Traveling Through Those Years Of Farming (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 11

Sheng Baobao glances at the time on her children’s watch. Only 27 seconds have passed since she pasted the talisman paper. There aren’t enough experimental subjects, so she isn’t sure what effect the talisman will have on the ghosts, or how long it will last.

At the moment, the effect of the talisman isn’t as ideal as she hopes. Sheng Baobao wonders if it’s due to her own lack of skill. Apart from her golden finger, she’s still a beginner in Xuanmen.

The old Taoist who raised her father left him such a precious secret book. The world is so vast, surely there are many other Xuanmen masters with a proper inheritance in places she’s never heard of. Compared to them, the talismans she draws might be insignificant.

Sheng Baobao examines the records in the secret book. The talisman drawn by their great-great-grandmaster could stop fierce ghosts, comparable to white zombies, for twelve minutes.

Sheng Baobao isn’t discouraged. If she lacks the strength to make a significant impact, she can make up for it with quantity. She can draw more talismans and pile them up, achieving the same result. She cheers herself on, not noticing the small hidden words at the bottom of the secret book.

Typically, an entry-level Taoist priest can only draw ten low-level talismans a day, as the talisman paper needs to be infused with the drawer’s aura. But Sheng Baobao has already drawn no less than twenty, including several high-level thunder talismans.

There’s no sign of her aura weakening, which is her most impressive feature.

Before dinner that evening, Sheng Baobao hands the talismans she drew all night to her parents.

“Don’t worry, Mom and Dad. I won’t misuse my abilities. These talismans are for you. The peace talisman and exorcism talisman can keep you safe. The thunder talisman and body-stopping talisman are for when you encounter ghosts. You can tear the thunder talisman and throw it at the evil spirits, and the body-stopping talisman needs to be stuck to whatever you want to stop.” Before her parents can object, Sheng Baobao quickly explains.

“Actually, you don’t have to worry too much. I can feel that drawing these talismans doesn’t affect me much,” Sheng Baobao says seriously.

“Bao, your parents will keep these close, but you have to promise not to touch these without our permission in the future.”

Hua Yingpo looks at the thick stack of talisman paper in her hands, feeling deeply moved. Their Bao is so considerate, and it makes all the love they have for her worthwhile.

However, when her daughter says that drawing talismans has no effect on her, Hua Yingpo feels a little skeptical. Her daughter is still young and might not fully understand the implications.

“Lady Hua, there’s a call for you!” Before Hua Yingpo can speak further, someone calls from outside.

It’s the third grandma, who asked for Hua Yingpo’s help earlier. She has the only landline in the village, aside from the public one at the brigade, and makes a living answering calls.

Hua Yingpo tells her husband and daughter to eat first and runs to answer the phone herself.

It turns out that the middleman they contacted during the day has found a house. The seller is eager to sell, and the house is in a prime location, newly built within the last five years. Hua Yingpo and Sheng Wukun are both intrigued and decide to head to the county town to see the house after dinner.

It will take about three or four hours round-trip. Hua Yingpo entrusts Sheng Baobao to the neighbor, quickly changes her clothes, and gets ready to leave.

“Mom, you should take Hua Xiaolian with you. It always distracts me when I try to do my homework.”

Because she sensed the Yin energy on her parents earlier, Sheng Baobao feels a little uneasy. But knowing her parents won’t let her go with them, she decides to give Hua Xiaolian to Hua Yingpo as an added layer of protection.

“Okay.”

It’s a chilly autumn night, so holding the plump puppy as a hand warmer is perfect.

After sending her daughter next door to the neighbor, Hua Yingpo and Sheng Wukun leave.

“Brother, Xu Dafeng is dead too. It must be her. That woman is seeking revenge.”

A shadowy figure stands in the public telephone booth, constantly scanning his surroundings, clutching the receiver tightly like a frightened bird. “I’m leaving. I can’t stay here anymore. Otherwise, I’ll be the next to die. Someone wants to see the house tonight. I’ll sell it no matter the price, take the money, and leave. Brother, you should leave too.”

The voice on the other end of the phone tries to comfort him, but he can’t hear it.

“If I don’t run, I’ll die! Liu Er and Xu Dafeng die so tragically. I’m still young, I haven’t even had children yet. I don’t want to die!” His voice grows louder, causing passersby to glance at him curiously.

“That’s it. I can’t stay here any longer.” He lowers his voice again and hangs up the phone, not waiting for the other party to respond.

The man quickly removes the phone card, pulls the collar of his coat up to cover most of his face, and leaves the phone booth with a hunched back.

“Deputy Captain, there’s another lead. Mao Feng is in the same group as Wang Youyou and Liu Er. On October 15, Mao Feng wasn’t home. We should go find him and question him.” After a thorough investigation, the fourth suspect has been identified.

