Take It Away

"The tactics aren't new, but they were carried out covertly, and with great patience. Before they made their move, the Evil Spirit Sect didn't rely on brute force; instead, they actually spent a fair amount of spirit stones to bribe the local incense gods."

"A gift comes with obligations. With their lavish spending, they managed to gain a foothold in the early stages."

At the peak of a small hill outside the town.

Zheng Zhaoling held a jade token aloft with her spiritual power, her gaze piercing through the crowd toward the temple, where incense smoke drifted unceasingly, and continued:

"Without intelligence from the front lines, if we'd let them carry on like this in the shadows, we might not have noticed anything unusual for quite some time."

"The water in the tub isn't clean either; drinking it will cause trouble."

Cui Hao stood obediently beside her, nodding repeatedly:

"That's exactly right."

Hearing this, Zheng Zhaoling cast a strange glance at Cui Hao, scrutinizing his expression and demeanor. It was still the same face, but it carried a hint of flattery. She looked at him with disgust and said:

"What kind of expression is that? It's disgusting."

"This is a look of admiration. What, doesn't it seem that way?"

"It does, but it's still disgusting. If you've messed something up, just say it directly. Don't torture my eyes like this."

"Oh... I stepped in to save a dying believer."

"It sounds like a small matter, but knowing your level, it probably isn't that minor." Zheng Zhaoling's gaze shifted back to the incense-shrouded shrine and continued,

"But since it was saving someone, I can't blame you. To be honest, if it were me, I might have done the same. Let's call it payment for a potential future me. I won't make trouble for you, so wipe that look off your face."

"I'd even accept it if you'd torn down the shrine."

Cui Hao nodded repeatedly, then said softly:

"It's nothing major, and I didn't tear down the shrine. But the temple keeper looked pretty sharp; I'm worried he might figure out, based on the person I saved, that someone's already watching the place. To avoid future trouble, I figured I'd better mention it now. That way, if things go wrong later, you can't just blame me."

Zheng Zhaoling sighed helplessly: "Why do you use all that cleverness on me? Can't you focus it on the current situation?"

Cui Hao cupped his hands directly, then spoke like a subordinate: "I have a small proposal, awaiting the approval of Lady Zhaoling."

"Then report your proposal." Zheng Zhaoling nodded lightly, her gaze drifting into the distance, truly acting like a commander.

Cui Hao lowered his hands, looking toward the shrine and said:

"They win over believers, so we'll target their believers."

Zheng Zhaoling looked at him with a wary expression at these words, then waited for a long while without hearing Cui Hao continue. Seeing this, she didn't hesitate and slapped him hard on the shoulder.

The blow carried considerable force.

Cui Hao winced in pain, gritting his teeth.

Though Cui Hao hadn't elaborated, Zheng Zhaoling picked up on his unfinished thought and said:

"You mean we should set up our own shrine and compete for their believers? Even if we win, we'd likely alert the enemy. If we're going to put in that much effort, we might as well just charge in and smash their shrine, following the leads we've got to fight our way through."

Cui Hao rubbed his shoulder, feeling like his arm had been nearly dislocated, but he knew if he didn't want a second hit, he'd better make his plan clear.

"When doing fieldwork, it's best to drop the decent faction's attitude."

"If you want to truly outplay these evil cultivators, don't compete with them on their strengths—compete on their weaknesses."

"They work on believers, so we work on their believers."

"The crudest method is to slip some croton beans into their water jars, sending those fervent believers scrambling to the latrines with burning stomachs."

"Or spread some rumors, pick a few loyal followers, and use illusions to craft some horror stories."

"Like tales of the incense gods whispering at night, feasting on human flesh, or children grinding their teeth."

"With a few good rounds of this, I guarantee the incense shrine will fall into chaos. If we play it right, the temple might even be branded a demonic shrine. Then we can fan the flames, and things might end up being torn down just as they were built."

"It's effortless and simple, without spending much energy."

