I Just Wanted to Teach Cultivation, But Goddesses Keep Coming!-Chapter 264 The Oracle Predicts a Night of Constant Friction

Chapter 264: Chapter 264 The Oracle Predicts a Night of Constant Friction

Meanwhile, in another part of the city, the effects of Lin Feng’s actions earlier that day were still sending ripples through those who had witnessed them.

"It seems like you’ve got another one of those cases, Zhang San," the old supervisor remarked, his aged eyes narrowing slightly as he looked over the situation.

"Are you going to be fine managing all of them, or do you require additional help?"

The man he addressed, an extremely large and heavyset figure, wiped the sweat from his forehead and forced a confident grin.

"I’m good here, Master. I’ll take care of everything," Zhang San said, patting his chest reassuringly. "I’ve handled situations like this before. I know exactly how to work the body and settle things properly."

On the surface, he appeared calm and experienced, the very image of someone in control.

But beneath that composed exterior, his thoughts were anything but steady.

It’s that old monster Lin Feng again!

The old supervisor studied him for a moment longer, as if trying to see through his calm expression, before finally nodding.

"Very well. As long as you’re confident, I won’t interfere," he said. Then his expression turned serious, his tone lowering slightly. "But listen carefully, Zhang San. If you ever encounter someone named Lin Feng in this city, do not, under any circumstances, block his path."

Zhang San straightened immediately, his expression turning solemn.

"Bow your head. Show the utmost respect," the old man continued. "From what I’ve seen... even true Foundation Establishment experts are no match for him. If people at that level cannot stand against him, then mortals like us..." He trailed off, shaking his head slowly. "We wouldn’t even have the chance to regret it."

A heavy silence followed those words.

"I understand, Master," he said seriously. "I will remember your words."

The old supervisor gave a final nod, then turned and began to walk away.

"Good. Keep up the work," he said without looking back.

Zhang San watched him leave, his large frame bending forward into a deep, respectful bow.

"Thank you for your guidance, Master. I will engrave your words into my heart," he said sincerely.

Only after the old man’s figure disappeared from sight did Zhang San slowly straighten up.

His smile faded.

"...Lin Feng," he muttered under his breath, his eyes flickering with lingering shock and unease.

For the first time in a long while, he felt something close to fear.

"I don’t believe this is a coincidence anymore..." Zhang San muttered, a trace of fear creeping into his voice.

He didn’t even spare a glance for the handsome Master Xie Yan, who lay frozen and unmoving on the table.

His mind raced at an incredible speed, thoughts colliding and rearranging as everything began to make a terrifying kind of sense.

One minute passed.

Then, he moved.

Bang!

With a sudden motion, he dragged the table carrying Xie Yan’s rigid body across the floor.

The sound echoed faintly as he hauled it toward a hidden room... one he rarely showed to others.

Inside, the air was heavy.

Several figures lay scattered around, all in similar half-living states.

First it had been Mo Yan and his gang members. Then Guo Han. And now... even Master Xie Yan.

Zhang San’s breathing grew heavier as he stared at them.

Once could be dismissed. Twice could be called coincidence.

But three times?

Even a fool would realize something was terribly wrong.

"...This is no accident," he whispered, his voice tightening.

Thud!

He shut the doors behind him, and at once, a defensive formation activated, faint lines of light flickering across the walls as the room sealed itself.

Only then did Zhang San reach into his storage ring.

Carefully, almost reverently, he took out a small wooden stick.

It looked completely ordinary and rough, unpolished, no different from a piece of scrap wood one might find on the roadside.

It was no longer than his palm.

Yet the way he held it suggested otherwise.

His hands were steady, but his eyes carried a hint of unease.

Moving to the center of the room, Zhang San sat down in a lotus position.

He placed the stick upright before him, ensuring it stood perfectly straight.

Then, he closed his eyes.

His lips began to move, muttering ancient, obscure words that carried a strange rhythm.

"Whow... bag gang... ateh oys..."

The chant sounded broken, unnatural, as if it did not belong to this era.

A faint stillness filled the room.

When the final word left his lips, Zhang San slowly released the stick.

Tak!

It tipped.

Falling toward him.

In that instant, Zhang San’s pupils shrank violently, a chill piercing straight into his soul.

To him, it felt like a death sentence had just been pronounced.

"No, no, no... this has to be a mistake!" Zhang San said in a panic.

He quickly steadied himself and tried again.

Tak.

The stick fell toward him.

His breathing grew heavier.

Again.

Tak.

And again.

Tak.

Over and over, no matter how many times he repeated the ritual, the result never changed.

The stick always tipped in the same direction... toward him.

Each fall felt heavier than the last, like a hammer striking against his heart.

In the end, Zhang San froze, staring blankly at the small wooden stick on the floor.

Several minutes passed in complete silence, his mind struggling to process the outcome.

"...No way out," he muttered hoarsely.

A bitter smile spread across his face as he shook his head slowly.

"I can’t escape this."

He had already used divination to test every possibility. Leaving the city led to certain death.

Avoiding the situation entirely led to the same end.

Every path he could think of and every possible future ended in a dead end.

He predicted fourteen million possible futures, and yet...

Only one outcome remained consistent.

If he stayed in Clear Moon City... he might live.

"...To be targeted by an old monster like Lin Feng..." Zhang San sighed deeply, a trace of helplessness in his voice.

"That’s a fate I never saw coming." His fat cheeks trembled with unconscious panic as he spoke.

He took a long breath, forcing himself to calm down.