Chapter Sixty-Two: Exorcising the Spirit!! (Please keep reading, please keep reading)

This shout seemed to trigger a chain reaction.

One after another, the rest rushed down the stairs.

Indeed, when there had been a crowd, when so many others were there with them, they could still wait in uneasy silence. But as the other wounded had been led away to have the evil spirits exorcised, only a few remained on the second floor of the pharmacy, and fear began to gnaw at their hearts.

Especially after what had happened the previous night—two people, possessed by ghosts, had been driven to suicide. That terror, that helplessness... it left a chill running down their spines.

The key was—the day was wearing on. As soon as the sun went down, night would fall. In the daylight, the things possessing them might slumber quietly, but once night fell, they would certainly awaken. Who knew how any of them had survived the first night? They were all immensely grateful to still be alive.

But they understood perfectly well: if no one came to help them through the second night, they were doomed.

Before, they had pinned their hopes on the Office for Subduing Darkness. Yet Lord Wu of that office had only shown his face once and had not appeared again. Now, they’d just learned from their families that trouble had broken out at the authorities as well—a great disturbance, with heavy losses at the Office for Subduing Darkness. They could no longer sit still.

“What are you trying to do?” came a voice from downstairs.

In the absence of Manager Su, Steward Zhou was in charge. Hearing the commotion, he immediately hurried over.

“Get out of the way… don’t block us!” the leader shouted fiercely, rushing forward.

He was quick, but Steward Zhou was faster. With a swift grab, he seized the man’s arm and, with a skilled twist and press, halted his charge and brought him down in one smooth motion.

“Let me go! I want to go home…” the man shouted, his eyes wild with desperation.

At that moment, the other four also came rushing down from upstairs.

Among them was Master Qian Qian, the pharmacy’s resident herbalist. Seeing Steward Zhou restrain the first man, he darted around and made for the door.

He too did not wish to die. Staying here meant certain death.

Especially after witnessing “Little Ma” plead with him to end his suffering, only to commit suicide before his eyes—and then feeling that ghostly shadow fix its gaze on him, climbing onto his back.

In that instant, a thousand curses had surged to his lips.

But as soon as he set foot out of the room, a tremendous force struck.

Boom!

He and the other four were hurled back, landing hard inside the pharmacy.

“Manager Su!” Qian Qian recognized the newcomer.

Along with Manager Su were Wu Hong from the Office for Subduing Darkness, who had appeared that morning, and a middle-aged Daoist priest in ceremonial robes.

Their faces darkened at the sight. The Daoist priest quickly barked, “No one move! I’ll drive the things out of you.”

With those words, he raised his horsetail whisk. Somehow, the fine hairs stood upright, bristling with energy.

He aimed at one of the men and lashed out with force.

Bang!

The man felt a sudden pressure in his chest, then a profound sense of relief, as if something had been expelled from his body.

At that moment, Wu Hong sprang into action.

From his hand, he produced an antique porcelain bowl. With a deft flip, he pressed it down swiftly in front of him.

The bowl trembled violently in his grip, as if something inside it was struggling with all its might. After a long moment, under Wu Hong’s control, the motion finally subsided. He moved forward, carefully lowering the bowl onto a clear patch of floor.

“These two are both masters,” observed Chen Yushu, one of the apprentices, who had come out to watch the commotion with the others.

Unlike the rest, who only saw mysterious movements, Chen Yushu saw everything with perfect clarity.

He could truly see the spectral entities possessing the five.

Four lesser ghosts, and one vengeful spirit.

He was certain of the latter, because the red aura around it was far deeper than the day before. Yesterday it had been a faint red; now, it was a fiery orange-red—clearly, after claiming a life last night, it had grown more ferocious and fully transformed into a vengeful spirit.

In his eyes, the middle-aged Daoist had lashed out with his whisk, striking the lesser ghost from the man’s back, and Wu Hong from the Office for Subduing Darkness had quickly suppressed it with the porcelain bowl.

It had all happened in a flash.

In the blink of an eye, a lesser ghost had been subdued.

“These two—both are true masters. And whether it’s the whisk or the bowl, they must be magical instruments. Ordinary relics could never wield such power.”

But what, Chen Yushu wondered, was the true measure of their cultivation?

A sudden light flickered in his eyes.

Aura-Viewing Technique!

At that moment, he activated the Aura-Viewing Technique, the second arcane art taught to him by Liu Qiao’er.

He had learned it that very morning, after mastering the Shadow-Subduing Method.

Compared to the Shadow-Subduing Method, the Aura-Viewing Technique was easier to execute. So long as one had sufficient cultivation, it could be activated by running spiritual energy through the eyes in a particular way.

And then, he saw—above Wu Hong’s head and on his left shoulder, two columns of light, like sticks of incense, shone forth.

Over the middle-aged Daoist, a column of light stood above his head, and one over each shoulder—three in total.

“So, Wu Hong has the cultivation of two sticks of incense, and the Daoist has three?” In an instant, Chen Yushu understood.

He then looked at the ghosts. Through the Aura-Viewing Technique, their forms and movements were rendered even clearer. The dense, malignant energy coiling around them was revealed in stark detail.

The strongest—undeniably—was the red vengeful spirit, still clinging tightly to the man subdued by Steward Zhou.

Next was the one on Qian Qian’s back, its aura equally terrifying.

Perhaps because of the proximity, the ghost on Qian Qian had raised its head, glaring at Wu Hong and the Daoist, a wary glint flickering in its ghastly, bluish features.

“Continue!” the Daoist commanded, his voice ringing out again. “Old Su, hold him steady.”

“Yes!” Manager Su answered, quickly stepping forward to support one of the afflicted.

The Daoist raised his whisk once more and struck down hard.

Boom!

The man’s body shuddered.

A lesser ghost was blasted out.

Wu Hong moved with blinding speed, producing a bell-shaped object with a flick of his hand. With a forceful swing, the bell flew out...