Exorcising Evil

Gu Mosheng, after all, had profound knowledge of traditional Chinese medicine and extensive experience. When he saw Xiaolong's condition, he suddenly recalled a rare illness—where the afflicted child would frequently scream in terror, cry uncontrollably, and suffer from relentless agitation. This condition, known as "possession sickness," was notoriously difficult to treat. Even he had no reliable cure for it.

Knowing that Huo Xuan was Hua Buyi's disciple, he saw an opportunity to humiliate him. If Huo Xuan failed to treat the illness, it would tarnish Hua Buyi's reputation—a prospect Gu Mosheng relished.

To be fair, there was no personal grudge between him and Hua Buyi. Ten years ago, a nobleman from the capital had sought his treatment, only for the patient's condition to worsen to the brink of death. At the critical moment, Hua Buyi had stepped in—not only saving the man's life but curing him completely. The contrast in their abilities had been glaring, and Gu Mosheng had nursed a bitter envy ever since, considering the incident a lifelong disgrace.

Now, a decade later, he had encountered Hua Buyi's disciple. Naturally, he wanted to undermine Huo Xuan and, by extension, diminish Hua Buyi's prestige—if only to soothe his wounded pride.

Huo Xuan was no fool. Seeing the hostility in Gu Mosheng's expression, he knew the man harbored ill intentions. Since they were already at odds, he decided to crush Gu Mosheng's arrogance outright and elevate his master's name.

With this in mind, he raised an eyebrow and declared, "Gu Mosheng, what you can't cure, I can. I accept this challenge. But mark my words—if I heal Xiaolong, you will bow before my master like a disciple and address him as 'Grandmaster' from this day forward."

Gu Mosheng's face darkened with fury. He, too, came from a distinguished medical lineage and was considered Hua Buyi's peer. Yet this upstart demanded he prostrate himself as a junior?

"What's wrong? Afraid?" Huo Xuan taunted coldly.

Gu Mosheng calculated silently. No matter how talented this brat was, curing "possession sickness" was impossible—even Hua Buyi might struggle. His confidence surged, and he growled, "Fine! If you truly succeed, I'll concede defeat. But if you fail, Hua Buyi must bow to me as his master. Do you dare take that wager?"

Huo Xuan smirked inwardly. Even if he couldn't fully cure Xiaolong, he could at least suppress the symptoms. Gu Mosheng's humiliation was inevitable.

After a brief pause, he announced loudly, "Deal! Let Mr. Shang serve as our witness."

The crowd behind Gu Mosheng fell silent. They weren't fools—even if they hadn't heard of Hua Buyi before, they now understood his significance. Otherwise, Gu Mosheng would never have engaged in such a high-stakes bet with his disciple.

Shang Yang was more than happy to oblige. He had no fondness for Gu Mosheng either, and both personally and professionally, he hoped for Huo Xuan's victory. So he ordered a camera to be brought in, recording the entire wager as concrete evidence.

Once the formalities were settled, Huo Xuan approached Xiaolong and stared intently at his back. Through his X-ray vision, he confirmed that the white-robed "female ghost" had reappeared, tormenting the child just as before.

Without a word, Huo Xuan locked eyes with the specter. He had warned her last time—this time, he held nothing back. Within seconds, a golden ray of light shot toward the ghost. But unlike before, the light transformed mid-flight into a wrathful Buddha.

This Buddha bore a furious expression, with two faces and four arms, wielding a sword, a noose, a blade, and a staff. Its face was tinged with a blue-green hue, and with a thunderous lion's roar, it charged at the female ghost. The apparition's face twisted in terror as her form gradually dissipated, dissolving into a shower of scattered light.

Within those shimmering fragments, Huo Xuan glimpsed fleeting images—blurry, yet their meaning resonated clearly in his mind. He suddenly understood: A woman in the Shang family, unable to conceive by the age of forty, had grown bitterly jealous of Shang Yang's wife for bearing this child. Soon after, the woman succumbed to depression and passed away, leaving behind a residue of resentment that manifested as the ghost tormenting Xiaolong.

As the light faded, the ghost vanished completely. Xiaolong immediately stopped crying, blinking blankly at the room full of people.

Huo Xuan was stunned. He hadn't expected his clairvoyance to be so potent—not only had he exorcised the ghost in an instant, but he'd also unraveled the grudge's origins. It reminded him of a theory held by some religious scholars: that human emotions and thoughts could shape reality itself.

That ghost had been born from the woman's lingering hatred—formless, invisible to the naked eye, yet potent enough to inflict prolonged suffering on Xiaolong.

Once the boy had calmed, Huo Xuan solemnly patted his head a few times for show and announced, "It's done. The malignant energy plaguing Xiaolong has been purged."

The onlookers were dumbfounded. To them, Huo Xuan had merely glared at Xiaolong with a fierce expression, then touched his head. Could that really count as treatment?

Yet regardless of their skepticism, Xiaolong had indeed stopped crying, leaving everyone utterly baffled.

Even Gu Mosheng was shocked. As a renowned physician with genuine skill, he knew illnesses he couldn't cure shouldn't be resolved so effortlessly by another. He couldn't make sense of it—and neither could his entourage, who exchanged bewildered glances.

