Chapter 103: The Banner Moves, the Flower Thief Appears

The Lan Yin Fang branch altar was established on Little West Mountain, named the “Fayan Retreat,” adjacent to Yucheng. It housed both monks and Taoists, many dispatched from Heguan and Sibaiyun Temples, intended to oversee the allocation of resources within the region.

After all, more than a decade ago, these two major branch altars had invested numerous disciples in the battlefield of Guancai Cave, firmly confining the power of the Pankuo Mountain Range within the Liling area, thus earning the right to reasonably “draw resources” from Lan Yin Fang.

Near Little West Mountain were several ancient temples and Taoist shrines. Many wanderers aspiring to become Taoist practitioners would often come months or even a year in advance to lodge there temporarily.

Among them was a well-known temple called Tonghua, reputed locally as a place of serene cultivation and blessing.

Ji Ming arrived early and took residence in this temple, practicing diligently morning and evening, quietly awaiting the forthcoming Taoist examination.

Perhaps because the exam date was drawing near, the number of scattered cultivators in this temple increased, inevitably mixing the good with the bad, creating a chaotic environment.

Especially notorious were several infamous flower thieves and vicious men who lodged there. At midnight, the roof tiles would creak under their feet, with countless people coming and going, deliberately treading around Ji Ming’s spot.

Unable to find peace for cultivation, he focused on refining his White Bone Heart-accumulating Pearl.

Since absorbing the deathly Yin demon energy, the pearl had gradually turned white, resembling a dead man’s eye. Held in his claw, it emitted a warm sensation, increasingly precious.

After some more time absorbing the deathly Yin demon aura, it would ascend to the rank of a treasured artifact.

Such magical treasures were hard to come by, and even fewer at the Foundation Building stage could produce a single artifact.

His boldness to roam alone and take part in the “Fayan Retreat” Taoist exam was not just blind confidence; the White Bone Heart-accumulating Pearl was his trump card, alongside the concealed Yin Thunder Pill.

One evening, Ji Ming flipped through a Taoist scripture while eating a bowl of cold temple gruel with a small dish of pickled vegetables, savoring this rare enjoyment.

“Tap tap tap~”

Having only consumed half the cold gruel, footsteps sounded again on the roof, stopping above, accompanied by faint whispers.

“The little lady’s strength is impressive. Later, the three of us will take turns serving you.”

“Quickly send her inside, so we can enjoy her in turn. Once done, we have to return her.”

“We’re almost Taoist practitioners ourselves; how can we still engage in such filthy deeds?”

“...”

Seeing the endless chatter of the three on the roof, Ji Ming finally lost patience. He shook the enchanted banner of the Bewitching Maiden Miao Le in his hand. The demoness on the banner writhed seductively.

On the roof, the three men were immediately entranced by the banner, tumbling off the eaves one after another, battered and bruised, painfully waking up.

One of them, possessing some skill, flipped like a hawk mid-fall and unleashed a palm strike in midair. A ghostly wail echoed—an illusion generated by the perfected Five Ghosts Soul Severing Palm.

Ji Ming’s eyes gleamed. Holding the banner in one hand, he pushed forward with the other claw.

As the man released his palm, a claw-shaped rupture appeared on the wall before him. With a loud bang, something collided with his flying palm force.

“Not good.”

Sensing danger, he reflexively unleashed another palm. But just as he pushed forward, a thick, solid energy force crashed into his palm, instantly blowing apart half his arm without warning. Overcome by pain, he fainted.

“Second brother!”

Someone shouted, springing up and propelling forward.

Mid-leap, he grasped a large back-mounted broadsword, blood-chilling energy flowing along its blade. He exerted full strength to strike, only to find the sword uncontrollably slipping from his grasp, crashing through the wall into the room.

“Third brother, could it be your sword has become sentient?”

“No, no,” the blade-wielder said, expression dazed as he retreated, whispering, “My sword is just tainted with blood energy—it’s not even a magical weapon.”

They realized the occupant inside was no one they could provoke.

Footsteps echoed from within as they turned toward the door. A short figure emerged, holding the banner and the broadsword, steadily approaching them.

Stopping beneath a lantern hanging from the eaves, the figure revealed a harsh boyish face.

“Grandpa!”

The eldest and third brothers immediately knelt, calling out.

Ji Ming was initially stunned but then recalled the Venomous-Handed Child’s deep hatred for being treated as a mere child, forcing others to address him as “Grandpa.” Any slight displeasure meant soul refinement into the banner, drained by the demoness.

“Hehe!”

He feigned a sinister laugh, looking at the equally bruised woman, and asked, “The exam is in a few days, yet you still have time to pick flowers? Truly a good mindset!”

The eldest brother, sensing Ji Ming’s hostility, quickly changed tack.

“Grandpa, you’ve been here some time, yet Master Huma hasn’t sent any songstresses or dancers to entertain you.”

Master Huma was another villain in this region, closely acquainted with the Venomous-Handed Child. Unlike him, Huma mingled widely, maintaining ties with both Buddhist and Taoist circles, and ran his own temple.

“Oh~” Ji Ming raised his voice, feigning anger to avoid exposure. “Master Huma is here? Why hasn’t he come to reminisce with me?”

The third brother gave a thumbs-up.

“Grandpa Shilong, you’re the leader among our flower-picking circle, a master of bedroom arts. Ordinary beauties simply don’t satisfy you.

After Master Huma seized this temple, he kept a particularly exquisite wanton woman versed in bedroom secrets—he fears you’ll steal his prized treasure.”

“Exactly.”

Recalling this, the eldest angrily added, “We’ve asked several times to take turns enjoying her, but Master Huma refuses, offering only a mediocre beauty to placate the three of us. It’s truly disrespectful.”

Their complaints grew increasingly absurd, even suggesting Ji Ming intervene on their behalf.

“Ahem.”

The second brother, stirring weakly, coughed and croaked, “Big brother, third brother, quickly chop off his two arms for me.”

“Second brother, it’s better to resolve enmity than to deepen it,” the eldest replied.

“Second brother, look closely. He’s a senior in our flower-picking trade, wielding the Bewitching Maiden Miao Le banner that’s bewitched countless women,” the third said admiringly.

As they tried to dissuade the second brother, the short figure shook the banner, and the demoness on it shook her voluptuous hips before slipping off the banner, landing squarely on the second brother.

“Form is emptiness; emptiness is form. Form does not differ from emptiness, nor emptiness from form. Do you understand the Buddhist truth of form and emptiness?”

With Ji Ming’s words, the second brother broke into joyous laughter, writhing on the ground in various ecstatic postures, making the other two’s scalps tingle.

“Scram!”

Approaching the exam, Ji Ming wished to avoid escalating the matter, so he only killed one as a warning.

After deterring the scoundrels, he glanced at the claw-shaped hole he had pierced in the wall with his energy and summoned a temple novice to make a quick repair.

He had thought the night’s incident a mere triviality, but the next day, someone came specially to visit—the infamous Master Huma.

Along with the master was a young maiden, eyes like peach blossoms, endowed with alluring grace.