Ye Wen raised a hand, and though he made no particularly grand gesture, nothing unusual manifested on his palm, yet the surrounding pristine buildings instantly dissolved into nothingness, the scene transforming to reveal the original setting.

He found himself in a desolate field of graves, the only vibrant soul amidst countless mounds of earth. The woman standing not far ahead, despite her exquisite beauty, now exuded a chilling aura. Surrounded by countless tombs and drifting wisps of ghost fire, anyone witnessing such a spectacle would surely be terrified.

Ye Wen looked around, marveling at the completely altered scenery. "Since achieving success with my divine sense, I hadn't seen much beyond mastering the Sword Control technique. Only today do I realize that a powerful divine sense grants immunity to illusions; all false imagery betrays itself to my perception. A mere focus of my divine sense through my eyes is enough to see the true form. Truly useful!"

A sweep of his divine sense would have made it difficult for anyone of lesser cultivation to conceal themselves. Or perhaps the entity in the distance never anticipated such an ability, hence making no attempt at concealment.

As Ye Wen gestured toward the distance, he sensed a distinct fluctuation in the other person’s aura, clearly startled at being summoned out. Ye Wen even detected a momentary intention to attack, which, for some reason, was instantly suppressed.

“My friend, why not show yourself? If you refuse, I suppose I’ll have to come over myself…”

This time, the hidden person finally understood that Ye Wen was not merely probing but had genuinely pinpointed their location, so they stepped out of the darkness with brisk finality, their true appearance illuminated by the surrounding ghost fire.

The figure was tall and imposing, clad in a pair of faded, slightly washed-out denim jeans and a very ordinary sweatshirt above. From a distance, it resembled a product of the famous brand Adidas, but upon closer inspection, the letters spelled out "Dou Lou Da Si" ()...

The face looked etched with worry, showing a touch of embarrassment, yet the brow held the mature air of someone seasoned by the world. Overall, he resembled any young man who had recently left university and been working in society for a short while.

Were it not for the setting and the sensation just experienced, this person would pass unnoticed on any street, yet at this precise moment, Ye Wen knew he could not afford to be careless in his dealings.

“Do all the lonely spirits in this area report to you?” Ye Wen glanced around. Souls were already drifting out from the older grave mounds nearby, slowly coalescing into human shapes in the air. Many specters were gathering from afar, and Ye Wen understood immediately that the situation today would not resolve amicably.

The other man was sizing up Ye Wen as well. He had initially thought that although he had carelessly chosen the wrong target, drawing the attention of a Daoist, it wasn't a major concern—just an ordinary Daoist. He possessed countless ways to make this Daoist vanish from the world without a trace.

Moreover, the surroundings were desolate, and recently, he had intentionally deployed several illusions to thoroughly frighten the local populace, ensuring few people ventured near, meaning he feared no witnesses.

But all these calculations collapsed the moment Ye Wen exposed his hiding spot. He realized he might actually have encountered a formidable opponent today.

Even so, the man wasn't overly concerned, only frustrated by the prospect of having to relocate his cultivation grounds again.

“Urban development accelerates daily; suitable places for my practice diminish. Coupled with the prevalence of cremation, where am I to find another graveyard this excellent?”

With that thought, eliminating Ye Wen and safeguarding his secret became the man’s priority. However, for the moment, he clasped his hands toward Ye Wen and spoke politely, “I am Zhang Dexing, a disciple of the Maoshan Sect, having studied some of their sorceries. I am practicing ghost-driving arts here. May I inquire who you are, esteemed sir?” Ye Wen smiled, his gaze flicking toward the female ghost standing nearby, who was radiating wariness. He didn't believe a single word Zhang Dexing uttered. "Practicing ghost-driving arts? Why lure me here? If I believed that, my decades of cultivation would have been wasted!"

Combined with the man’s shifting expressions and his clear intent to strike moments ago, Ye Wen was certain that even if this individual wasn't outright malicious, he was certainly no good. Furthermore, this man was clearly a cultivator—this method of enslaving spirits was considered a profound art even in the cultivation world. Zhang Hengguang had once stated that those who mastered spirit control were at least a century into their practice, as controlling ghosts differed greatly from banishing them, and it was a threshold few could cross. The fact that this man commanded so many spirits suggested he held some standing in the cultivation circles.

However, Ye Wen had never engaged deeply with the cultivation world. He didn't even know if "Zhang Dexing" was his real name, making it impossible to judge whether he belonged to the orthodox sects or was one of the infamous, reviled evil factions.

“I am Ye Wen, merely an obscure nobody… though Mr. Zhang’s reputation… is quite widespread!” What reputation? Ye Wen spoke casually, testing Zhang Dexing. If the man truly held renown in the cultivation world, he would likely show a noticeable reaction.

If he displayed smug satisfaction, Ye Wen would estimate him to be a well-known orthodox figure; otherwise...

Zhang Dexing’s face dramatically contorted, looking utterly wretched. The faint scholarly air he possessed vanished entirely, his eyes turning slightly crimson as he snapped, “It seems you’ve come specifically looking for trouble, friend!”

