©WebNovelPub
Just A Daoist Who Occasionally Kicks Ass-Chapter 410: The Mysterious Daoist Temple! Master Liu Er! The Struggle for Lifespan!
“I didn’t expect that deep within this Duanlong Cave, there’d actually be a water bandit stronghold. Seems pirates and river brigands had already been stationed here many years ago,” Zuo Qian spoke in astonishment.
This place was becoming ever more mysterious.
An abandoned bandit fortress from decades past, corpses of foreigners from the Western Regions and the northern frontier, and even that mangy-headed monk who had only recently died here... It all hinted that this place concealed countless secrets.
The air inside the cavern grew increasingly foul; the deeper they went, the heavier the stench of decay became.
Li Yanchu activated his Qi Sight, divine light flickering in his eyes. He could clearly see where the miasma of death was densest.
The three quickened their pace toward that direction, only to find, to their astonishment, a Daoist temple standing quietly ahead.
“Hm?” Li Yanchu’s brows furrowed slightly in surprise.
The ferryman and Zuo Qian were equally bewildered. In a place so ominous and death-ridden, encountering evil spirits or rotting corpses was normal, but a Daoist temple? That was truly beyond reason.
The three exchanged glances, each seeing disbelief in the other’s eyes.
Immediately, Li Yanchu strode forward in great, steady steps. The temple itself was simple and unadorned, imbued with a faint sense of rural tranquility. The walls bore no eerie bloodstains, and the surroundings were free of corpses or decay.
By all appearances, it was an ordinary Daoist temple. And yet, it was precisely because it seemed so normal, that it felt all the more unnerving.
Thud, thud, thud!
Li Yanchu knocked lightly on the door.
The sound was soft, but it was enough to make Zuo Qian and the ferryman both jump in fright. He’s knocking on the door directly?! And... does he actually expect someone to open the door in a place like this?!
After a short while, faint footsteps sounded from behind the door. Then, creak. The wooden door slowly swung open.
Standing there was a young Daoist priestess with rosy lips and pearly-white teeth. She looked about thirteen or fourteen, and she was slim and graceful, with a shy, restrained air.
“Honored guests have arrived once again. Please, come in,” she said softly.
Li Yanchu raised an eyebrow slightly, then gave a small nod and followed her inside. Meanwhile, the ferryman and Zuo Qian exchanged a look, then quickly followed behind.
This scene was quite different from what they had expected. There were no jiangshi with iron bones and copper skin bursting out, nor cunning ghosts lurking behind the door waiting to devour the living. Instead, it was merely a rosy-lipped, clear-eyed young Daoist girl welcoming them.
Zuo Qian suddenly felt a chill rise in his heart, as if remembering something.
He stepped quietly closer to Li Yanchu and whispered, “Daoist Master Yanchu, this girl... she looks a great deal like the fifth young lady of the He family who went missing from the prefectural city.”
The He family’s fifth miss had disappeared years ago, and she had been only twelve at the time. It was impressive that Zuo Qian had recognized the resemblance from memory and an old portrait.
Li Yanchu gave a slight nod. “Be patient. Let’s go in and see what’s going on first.”
With that, the three of them entered a spacious hall.
Inside were already two people seated. One was a young nobleman draped in a fox-fur cloak, the other an elderly man, frail and stooped with age. As they heard footsteps, both turned their heads slightly to look.
When they saw Li Yanchu in his Daoist robes, their expressions flickered for an instant, but realizing the newcomers were fellow guests, their interest quickly faded.
“Please wait here, all three of you,” said the young Daoist girl crisply. “When the time comes, someone will come to invite you in.”
Li Yanchu nodded. “Alright.”
Then, without ceremony, he pulled out a chair and sat down as if he owned the place. Meanwhile, Zuo Qian and the ferryman sat beside him, close enough to feel reassured.
Li Yanchu glanced casually at the two who had been there first. The young noble in fox fur exuded an air of wealth and refinement, but his yang qi was weak, his complexion pale, and his forehead darkened with deathly qi. He was clearly gravely ill, a man with little time left to live.
Even without reading his fortune, one could tell he was weak to the bone. Otherwise, who would wear a fur cloak in springtime, looking that deathly pale?
