Chapter 47: Initial Display of Ability
Zhang Jin stepped past the young woman, who dared not stop him and could only glare angrily as they went upstairs.
Even though she currently managed all affairs of the Zhang family, as long as Zhang Jin was home, this stepmother of his held no authority whatsoever.
"Wuu... Wuu..." A faint sound of "mournful wailing" came from the last room on the second floor, carrying a trace of sorrow.
"It's so eerie." As they walked slowly forward, Mu Lichuan could distinctly sense the chilling aura. Even in the sunlight, a cold draft lingered.
The moment he uttered these words, Zhang Jin's eyes lit up. "Young Master Mu, you can feel it too?"
He had once believed his mother's condition was due to shock, but later realized she would never "commit suicide." She cherished her life dearly, and as the one who doted on him the most, it made no sense for her to not even recognize him - let alone attempt to seek out other men. Had they not discovered it in time, the Zhang family would have been utterly disgraced.
Though the Zhang family was insignificant in the capital, merely a minor clan in the eyes of the nobility, compared to ordinary people, they were still considered wealthy.
"Zhang boy, let me tell you, my grandson here is far more capable than this old man." Mu Xiaoran seized the opportunity to boast. He could indeed sense something off about the surrounding air, understanding the source of this eerie chill. But whether the "patient" was possessed or afflicted by dark arts required seeing her in person.
"Then let's see for ourselves." Zhang Jin was somewhat dismissive. In his view, the older the practitioner, the more powerful their Taoist arts should be.
His trip to Longhu Mountain had been a shot in the dark. When he saw the grandfather and grandson sitting by the roadside, with the elder exuding an air of profound mystery despite lacking Taoist robes, he had resorted to desperate measures. Otherwise, his mother would have been sent to an asylum, making it near impossible for her to return.
Mu Lichuan was sharp and knew the man doubted his abilities. Truthfully, he had no real skills, just a pair of Yin-Yang Eyes. As for the spatial secrets Xiao Mo mentioned, he intended to study related texts when he had time. For now, he had no choice but to try anything, as things couldn't get any worse.
Zhang Jin led the way, instructing a maid to open the door. Inside, they saw a woman around fifty years old tied to a chair, a cloth stuffed in her mouth. "What is the meaning of this?" Zhang Jin demanded, his face darkening at the sight of his mother.
The maid hurriedly explained, "Young Master, the new madam ordered it. She said the mistress's howling was too loud and disturbing, so..." Her words trailed off under Zhang Jin's furious gaze.
Mu Lichuan watched as the young man rushed to the old woman, removing the cloth. Her eyes were filled with viciousness before she lowered her head and sank her teeth savagely into his hand.
"Mother..." Even as blood welled on the back of his hand, Zhang Jin's tone remained gentle, reminding Mu Lichuan of his own mother.
"Giggle..." The old woman showed no reaction, even licking the blood with her tongue.
Zhang Jin used his uninjured hand to stroke his mother's hair gently. "Master Mu, what do you think?" Hope flickered in his eyes.
He had invited many "masters" before, but all were frauds spouting nonsense, utterly useless in treating his mother's condition.
The moment the door opened, Mu Lichuan activated his Yin-Yang Eyes. "She's possessed." Unlike the vague impression from last time, he now saw the malevolent spirit clearly, its ferocious form glaring back at him.
Having lived through a past life and experienced many events in this one, Mu Lichuan felt no fear toward such ghosts. Even as it postured threateningly in his vision, he noted how the room was sealed—only lamplight inside, curtains drawn tight. Clearly, this ghost feared sunlight. He wondered why they had enclosed the space like this.
At his words, Zhang Jin trembled, his face turning deathly pale. "Then... what can you do, Young Master Mu?" His voice shook slightly.
Mu Lichuan had no solution himself, so he glanced at his grandfather, who said, "Given the setup, simply opening the curtains to let sunlight in should suffice."
"To be honest, I tried that before, but it didn’t help at all. Instead, it caused her skin to rot." Zhang Jin's expression turned skeptical. Had he brought yet another pair of frauds? Were they just desperate paupers?
Mu Xiaoran took out a talisman from his robe. "Place this on your mother’s body, then open the curtains." The rotting skin was because the vengeful ghost couldn’t leave the host.
Though he was a cultivator, his close friend was from the Mo family, giving him deeper knowledge of metaphysics - especially regarding spirits. The talismans were gifts from said friend. To establish themselves in the capital, they needed to make connections.
As for the Mu family of Chuan City, he didn’t know if it still existed. Now wasn’t the time to investigate. Fortunately, the surname Mu was common across Country C, so no one would link them to the Mu family of Chuan City.
"If you don’t trust us, we’ll leave immediately." Mu Lichuan despised half-hearted believers. If you sought help, you should commit fully.
Zhang Jin flushed with embarrassment. "My apologies, that was rude of me." He stepped back from his mother, who grew even more frenzied without the blood, snarling and howling unintelligibly.
Taking the talisman, Zhang Jin placed it on his mother’s forehead. She thrashed violently, but the bindings held her fast.
"Rest assured, we wouldn’t suggest this if we weren’t certain." In Mu Xiaoran’s view, the capital should have many capable individuals. How could a mere ghost run amok? Then again, true experts likely couldn’t be bothered with such trivial matters, focused instead on cultivation.
Steeling himself, Zhang Jin threw open the curtains.
"Ah—! Ah—!" The old woman screamed as if her heart were being torn out. Wisps of vapor rose from her, but her skin showed no signs of rotting, easing Zhang Jin’s fears.
Within ten minutes, the vapor dissipated completely. Though pale, the woman’s eyes regained clarity. "Jin'er?" Her voice was weak, but to Zhang Jin, it was the sweetest sound.
"Mother!" Tears welled in his eyes. Exchanging a glance, Mu Lichuan and his grandfather quietly withdrew, leaving the family to their reunion.
After weeping for a while, Zhang Jin realized the two masters had left and cursed his rudeness. After ensuring his mother freshened up, he rushed out and caught them at the villa’s gate. "Masters, please wait!" His voice brimmed with reverence.
Mu Xiaoran paused. Truthfully, what they needed most right now was money, everything else they carried with them.
"Though I know material things mean little to you, please accept this token of gratitude." Zhang Jin hastily offered a bank card. "The PIN is six eights." This was originally meant for his mother’s treatment.
Mu Lichuan accepted it with a smile. "Thank you." His ID had survived the spatial displacement, simplifying matters.
"No, I should be the one thanking you." Zhang Jin bowed. Masters had eccentric preferences, best not to speculate.
At the bank, Mu Lichuan used his ID to open an account and transferred the funds from Zhang Jin’s card. A mere million, but it was a lifesaver for them.
"Grandfather, it’s late. Let’s find a hotel." Plans could wait. He was grateful banks operated 24/7—otherwise, this late-night errand would’ve been troublesome.
Mu Xiaoran agreed. After a good meal and new clothes (since they only had what they wore), exhaustion claimed them. They slept until noon the next day.
"Grandfather, rest here. I’ll look for a place." Hotels weren’t a long-term solution.
Mu Xiaoran nodded approvingly. To him, Mu Lichuan had matured overnight—handling matters more steadily than even his own grandson, Mu Changnian.
Familiar with the capital, Mu Lichuan had managed everything smoothly last night. Finding a house should be straightforward.
"That’s him! Get him!" A group armed with clubs charged before he could react.
Mu Lichuan’s eyes turned icy. Did they think he was just a 15-year-old boy? Even after rebirth, he’d kept up the martial skills from his past life.
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