Seeing the reaction, Ye Wen had his answer. "Such a fierce reaction, coupled with spiritual energy surging around him—he’s clearly channeling his vital energy for some spell. And that energy feels sinister and strange, laced with resentment. Judging by this cultivation method, he is very unlikely to be an orthodox practitioner!" This assessment made Ye Wen even more perplexed, because the Maoshan Sect was indeed a famous, prestigious lineage among the major sects, recognized not only by cultivators but also renowned in the secular world. For Zhang Dexing to claim Maoshan lineage yet wield such bizarre energy left Ye Wen uncertain of the situation.

Though he wished to ask more, Ye Wen’s hands moved swiftly. With a mere raise of his hand, a lotus flower, resembling the Scarlet Glow Sun Fire, materialized in his palm. This energy, famed for its blazing heat, was precisely the bane of chilling spirits like ghosts. The moment Ye Wen revealed the lotus, Zhang Dexing’s pupils contracted sharply. He thought, What kind of magic tool is this? It radiates such powerful solar heat! This man came prepared. Could it be that the old ghosts from my sect hired someone senior to deal with me, a traitor?

Zhang Dexing was indeed a naturally gifted and perceptive Maoshan disciple, having achieved mastery in less than a century, placing him among the top of the new generation.

Unfortunately, the environment for cultivation grew increasingly harsh. Many elders across various sects were nearing their natural limits, yet the newer disciples’ cultivation levels lagged far behind those seniors. Even with opportunities to train in sacred locations, their progress remained stunted.

After a long period of stagnation, he noticed his standing among his elders steadily declining. As newer disciples demonstrated superior talent, the sect’s focus shifted heavily toward them, leaving him, once a center of attention, completely overlooked.

Unwilling to accept this, he sought to prove he was still the most outstanding disciple. He traveled widely for experience and eventually obtained a potent technique from an evil master—a method to boost his power by seducing female spirits to lure living men, then refining the vital essence of the living to fuel his cultivation.

From the cautious first attempt, which yielded an exhilarating surge in his long-stalled power, he eagerly embarked on repeated "cultivations." As the saying goes, no wall is entirely opaque. Zhang Dexing’s practice of cultivating with living people was soon exposed—he believed that jealous mediocrities within the sect exaggerated his actions, causing the elders to summon him for judgment.

Arrogant and having finally glimpsed a path to glory, Zhang Dexing refused to wait passively. He fled Maoshan overnight, hiding himself among ordinary people, living like a commoner. Cultivators generally believed that living in the secular world would impede their progress, so they would never think to look for him amidst the masses, allowing him to continuously use his method of cultivating with the living to enhance his power.

Now, having lured Ye Wen here, and witnessing the lotus blossom in Ye Wen’s hand—a magic tool clearly antithetical to ghosts—Zhang Dexing assumed his sect had sent a high-ranking expert to apprehend him, the apostate, after failing to locate him.

He could never have imagined that Ye Wen’s presence was a complete coincidence, unconnected to any summons from the Maoshan Sect. Ye Wen was here because the immense Yang energy within his body was rare. The female ghost, upon spotting such a prize, was ecstatic, hoping to reap some benefits before her master absorbed the essence of this vital Yang. If her master could not fully utilize it, she could at least scavenge the residue.

After all, this primal Yang was a great tonic even for cultivated ghosts, and a sufficient supply could potentially elevate them to the Ghost Immortal realm, freeing them forever from the threat of soul dispersion—a lifelong ambition.

This concatenation of coincidences led to the current standoff. Seeing the potency of Ye Wen’s artifact, Zhang Dexing wasted no more words. He slapped his trouser pocket, and a Copper Coin Sword sprang out—he kept his artifact pouch in his pocket, activating items with a simple pat through the fabric.

With the sword in hand, Zhang Dexing chanted incantations while his left hand formed several intricate seals. He then swung his hand, releasing a Palm Thunder strike, the crackling bolt of lightning aimed directly at Ye Wen.

Ye Wen paid the incoming lightning no mind. He did not toss the lotus forward to meet the attack; instead, he raised his hand slightly, allowing the lotus to ascend slowly into the air.

Zhang Dexing believed this aggressive opening volley would buy him precious time. If he could unleash a stronger spell while Ye Wen was scrambling to deal with the lightning, he was sure to finish the man here.

But he never anticipated that Ye Wen would choose not to defend with his artifact, merely casting it skyward. "Could that artifact have some secondary purpose?"

As the scarlet lotus rose, it suddenly burst forth with blinding divine light, much like the sudden appearance of the sun in the deepest night. Ye Wen had thrown the lotus aloft and commanded it to detonate. The potent solar heat contained within instantly diffused, sweeping away all the minor riff-raff nearby.

The light flashed and vanished almost in the blink of an eye. But when Zhang Dexing managed to restore his vision, he witnessed a scene even more horrifying: Ye Wen stood with his right hand casually tucked into his pocket, his left arm extended forward, his head slightly tilted, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. This expression, paired with the ball of Palm Thunder he held between his slightly parted fingers, was utterly devastating. The unspoken mockery and disdain nearly drove Zhang Dexing mad.