The happiest, of course, were Shang Yang and his wife. They immediately scooped Xiaolong into their arms, inspecting him closely. The child's complexion had improved, his eyes bright and alert—as if he had truly been healed.

Shang Yang still couldn't quite believe it. He shot Huo Xuan a questioning glance, to which the latter responded with a smile, "Don't worry, the root cause has been eliminated. Spend more time with him at home, and he'll fully recover in a day or two."

Overjoyed, Shang Yang said earnestly, "Brother Huo, I won't waste words on gratitude."

Gu Mosheng, however, was left humiliated, his face ashen with suppressed fury. Huo Xuan had no intention of letting him off the hook. Coldly, he declared, "Gu Mosheng, remember your promise. If you dare renege, I'll duplicate that recording ten thousand times and distribute it nationwide. The best way to deal with shameless people is to slap them hard across the face."

With a heavy snort, Gu Mosheng turned and stormed out, too embarrassed to stay. His entourage trailed behind him like a procession of defeated mourners, their expressions utterly crestfallen.

Once they were gone, Shang Yang burst into laughter and gave Huo Xuan a thumbs-up. "Little Brother, I'm in awe of you!"

Huo Xuan waved him off, his expression far from celebratory. "I acted too impulsively today. There was no need to provoke a local heavyweight like Gu Mosheng."

Shang Yang's face turned serious. "Don't worry, Brother. If Gu Mosheng dares cause trouble for you, I have ways to deal with him."

Huo Xuan chuckled. "Ah, I forgot—you're a man of considerable influence and deep pockets yourself."

After exchanging a few more words, Huo Xuan turned to a pressing matter. "Tell me, was there a woman in your family—around forty, childless, who passed away from depression? And did she often wear white?"

At this, Madam Shang's face instantly paled. Trembling, she whispered, "H-How did you know? That was my sister-in-law… She died over half a year ago." Then her expression shifted again. "Xiaolong's illness started around the same time… Could it be…?"

Both she and Shang Yang felt a chill crawl down their spines, their faces tightening with unease.

Huo Xuan smiled reassuringly. "Don't be afraid. The 'unclean thing' has already been dealt with. I was just curious."

The couple then recounted the story: Shang Yang's half-brother and his wife had remained childless for years. Watching her sisters-in-law bear children one after another, the sister-in-law grew increasingly despondent until her death at forty-one.

After hearing this, Huo Xuan sighed inwardly. "Once you're home, put this out of your minds. It's over."

They nodded repeatedly, but their gazes now held a trace of awe. Huo Xuan, whom they barely knew, had uncovered the truth with uncanny precision—how was this any different from the abilities of a divine seer?

For the rest of the afternoon, Xiaolong was lively, running around and jumping with energy—completely free from his previous sickly demeanor—putting everyone at ease.

Early the next morning, Huo Xuan decided to return home and bid farewell to the Shang couple. Despite Shang Yang's repeated attempts to persuade him to stay, Huo Xuan insisted on leaving. Shang Yang finally relented and said, "Brother, when you return to Jiangzhou, you must let me know. I'll throw you a welcome-back party."

Huo Xuan didn't take a taxi back—Shang Yang had insisted on sending him home in that extended Rolls-Royce. Not only that, but the car was also packed with all kinds of gifts, supposedly for Huo Xuan's parents, making it impossible for him to refuse.

The drive from Dongling City to Nangang County took three to four hours. Departing at 8 a.m., they arrived home by noon. Huo Xuan had called his parents during the trip, so by the time the car pulled into the neighborhood, Lu Hongmei and her husband, along with a large group of relatives, were already waiting.

Huo Xuan was stunned. His uncles, aunts, cousins, and even his 70-year-old grandfather stood in the crowd, smiling warmly at him.

Everyone watched in amazement as Huo Xuan stepped out of a luxury car they'd never seen before. Huo Xuan hurried over, greeting each elder respectfully before asking in confusion, "Mom, why is everyone here? Did something happen at home?"

Lu Hongmei, dressed in typical small-town fashion with years of hardship etched on her face, laughed. "Nonsense! What could've happened? Your Third Uncle and his wife came over yesterday and said you'd won the lottery. Everyone was so happy, they invited all the relatives over to celebrate."

Huo Xuan nearly facepalmed. Since when did I win the lottery? But he didn't dare say that out loud. Instead, he nodded along. "Y-Yes, we should celebrate!"

Third Uncle winked at him. "Xiao Xuan, I've already reserved tables at Baiwei Restaurant. We'll head over soon for a proper celebration."

Huo Xuan forced a smile. At this point, all he could do was nod—with so many elders around, he had no say in the matter.

Since the rare family gathering had already happened, and Huo Xuan enjoyed lively occasions, he distributed some of Shang Yang's gifts to his relatives—everyone got something, even the least-liked Third Aunt, who received a high-end skincare set.

In the afternoon, the entire family crowded into Baiwei Restaurant, filling three large tables as they ate, drank, and chatted merrily. Kids and toddlers ran around noisily, turning the place into a cheerful chaos.

During the banquet, Huo Xuan had no choice but to once again produce his fake lottery ticket. Ever the gracious host, he slipped away to the restroom and prepared dozens of red envelopes, each stuffed with 6,000 yuan, ensuring every relative—men and women, young and old—received one.