As for that old man, there was no need to say more. The age spots on his face were starkly visible, and even breathing seemed difficult for him. He was far too old, so old that he looked as though he might keel over and die at any moment.
Now, five people sat together in the same room, yet no one spoke. The silence was heavy and awkward, and the silence was suffocating.
Only the occasional cough from the young nobleman and the labored, heavy breathing of the old man broke the stillness, each sound painfully clear as they echoed one after another, as if forming a strange, grim rhythm.
Even in such an eerie and oppressive place, Zuo Qian couldn’t help himself, and he gave a faint, almost inappropriate smile.
The ferryman, however, wasn’t in any mood for that. His face was dark and unreadable, maintaining the cold, aloof composure.
But when his eyes happened to fall on the old man, his brow suddenly furrowed. He frowned deeper and stared again, then shook his head in confusion.
“That’s... impossible. How could it be?” He muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible, and even that slight change caught Li Yanchu’s attention.
Li Yanchu turned his head toward him. “What is it?”
The ferryman kept his brows knitted. “It’s nothing. It’s just... that old man looks familiar.”
“You know him?” Li Yanchu asked, his tone calm but probing.
The ferryman hesitated, thinking aloud. “If it’s really the person I’m thinking of... he should’ve been dead long ago. How could he possibly still be...”
Before he could finish, the frail old man, who seemed so close to death that he could stop breathing at any moment, lifted his cloudy eyes and looked straight at him.
His voice rasped out like a broken bellows, “You... you’re Gouzi[1]?”
The word sounded harsh, almost like an insult, but the ferryman didn’t take offense.
Instead, his body shook violently, and he suddenly stood up, eyes wide in disbelief. “It’s really you, Second Master Liu! You’re still alive!”
He was visibly moved, his voice trembling as he stepped forward and gave the old man a deep, respectful bow.
Just then... Creaaak! The door to the room opened once again.
The young Daoist girl stepped inside, her voice crisp and clear. “Young Master Xu, it’s your turn.”
The young nobleman in the fox-fur cloak visibly perked up, struggling to his feet and following her out unsteadily, his gait frail and wavering.
The old man, whom the ferryman had called Second Master Liu, watched the young noble leave, his expression full of envy and yearning.
“Second Master,” Elder Chen said softly, “after all these years, how did you end up in a place like this?”
“How come a junior like you can come here, but I can’t?” Second Master Liu glared at Elder Chen.
“How could that be, sir? You go wherever you please, who’d dare stop you?” Chen said with a grin.
Li Yanchu and Zuo Qian exchanged a look, both surprised.
That old ferryman, Chen, was already thin, dry-skinned, and at least in his sixties or seventies. Yet in front of this “Second Master Liu,” he was actually considered a junior!
And what Second Master Liu said next shocked them even more.
“I’m old now. I heard people say there’s a fine place here, so I spent all my life’s savings just to buy a ticket in. Didn’t expect to see you, a lad so young, showing up here too.”
Li Yanchu suddenly asked, “Elder, may I ask... what exactly is this place?”
Second Master Liu froze for a moment, glancing at Li Yanchu, and fell silent. Meanwhile, the ferryman’s heart clenched.
This Second Master Liu was a fengshui master, and his reputation spread all across the empire. He was a legendary figure, not only skilled in feng shui, but also a grandmaster in both ferrying the dead and corpse-herding. His seniority was frighteningly high, and his temper notoriously eccentric.
Elder Chen feared that this old master might end up clashing with this young Daoist. After all, this Daoist Master Li was a man who killed gods if they blocked him, and slew ghosts if they stood in his way; he was basically a walking storm.
Yet unexpectedly, Second Master Liu’s tone was unusually mild.
“Daoist Master,” he said kindly, “I’m here for the first time too. But I heard that this place... it’s said to be one where one can prolong one’s life. They say the temple enshrines the Ultra Supreme Elder Lord and Queen Mother of the West, and that they can defy the heavens, alter fate, and grant borrowed years of life.”
This old man had an unusually gentle attitude, and no dramatic or ridiculous conflict occurred.
1. In Chinese, the term "狗子" literally means “dog” with the diminutive suffix “子.” In everyday speech, calling someone a dog is often derogatory because dogs are traditionally associated with negative traits such as being lowly, subservient, or untrustworthy. ☜