But as he watched Ye Wen’s fingers slowly close, his own Palm Thunder—like a cheap, overstuffed bag—was compressed smaller and smaller until, with a soft pop accompanying the final clench of Ye Wen’s fist, the bolt of lightning disappeared, leaving only a wisp of smoke as proof of its existence.

“Im... Impossible?”

If Ye Wen had met his Palm Thunder head-on with another spell, or used an artifact to absorb the bolt, Zhang Dexing wouldn't have been so shocked. But this? Catching his Palm Thunder with an open hand, and then casually crushing it? That was not a pre-packaged snack from a convenience store!

“Do you think you’re filming Shaolin Soccer?!”

In that moment, Zhang Dexing desperately wanted to shout that line, but the words caught in his throat. Unbelievably, Ye Wen maintained his posture, smiling as he spoke, “I know what you want to say. Yes, I am imitating that guy from Shaolin Soccer!”

Ye Wen was not simply joking. In the span of those two sentences, he used his divine sense to re-scan the entire area, confirming that the minions had been annihilated by his Heavenly Heart Lotus Ring attack before redirecting his focus to the figures before him.

Surprisingly, the female ghost who had lured him was not destroyed, although she appeared severely weakened. Her form was no longer solid; she flickered in and out of visibility, and below her knees, she was entirely gone, simply floating there.

Compared to before, her appearance was much more in line with a true specter. Ye Wen’s strike had not only cleared the rabble but also severely weakened her, stripping away whatever glamour she wore and revealing her true visage: she was likely not ugly in life, but now her face was gaunt, her eye sockets deep-set, and her eyeballs protruding. The cause of her tragic death was unclear.

Her eyes were filled with terrifying resentment; any ordinary person who met that gaze would have their mind seized. However, Ye Wen, possessing formidable divine sense and profound cultivation, feared no such trick. He observed her with detached curiosity for a moment before turning his attention back to Zhang Dexing, who was hesitating, clearly debating whether to flee or fight.

“Stop thinking about running. You can’t escape from me!” To lend credence to his words, Ye Wen slightly lifted his right foot, yet before the step landed, he was already standing before Zhang Dexing, his foot touching the ground.

It looked like a single stride, but he had covered at least ten meters. Zhang Dexing knew he could perform such a movement, but not with Ye Wen’s effortless grace.

Ye Wen’s sudden proximity startled Zhang Dexing, causing him to hastily bring the Copper Coin Sword up, unleashing a diagonal slash upward from below, intending to force Ye Wen back. But halfway through the execution, he found himself unable to continue.

Ye Wen had clearly anticipated the trajectory of the sword. He channeled his vital energy into his right index finger and pressed it onto the blade of the sword. He employed both suction and clinging force: first absorbing all the energy behind the strike, then using the clinging force to momentarily adhere the Copper Coin Sword to his finger. This prevented Zhang Dexing from completing the upward slash, and he couldn't even retract the blade.

“Damn it!”

Seeing this, Zhang Dexing realized he had encountered a true master. His failure to flee immediately was a grave miscalculation. “No—even if I tried to run now, I doubt I could escape this senior!” He considered abandoning the sword but found, in that brief moment, that his entire body had locked up.

Trapped in place, unable to advance or retreat, Zhang Dexing felt suffocated. He cursed fate, thinking how he had finally found a path to longevity, only to be thwarted after taking just a few steps.

“Damn fate! Why do you always make things so difficult for me?”

“Heaven doesn't have time to concern itself with you, so how can it be making things difficult?” Ye Wen was unaware of Zhang Dexing's internal monologue but scoffed at the complaint. “I only ask you this: how many lives have you ruined relying on these lonely spirits?”

Zhang Dexing was slightly manic now. He laughed wildly, “Countless, over decades! My entire cultivation base is mostly derived from the sacrifice of living humans. Are you here to preach righteous conduct?”

Ye Wen shook his head. “Righteous conduct… I don't claim that authority! But I can certainly settle this score for myself!” Saying this, Ye Wen extended his left index finger, and under Zhang Dexing’s horrified gaze, slowly tapped his forehead. “Since you harbored murderous intent toward me, you must accept the consequence of being killed by me! Don't argue; go in peace!”

The words were barely finished when a flash of purple light erupted from Ye Wen’s fingertip, and Zhang Dexing vanished instantly, as if he had never existed!

Turning back, Ye Wen saw the female ghost standing there, her face etched with sheer terror. The figure she viewed as immensely powerful, Zhang Dexing, had simply evaporated—the shock was too profound. As Ye Wen approached her, she opened her mouth to beg for mercy, frantically trying to reform into the seductive, pitiable appearance she had worn earlier, her weakness only enhancing her wretched look.

But before she could speak, Ye Wen cut her off: “Your lifespan ended long ago, yet you have lingered for so many years, harming so many lives. What more is there to cling to? Go in peace as well!” Ye Wen raised a hand and shot out a white lotus. The moment the lotus touched the female ghost, she dissolved into a puff of green smoke, without even time for a shriek.