Chapter 4: Hardships End, Sweetness Begins

Under the Grand Shaman's direction, the attendants moved He Lingchuan, bed and all, so that the last rays of the setting sun could fall upon him.

The jostling during the move caused the Divine Bone Necklace to slide from He Lingchuan's collar onto his pillow, just as a ray of the setting sun reflected into the Grand Shaman's eyes.

The Grand Shaman felt a sudden glare and quickly turned his head away.

He casually picked up the pendant, glanced at it twice, and then dropped it back.

It was just an ordinary jade pendant, though of excellent quality.

"At sunset, yin and yang shift," he explained. "The yang energy has not yet dispersed, and the yin energy has arrived. This is the most appropriate time, as it will not harm the living soul." With that, he lit a bundle of black incense. "This is Spirit-Summoning Incense."

Next, he sequentially burned some fabric and a cicada slough, adding their ashes along with the Spirit-Summoning Incense ash to a bowl of "rootless water." As he stirred, he dropped nine drops of blood from a small rooster's neck into the mixture, murmuring incantations all the while.

He Chunhua leaned in to look, observing that the "rootless water" in the jar was initially a light red with tiny particles floating in it. However, as the Grand Shaman continued his incantations, the water became progressively clearer, until it was indistinguishable from pure water.

At this moment, the setting sun in the west was about to dip behind the mountains, casting its final rays.

It also illuminated the jade pendant that had slipped down He Lingchuan's neck.

"The time is right!" The Grand Shaman raised the jar, took a large gulp of the "rootless water," and then, with a puff, sprayed it into the air above He Lingchuan!

"Appear!"

The sprayed mist did not disperse; instead, it slowly gathered into a vague shape in the air.

He Chunhua shook his head. "It's too blurry, I can't see it clearly."

"He is gravely injured and his spirit is weak, so it's not easy for it to manifest clearly," the Grand Shaman replied. He then took another mouthful of water and sprayed again.

He repeated this process several times.

The last rays of the setting sun illuminated a human face outlined by the mist in mid-air. Its eyebrows, eyes, nose, and facial structure were identical to those of He Lingchuan, who lay below, eyes closed in a coma.

It looked as if it had been drawn directly from his features.

"This time, the Soul-Mirroring Art shows the soul exactly as the person, truly authentic," the Grand Shaman chuckled. "Are you satisfied, Lord Commander?"

His unique, secretly transmitted Soul-Mirroring Art could clearly reveal the appearance of a person's soul. If the person and the soul had identical features and clear lines, it indicated no evil spirit possession. If their appearances differed, the Grand Shaman would then proceed with an exorcism.

He Chunhua, well aware of the Grand Shaman's formidable Soul-Mirroring Art, finally felt a great weight lifted and relaxed. "Thank you, Grand Shaman!"

No sooner had he spoken than the misty face dissipated. Simultaneously, the setting sun also vanished behind the western mountains.

Lord Commander He waved his hand, and the servants swiftly presented the payment.

The remaining attendants moved He Lingchuan's bed back to its original position.

"Lord Commander is as generous as ever," the Grand Shaman said, his expression softening. "I will be leaving for a distant journey the day after tomorrow, but I will visit again tomorrow. I hope the Young Master will awaken by then."

The two men conversed as they walked toward the door.

No one noticed a flash of red light from the Divine Bone Necklace around He Lingchuan's neck.

The Grand Shaman, Zhao Mandu, paused, suddenly sensing something, and looked back.

Everything in the room remained as before; the patient's eyes were still tightly closed.

"What is it?" He Chunhua asked. "Is something wrong?"

The Grand Shaman's gaze swept around the room, but he found nothing amiss. He shook his head. "It's nothing." Then he turned and strode away.

It had been over a month since he was reborn into this world, yet He Lingchuan still frequently recalled his past life.

In his previous life, he worked a mundane job at an ordinary company, earning a modest salary. As a spirited young man, he often felt restless, but no matter how passionately he debated or criticized in private, he always presented a calm, peace-loving demeanor in public.

Society's harsh realities always molded people into the cogs it desired.

Amidst an economic downturn, his company had delayed salaries for three months. That day, he paced outside a restaurant a few times before deciding, out of kindness, to support the small street stall on the corner. After all, it was deep winter, and it was tough for businesses enduring the wind and cold.

"Boss, one jianbing, extra scallions, extra sauce... no egg, no meat... yes, none at all."

No sooner had he finished speaking than he saw a car swerve toward a little girl by the roadside. The driver, panicking, accelerated even faster.

With tragedy unfolding before his eyes, he acted without thinking, doing the bravest and most reckless thing in his life:

He darted forward and scooped up the girl...

Did people think he got hit by the car? No, not at all.

He was unharmed. He returned the child to the rushing parents, even scolding the little one to watch where she was going in the future, and then he turned around.

Just as he crossed the intersection, a heavy object fell from the sky, striking him precisely on the head.

He only felt his vision go black—

"Ah!" He Lingchuan suddenly sat up, rubbing his eyes.

Someone nearby immediately chuckled, "Young Master has woken up?"

He Lingchuan instantly regained his senses. Before him was an exquisite small hall, with two screens depicting strange mountains and winding rivers. In the center was a stage where actors were impeccably dressed and made up. Below, an audience of over two hundred people were cracking melon seeds, drinking tea, and chatting, all now looking up at him.

That's right, he was the Young Master of the He family, currently lying in a private box on the second floor. In the corner, a faintly sweet "Goose Pear Tent Incense" was burning, and on a silver platter nearby, grapes and honeydew melon still bore dewdrops.

This was a playhouse called the "Immortal Gathering Terrace," not outside a hundred-zhang cliff. He Lingchuan subconsciously pressed his neck, then comfortably lay back on the couch. "I'm awake, please continue."

There had originally been four deep tooth marks here, barely half an inch from his carotid artery—the work of a leopard demon. But now they had healed, covered with tender, new pink flesh. He had a dozen other such scars all over his body.

Another young master from a wealthy family, Liu Baobao, was also in the private box. Seeing this, he snapped his fingers at his attendant. The attendant immediately moved to the railing and called down, "The Young Master is awake! Continue!"

The popular opera in Yuan Country prioritized brevity and speed, seeking novelty and uniqueness. It often jumped straight to the main plot without lengthy arias, making it popular even with young people, who enjoyed it like a story. Today, the Immortal Gathering Terrace had prepared two new plays, featuring renowned performers. However, not long after the performance began, Young Master He upstairs had fallen asleep. The next act was a fierce martial arts scene, and Liu Baobao, fearing he might disturb He Lingchuan's pleasant dreams, had called for a halt mid-performance.

This wait lasted for more than half an hour, leading to some mild grumbling from the audience below. Fortunately, the main figure had now awakened.

The soft sounds of strings and flutes from downstairs resumed, and a clear, cold male voice sang, "Now, the Golden Ox, the protective divine beast unleashed by the Kingdom of Xiluo, was invincible—"

He Lingchuan frowned.

Why was it still this play?

He had fallen asleep listening to this very play earlier. Was it starting again?

Liu Baobao noticed his expression and immediately chuckled, "Don't you like it, Brother Chuan?"

He Lingchuan slowly replied, "It's rather dull."

In fact, this was a special performance arranged by Liu Baobao; he was the one paying, having personally selected the leading performers over two months ago. The Immortal Gathering Terrace had spent a fortune to bring this entire opera troupe from the mainland to Blackwater City, a place famously desolate.