To lay down one's life for someone who could scarcely be called a friend—what a pitiful, senseless sacrifice that would be.
"I'm sorry. I'll leave right away..." Ling Cai said again to Mo Lin.
He had caved.
It wasn't that he was unwilling to intervene—it was that he simply didn't dare.
"Chen Xi, let him go," Mo Lin commanded calmly.
At his word, Chen Xi withdrew her hand from Ling Cai's throat.
Ling Cai instinctively reached for his neck. His fingers came away sticky with fresh blood; a shallow wound had been left behind.
Yet he dared not complain. He turned quickly to leave.
But as he walked away, he couldn't help glancing back.
He wanted to see what kind of ghost could be so terrifying.
When his eyes fell upon Chen Xi, he froze for a moment.
His first thought: How can a ghost... look so beautiful?
And then, like a tidal wave, a suffocating aura engulfed him.
The pressure was so immense, it left him gasping for air.
"Urgh... urgh..."
The sheer terror triggered a violent reaction—he vomited on the spot.
The moment their eyes met, Ling Cai felt as though his very soul was about to scatter.
It was a feeling that pierced straight through to the spirit.
And it was only her aura.
Nightmare-class.
Without a doubt, that ghost was of the nightmare class.
And among nightmare-class entities, she was clearly one of the most powerful.
Run!
That was the only thought pounding in Ling Cai's head.
He scrambled to his feet and fled in utter panic.
Inwardly, he was filled with relief.
Relief that he had begged for mercy in time, and hadn't tried to act tough.
Relief that Mo Lin hadn't decided to make an example of him.
His back was soaked with sweat.
He felt as if he had just brushed past death itself.
Slap!
Ling Cai slapped himself across the face, cursing aloud, "Serves you right for meddling!"
What a fool...
Today had certainly taught him a painful lesson.
…
Yuan Cao watched Ling Cai's silhouette disappear into the distance, and his heart sank into utter despair.
His final shred of hope had been extinguished.
Everything was crumbling to dust.
Mo Lin looked at Yuan Cao as if he were already a corpse.
"Make him disappear," he said coldly.
"No... please, no..." Yuan Cao pleaded, desperate to appeal for mercy.
But it was useless—Mo Lin was not one to be swayed.
It was laughable, really.
Moments ago, this man had been set on killing Mo Lin, and now he was groveling at his feet.
Did he think Mo Lin was some saintly pushover?
Even good men shouldn't be taken for fools.
"Young man, killing someone in broad daylight... isn't that going too far?"
Another meddler had stepped forward.
An elderly man with a head full of white hair slowly emerged, trying to reason with Mo Lin.
What kind of luck is this Yuan Cao riding on? First one man had tried to speak on his behalf, and now another?
Whatever patience Mo Lin had left was rapidly being worn away.
At this moment, he found himself wondering—why are there so many self-righteous fools in this world?
One after another, they popped out of nowhere to stick their noses where they didn't belong.
Did they think he was easy to push around?
"Who are you?" Mo Lin asked, his voice heavy with irritation.
"I am Kun Xuan," the old man introduced himself slowly. "Some call me the Fire Talisman Celestial Master."
There was a flash of pride in his eyes as he uttered the title.
The moment those words left his lips, the crowd stirred.
Yuan Cao, whose face had been painted with despair, now lit up with renewed hope.
He wasn't doomed yet.
"Master Kun, please save me!" Yuan Cao cried out.
Feng Mingyu furrowed her brow. This is troublesome.
The Fire Talisman Celestial Master had actually shown up.
At his level, there weren't many who would dare defy him.
Feng Mingyu glanced at Mo Lin subconsciously… Well, perhaps this one's an exception.
If possible, she hoped Mo Lin would avoid clashing with a figure like Kun Xuan.
The title of Celestial Master wasn't just for show—behind it stood the mighty Celestial Master Sect, with its legion of disciples.
This could get very messy.
"Young man, your anger is far too heavy. Killing may not be the answer," Kun Xuan said again, gently trying to dissuade Mo Lin.
Perhaps it was just his nature to speak this way.
But the moment those words fell upon Mo Lin's ears, revulsion surged within him.
A self-righteous hypocrite? Playing at being some living Buddha?
Has he never heard: "Do not preach kindness without knowing another's suffering"?
"I'm afraid killing is the only resolution today," Mo Lin replied coldly.
"Young people these days… always so hot-tempered. Carrying such murderous intent is not good," Kun Xuan said.
He had come to Yunchuan seeking the Thunder Talisman, and had only intervened upon witnessing the scene.
"He is human, not some beast. His life is precious—why not spare it?" Kun Xuan tried once more.
"Human?" Mo Lin sneered. "That man is worse than a beast. I won't show him mercy."
He wants to play the benevolent elder and have Mo Lin pay the price?
In his dreams.
"Do me a favor and let him go," Kun Xuan finally said, invoking his status.
Ordinarily, these words would carry tremendous weight.
"Sorry, I don't owe you anything," Mo Lin said bluntly.
A meddling old man, barking self-important nonsense.
The only reason Mo Lin hadn't struck him was because of his white hair—he didn't want to bully the elderly.
Had he been any younger, Mo Lin would have punched him in the face already.
So much pointless chatter…
"Stay out of this," Mo Lin said with finality, clearly done entertaining the old man.
"Sigh... are all young people so impulsive these days?" Kun Xuan muttered. "To kill is to sin..."
Mo Lin had reached his limit.
This old man won't shut up.
When Yuan Cao had tried to kill him, not one person had stepped up to intervene.
But now that he was about to retaliate, suddenly all these righteous busybodies appeared out of nowhere.
What kind of lunacy is this?
"Are you mentally ill?" Mo Lin snapped.
"Yuan Cao must die today. Even if the King of Hell himself stood in my way, it would change nothing. I have spoken."
He made his stance clear as day.
Feng Mingyu took a deep breath.
As expected.
Mo Lin was now openly clashing with the Fire Talisman Celestial Master.
From the looks of it, they were one wrong word away from a full-blown battle.
"If you want to save him, then draw your weapon," Mo Lin said icily.
The moment those words left his mouth, the air around them thickened with ghostly presences.
Nightmare-class ghost: Chen Xi.Nightmare-class ghost: Chu Xing.Nightmare-class ghost: Hong Ye.Nightmare-class ghost: Bing Yu.
Four nightmare-class ghosts emerged from the shadows, encircling Kun Xuan from four different directions.
Mo Lin himself brandished a blue longsword, pointing it directly at the elder.
Kun Xuan instinctively pulled out a crimson talisman, holding it between his index and middle fingers.
"Four nightmare-class ghosts... You're quite something, young man," Kun Xuan couldn't help but praise.
This was no hollow compliment—it was genuine awe.
Most would be hard-pressed to contract even two powerful spirits.
Yet Mo Lin had summoned four, all of nightmare caliber.
In all of Yunchuan, there was likely no second person capable of such a feat.
Even within the hallowed halls of the Celestial Master Sect, no one could match this.
Feng Mingyu, watching from the sidelines, couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration.
Truly, Mo Lin was formidable.
He feared no one.
To him, the word "fear" might as well not exist.
Anyone who dared provoke him would find him ready to go toe-to-toe.
He would never back down.
Not even before a Celestial Master.
Impressive... truly impressive.