"After all, there's an old saying: 'A failure can spoil things more than a success can make them.' Doing bad things isn't that hard."

"Also, didn't you mention the Evil Spirit Sect sharing spirit stones to make friends?"

"Isn't Yunze one of those down-and-out grass spirits who'd sell their own fur for cash? Call them in for a little plunder-let them get a taste. It'll make them more obedient to our arrangements."

"Besides, this kind of foul play might not expose us. It'll just make those evil cultivators think their incense god's a lousy manager-taking the money and still causing chaos."

"Split the Evil Spirit Sect's spirit stones, mess up their plans, force them to change tactics, and see if there's anything beyond Master's intelligence."

"Because I feel Master's true aim isn't just for us to figure out the Evil Spirit Sect, but to find out more about the demon lurking behind them."

Cui Hao finished speaking, his gaze sharp and distant, as if lost in thought.

Zheng Zhaoling also fell into thought upon hearing this, her eyes unconsciously shifting to Cui Hao.

Now she understood what Cui Hao meant by competing on weaknesses.

Indeed, if all you wanted was to ruin things... it really wasn't that hard.

Cui Hao's scheme was wild yet laced with a strange ingenuity.

At Gu Ye Ting, the estate of Elder Zhao.

As the town's sole grand and wealthy manor house, the Zhao family made their fortune through smuggling and trading. Rumors held that they had connections with immortals above and officials below, with roots so deep in the town they were practically impenetrable.

Their methods could even be said to command the wind and rain—some said even immortals would act on their behalf.

How could mere mortals compete with immortals?

They kept a pack of thugs on hand, and their sprawling mansion in the town center was a display of opulence.

In this ironclad hierarchy, Elder Zhao was the pinnacle.

Yet despite all the whispers of ties to immortals, Elder Zhao knew the truth: his ordinary wealth could only bully the common folk and never catch the eye of true immortals. Those rumors were carefully spread by him, just to get local officials to turn a blind eye to his smuggling.

Though it was a crude trick, the atmosphere of Northern Jambūdvīpa made it surprisingly effective.

Elder Zhao also understood one principle: burn incense where it burns brightest.

The Lord Zijun Temple, a newly risen incense god, had instantly lit up the entire Gu Ye Ting.

Naturally, Elder Zhao, cloaked in the guise of an immortal patron, had to pay his respects.

More than that, he had to spend generously.

Most of the Lord Zijun Temple's funds came from Elder Zhao.

Soon, a new rumor spread once more: Elder Zhao had struck up a relationship with the newly arrived Lord Zijun.

The rumor, of course, was started by Elder Zhao himself.

But it was also what he hoped for.

Because one bowl of sacred water had actually cured his long-standing impotence.

Though one dose only lasted for one occasion, before he couldn't even get started at all.

Squire Zhao had come to truly believe, from the depths of his heart, that Lord Zijun was a completely different sort of deity—a good incense god who could genuinely bring blessings to the people.

He had a golden statue made and spent money to spread the word.

Squire Zhao’s fervent devotion burned through the entire town, and everyone could see it clearly.

But today, this same Squire Zhao had suddenly become somewhat unhinged.

At dawn, a servant saw Squire Zhao running back to his mansion in his pajamas, his expression full of terror and panic. The lower half of his body seemed to be wet, and he was barefoot as he rushed through the door.

His face was filled with fear, his words slurred and incoherent. When his wife asked what had happened, Squire Zhao only clamped his mouth shut, refusing to utter a single word.

His wife thought he might have been frightened out of his wits, so she hastily brought a bowl of Lord Zijun’s sacred water.

Squire Zhao, his complexion as pale as paper, kept his lips tightly sealed and remained silent.

But the moment he saw his wife carrying the bowl of Lord Zijun’s sacred water,

the squire—who had refused to speak all morning—finally broke his silence. His voice quivered with sheer horror, and his body almost collapsed into the chair.

Almost wailing, Squire Zhao cried out:

“Take it away! Take it away right now! I won’t drink it! I won’t drink it anymore!”