Taoism is mainly divided into two branches: the Quanzhen Sect in the north, and the Zhengyi Sect in the south. Among the Taoist ‘Big Three,’ Mount Longhu and Mount Mao belong to Zhengyi, while Mount Laoshan is part of Quanzhen. As for the Buddhist orders, I don’t know as much, but their structure is probably similar. The independent alliances and sorcerer families are not to be underestimated, either.”

“All major supernatural organizations have their leaders holding posts in the National Security Bureau or the Religious Affairs Bureau. For example, the head of Mount Longhu—this generation’s Celestial Master Zhang—is a full ministerial-level official!”

Fu Yang couldn’t help but imagine those high-ranking Taoist masters, brimming with spiritual power, solemnly sipping tea and holding meetings in the Great Hall of Beijing. The image almost made him burst out laughing…

He took a moment to process A-Huang’s information, then asked, “You’ve told me about the ranking of vengeful spirits, and I guess monsters have something similar. What about Taoist priests? How are they ranked?”

“Taoist practitioners are divided into three major ranks: Mage, Adept, and Celestial Master. Mages are entry-level—anyone who’s started down the path qualifies, and there’s not much distinction. The next level, Adept, is different: that’s where things get mysterious, because it involves the granting of talismans!”

Fu Yang knew the real secrets were coming, and immediately sat up straight to listen.

“Cultivation is a deeply mysterious process. Even in this age of scientific progress, no one can fully explain it.”

Fu Yang thought to himself, How true.

He had always been a staunch atheist! Since childhood, he’d scoffed at A-Huang’s talk of ‘cultivation’—he only ever played along because they were close friends. Who could have guessed that, after a few years apart, A-Huang would really become a Taoist priest, able to perform actual magic?

Even he, Fu Yang, had ended up haunted by a female ghost who taught him strange arts; now he was learning Taoist techniques from A-Huang as well.

In just over a month, his entire worldview had been turned upside down!

In that sense, Fu Yang could be considered a “version 2.0” of himself—software thoroughly updated…