Lin Zhong and his team regain some confidence, and a group of them hurry to Mao Feng’s house.

“What a powerful ghost.”

At the same time, a pair of monks, dressed as master and apprentice, appear in a grove outside the county town. A man in his forties or fifties, wearing a gray monk’s robe and a bamboo hat, looks ordinary at first glance, but his eyes gleam with an otherworldly light in the darkening dusk.

Behind him stands a young monk, about 10 or 11 years old, with fair skin and delicate features. His bald head doesn’t detract from his looks; rather, it highlights the sharpness of his facial contours. He appears neat and well-groomed, and his appearance is pleasing to the eye.

The young monk carries a bulging backpack and a yellow cloth bag slung across his body. In his hand, he holds a string of prayer beads. Upon closer inspection, the sandalwood beads are intricately carved with runes, and the patina from years of handling gives them a radiant, divine glow.

This is undoubtedly a rare magical artifact!

“This evil ghost must have started harming people.”

The older monk gazes toward the city, and the young monk behind him stiffens when he hears the words “evil ghost,” but quickly composes himself.

“Let’s go.”

The older monk takes out a compass and follows its guidance toward the source of the strongest ghostly energy.

Mao Feng sits anxiously in his house. Didn’t the middleman say the buyer would arrive soon? He has been waiting for over an hour, but no one has shown up.

He wants to wait with the middleman, but the other party has left due to an emergency. Mao Feng grows uneasy, especially when he glances outside and sees the gloomy night, which only heightens his sense of dread.

Unable to sit still any longer, Mao Feng decides to wait at the neighbor’s house next door.

“Bang–“

The lightbulb on the ceiling explodes, and the fragments fly toward Mao Feng, just narrowly missing him.

“Ah!” he screams, his fear escalating. He has become a frightened bird, attributing every strange noise to ghosts. At that moment, all he can think about is escaping.

“Bang–bang–bang–“

The sounds continue, and soon, all the open doors and windows slam shut. The house falls eerily silent.

It is as though the small building is sealed by an invisible barrier. Despite the noise, the neighbors next door remain completely unaffected.

Hua Yingpo and Sheng Wukun have taken the wrong door number, delaying their arrival by half an hour. By the time they reach the Mao family home, the door is shut, and the lights are out, visible only as faint reflections through the glass windows.

Hua Yingpo wonders if the homeowner has already gone to bed and hesitates whether she should wake him.

Lin Zhong and the others arrive within the two minutes she is standing there.

“Lady Hua!”

Lin Zhong’s eyes widen in surprise. He knows it can’t be a coincidence that Lady Hua has arrived at Xu Dafeng’s house. Though she has said she doesn’t want to interfere with the affairs of the Yin and Yang worlds, Lady Hua is compassionate. How could she stand by while evil spirits claim lives and add to the suffering?

But on second thought, Lin Zhong feels a twinge of fear.

At that moment, Hua Yingpo, holding a black dog, stands outside Mao Feng’s house. Does it mean the evil spirit has attacked again? Is Mao Feng’s house… not the only target?

The people outside shudder, hesitating to knock on the door.

“Ah——”

A scream pierces the silence. Everyone turns to see two monks, one older and one younger, standing by a streetlamp not far away.

What incredible spiritual energy!

The old monk’s gaze is intense as he looks at Hua Yingpo and the others. They possess remarkable spiritual energy at such a young age. They must be ascetics like him.

During his years of ascetic practice, the old monk has encountered many frauds, but it has been a long time since he’s seen true practitioners from the Xuanmen like the two before him. He is eager for a spiritual exchange once the evil spirit is dealt with.

However, the most pressing concern now is the evil spirit.

The old monk’s nose twitches. Oh no, there is the unmistakable scent of blood. The evil spirit has started to harm people!

He swiftly forms seals with both hands, slashing through the air. In an instant, the tightly shut door of Mao Feng’s house shatters.

Inside, Mao Feng is suspended in midair, blood dripping from his mouth, his eyes wide with terror.

Lin Zhong and the others witness this unnatural phenomenon and instinctively step back. Sheng Wukun reacts quickly, pulling his wife away and hopping on a bicycle to flee.

This is madness. With their meager skills, if they stay, they’d be caught in the grip of the ghosts. Sheng Wukun knows all too well what their real capabilities are.

In the heat of the moment, the couple forgets about the stack of talismans their daughter gave them.

“Daoist, lend me a hand!” The old monk shouts, tugging on Hua Yingpo’s sleeve to rush inside.

In that brief moment, Hua Yingpo curses his eighteen generations of ancestors in her heart.