Seeking Fortune and Avoiding Misfortune: Starting from the Celestial Master’s Mansion
Chapter 113: In front of the monk, cough cough

Lei Jun struck down with his short staff.

The Gao Family disciple’s eyes rolled back.

Without even making a sound, he was about to collapse silently.

The arrow he had already drawn on the bowstring was just about to be loosed.

Lei Jun’s other hand, already prepared, slapped a Tranquility Talisman onto him.

The lifeless body of the disciple remained rigid, frozen in place.

Even his arms stayed tense, still holding the bowstring and arrow.

From a distance, everything looked just as before.

No one would know that the back of the Gao Family disciple’s skull had caved in.

With the Night Wind granted by the Wind Thunder Talisman, Lei Jun’s strikes to the head made no sound.

It might have lacked a bit of satisfaction, but overall, Lei Jun was pleased with the result.

Though these Gao Family disciples only had Lower Heavens cultivation, they practiced the Confucian archery tradition, making them exceptionally keen and reactive.

Yet under the combined effects of Lei Jun’s Heavenly General Talisman and Wind Thunder Talisman, he still managed to silently approach one archer after another stationed on the mountain’s high points.

Then, like playing a game of whack-a-mole, he struck each one down with a single blow.

After clearing the perimeter, Lei Jun descended the mountain and entered the valley.

In the valley, other Gao Family disciples were scattered around the crevices, lying in ambush. They were poised to attack the moment their target emerged from the fissure below.

But after a while with no sign of Lei Jun, doubt crept into their minds.

If their target hadn’t gone into the fissure but had already left Qiluo Valley, they were wasting their time.

Wasting time wasn’t the worst part. The real concern was missing this rare opportunity.

A chance to eliminate a promising Tianshi Mansion disciple in complete secrecy was hard to come by.

The middle-aged Confucian scholar leading them glanced around, his brow furrowed.

Someone beside him whispered, “Third Uncle, could it be…?”

“Wait a little longer,” the middle-aged scholar instructed. “If nothing happens soon, we’ll decide then.”

The order was passed along, and the Gao Family disciples complied.

One young man hid carefully behind a rock near the fissure, his full attention on the dark crevice ahead.

He didn’t look away, trusting those on the high ground to spot any other threats.

His job was simple: strike when someone emerged from the fissure.

With one hand on his sword hilt and the other on the sheath, he slowly drew his sword, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves.

And then…

He was out of breath.

A short staff, thick at one end and thin at the other, struck him.

Lei Jun held the thin end, while the thick end smashed into the back of the young man’s head.

A Tranquility Talisman was slapped on, freezing the lifeless body in place.

Lei Jun, moving like a night breeze, slipped away silently, searching for his next target.

The middle-aged scholar grew increasingly suspicious as time passed with no sign of Lei Jun.

He ordered, “Call everyone back. But don’t be hasty.”

Two disciples nodded and went around the fissure to relay the message.

Everyone remained on high alert, fearing that their target might emerge at any moment.

The middle-aged scholar continued to stare at the fissure, his suspicion mounting.

No one was returning, not even the two who were sent to call the others.

Something’s wrong!

Yet the sentries on the high ground hadn’t sounded any alarms or loosed any arrows.

A chill ran through the scholar’s heart, his hairs standing on end.

The afternoon sun still shone brightly, but he felt as if he’d seen a ghost in broad daylight.

“Show yourself, demon!” he roared, raising his sword.

A surge of scholarly energy erupted around him, manifesting as a righteous, formidable aura.

Sword Qi burst forth like rain in all directions.

As the Sword Qi spread, a warning bell rang in his mind.

He leaped into the air, his eyes scanning the area.

No sign of the enemy—just one of his kin running back, eyes wide with confusion and fear.

It was his son.

The scholar’s eyes widened in horror. Above his son’s head, a short staff was raised high.

“Dong!”

“Thud!”

Lei Jun didn’t bother keeping quiet this time.

The staff struck down, and the young Gao disciple crumpled to the ground without a sound.

“Wretched fiend!” the scholar roared, descending in a fury. His sword thrust forward, merging his vast Sword Qi into a torrential river that surged toward Lei Jun.

Lei Jun remained calm.

He combined his Heavenly General Talisman with a high-level Mountain-Cleaving Talisman exclusive to the Tianshi Mansion.

Power surged around him, his already imposing figure seeming to grow taller, like a Daoist war god descending to Earth.

His short staff elongated, becoming a long staff.

Facing the oncoming river of Sword Qi, Lei Jun swung his staff.

The scholar was flung back even faster than he had charged, his Sword Qi river split down the middle.

His sword shattered, and blood sprayed from his mouth as he crashed into the forest.

Lei Jun arched a brow, watching the forest.

Soon, a middle-aged monk emerged, carrying the severely injured scholar.

The scholar, now blood-soaked, was barely clinging to life.

“Buddha’s mercy,” the monk said, gently setting the scholar down. He clasped his hands together and turned to Lei Jun. “Young Daoist, isn’t your strike too ruthless? Though our paths differ, we are both outsiders. Shouldn’t we show some compassion?”

Lei Jun ignored the injured scholar, his gaze fixed on the monk. “What’s your name, monk?”

The monk remained calm. “I am De Xiang of Xuanyan Temple. Are you a disciple of Tianshi Mansion?”

Xuanyan Temple—one of the Four Holy Lands of Buddhism in the northern Jinzhou region.

Lei Jun’s eyes narrowed. “You already know who I am. Why ask?”

De Xiang said, “I happened to pass by and couldn’t bear to see such bloodshed. I hoped to mediate…”

Lei Jun interrupted, “Before you became a monk, was your surname Ye or Gao?”

“Monks leave behind worldly attachments,” De Xiang replied smoothly.

Lei Jun smirked. “You understand attachment well—picking up what you claim to put down.”

Without further ado, he lunged forward and struck with his staff.

De Xiang’s body was enveloped in a glass-like glow, forming a protective bowl around him.

The staff hit the bowl, cracking it but not breaking through.

Their eyes met, both filled with surprise.

De Xiang muttered a mantra, and the glass glow reformed into a lotus blossom.

Lei Jun withdrew and shattered the smaller lotuses with a few swift strikes. He then smashed the giant lotus protecting De Xiang.

De Xiang staggered back, his shield shrinking.

The exposed scholar lay helpless on the ground.

Lei Jun calmly stepped forward, placing a foot on the scholar’s head.

The scholar’s eyes widened in horror, but his skull shattered, and his life ended.