Distorted World

Emergency.

In ancient storybooks, there was a tale of a jade-faced fox. This fox could transform into a beautiful woman with an enchanting appearance so captivating that one glance would render anyone unable to look away. The fox practiced demon arts, feeding on human blood and hearts, and took pleasure in listening to the dying cries of humans. Once passing through a cemetery, knowing it to be a place for the dead, she couldn't help but clap her hands in admiration at the sight of burning paper offerings filling the sky. Thereafter, she often wore clothes of the same color as those paper offerings and emerged late at night to kill and feed. People were captivated by her beauty and never suspected her.

"A beast like this, having cultivated for barely two hundred years, is likely eager to take human form for easier gains." Bai Changming, dressed in everyday attire, casually flipped through a few pages of a supernatural novel he had bought from the street, then closed the book and handed it to his butler who followed behind.

"What did you say?" The butler walked on, half-listening to something about cultivation and human forms.

"We're here. Wait for me here; if there are any requests from the court, tell them I have an appointment and they should come back tomorrow." With that, he looked towards the wooden sign reading "Lin'an Temple" and entered.

The butler withdrew as instructed, long accustomed to his master's ways.

Upon stepping inside, a sudden overwhelming sense of suffocation pressed down from all directions, making his heart feel as if it were being gripped. In the blink of an eye, it vanished, leaving only clear streams and bamboo shadows under a calm sky.

With a string of successful promotions and a subconscious disbelief in the existence of magic outside himself, Bai Changming let his guard down. He merely considered it his natural aversion as a demon to the old monk's Buddhist teachings. Unperturbed, he continued walking inward.

A young-looking monk greeted him with a bow and led him to Master Nianchu’s quarters after whispering a few words.

Navigating through winding halls and corridors, the proportion of Lengyan incense increased, though its presence was concealed. His pride made him overlook much of his diminished magical abilities and awareness, continuing forward undeterred.

Stopping before a room, the young monk knocked and sought permission to enter, then politely instructed Bai Changming to wait and left.

Master had said no demon could remain indifferent to Lengyan incense. Secretary Bai hadn’t shown any reaction despite prolonged exposure—could it be that Master’s judgment was clouded by age?

As soon as he stepped into the room, the door slammed shut behind him.

Inside, there was neither table nor chair, save for an incense burner and a meditation cushion. Monk Nianchu sat cross-legged on the cushion and slowly opened his eyes. "Patron, today, the old monk has not invited a guest."

"This is hardly how one treats guests, High Priest. Most of Liuzhou City answers to me, including this small Lin'an Temple. If your temple is in need, just inform me beforehand, why resort to such cheap tricks with inferior jade to mock us?"

"Amitabha, Dust Fragrance." The seal on the Lengyan incense fell off, revealing its true scent. Each stick was blessed and empowered by the Buddha's seal, spreading its aroma throughout the room.

"You!" Bai Changming felt a surge of panic, his mind fogging up as he staggered backward, grabbing hold of a nearby pillar. Raising his hand, claws appeared, launching three sharp blades towards Nianchu.

Behind him, the tightly shut wooden door revealed a lotus-shaped array pattern, outlined in gold—a demon-suppressing Buddhist spell!

"The imperial secretary, wielding immense power, is actually a demon. Is there anything more absurd in this world?" Nianchu stood up, sighing deeply.

Golden light flashed within the room, every character on the walls glaring like vengeful Buddhas, pressing down upon him with overwhelming force. Bai Changming’s head throbbed painfully, his body writhing in agony, his remaining magic barely functional. Yet, he leaned against the pillar without falling to his knees.

"Demon, surely you've heard the tale of the jade-faced fox. Without restraint, demons wreak havoc across the land—an affront to heaven's will. Amitabha, our compassionate Buddha saves all beings. Today, I shall cleanse you in the name of Buddhism, restoring righteousness!"

Each mention of suppression and heavenly justice reminded him of shamans. For over a thousand years, demons and Buddhists had argued their points fiercely, each claiming absolute truth, yet all striving to prove the same concept of heavenly justice. He couldn't help but smile bitterly.

"Monk, among the myriad beings, you aren't the only living soul. Humans live, demons live, ghosts live. Today, you may overpower me and end my life, but you cannot erase me, nor do you have the right to claim authority over what you call heavenly justice." His voice was weak but steady.

After several rounds of confrontation, his clothes were torn in many places by swirling characters, and more blood seeped out. Despite preaching compassion, the old monk’s spells repeatedly aimed to kill.

"Monk, when you exterminate demons and vanquish spirits, have you ever thought about 'compassion'?"