Really? I Don't Buy That
"Today, I won't kill you," Mo Chen stated unexpectedly, sensing that without this explicit declaration, releasing her would unleash another relentless chainsaw assault aimed solely at his demise.
Yun Jianyue paused for a second, then chirped brightly, "Really? I don't buy that."
Mo Chen remained silent, his profound gaze shifting pointedly to the groaning chainsaw clutched in her hand. A sliver of his divine power unfurled, invisible but potent. The chainsaw sputtered, sparks flew from its motor, and then it died with a pathetic whimper.
He casually tossed the defunct weapon aside and released Yun Jianyue. "Believe what you wish."
Seeing her beloved chainsaw so casually annihilated, Yun Jianyue's heart clenched in genuine distress. She glared venomously at Mo Chen. "Pay me back!"
Zhou Benxin discreetly pulled out his phone, seriously contemplating dialing emergency services. Was his senior somehow involved in criminal activities? She tried to chop someone with a chainsaw, the victim disabled it in self-defense, and she demanded compensation?
Highway robbers seemed tame in comparison.
Beside them, Fang Lin'an felt every hair on his body stand rigid. The power he'd just sensed rippling off the man was unmistakable – primordial divine energy. Pure, undiluted god's power!
He'd seen nascent deities before, shadows of power drifting on the fringes during his travels with his mentor. Compared to malicious spirits, they were stronger, perhaps, but still transient manifestations. Nothing like this.
But the entity before him… a mere wisp of its suppressed energy was enough to make his knees buckle, igniting a primal urge to prostrate himself in abject surrender. This was an ancient god. One that had endured millennia.
Fingers trembling slightly, Fang Lin'an fished his phone from his pocket and sent a panicked text to his esteemed junior uncle, Si Wuming: JUNIOR UNCLE! CHONGGUANG MOUNTAIN TEMPLE! GOD! PURE GOD POWER! RESCUE! URGENT!
Mo Chen's obsidian eyes remained fixed on the pale palm of Yun Jianyue's hand, seemingly contemplating the most artistically satisfying way to snap it.
"Stinky treasure, forget it, forget it," Lu Changxue urged frantically from the pendant, her spectral form shivering at the lingering divine echo. "Us little fairies shouldn't stoop to his level."
Yun Jianyue withdrew her accusing hand with a profound sigh. "By the way, husband," she inquired, her voice laced with faux sweetness, "we haven't been properly introduced. I don't even know your name. Or do you perhaps prefer me calling you 'husband'?"
"Mo Chen." The god stated his name instantly, the word 'husband' apparently possessing some debilitating magical property he was desperate to avoid.
Satisfied Mo Chen wasn't launching an immediate attack, Yun Jianyue dismissed him entirely. She turned, ushering Fang Lin'an and a bewildered Zhou Benxin past the two bowing young acolytes and into the dimly lit temple grounds. Mo Chen watched them go, his expression unreadable.
Inside, the temple was quiet, the bustle of daytime pilgrims long departed down the mountain. Only two young acolytes, barely taller than the sweeping brooms they wielded, diligently swept the flagstones near the entrance.
"Esteemed patrons," one acolyte, around eleven or twelve, intoned with practiced seriousness, bowing deeply, "the temple gates will close shortly. Please descend swiftly. The mountain paths become unsafe after nightfall."
Fang Lin'an stepped forward, offering a respectful gesture. "Disciple Fang Lin'an, eleventh student under Master Lu of the Lingxi Sect. I seek urgent counsel. May I trouble you to inform Elder Master Chu of our arrival?"
Cultivation circles intertwined, alliances and courtesies understood. The young acolyte recognized the sect name. He returned the respectful gesture promptly and scurried off to find the senior master.
Elder Master Chu, a pillar of the Chongguang temple community despite his vigorous fifty-something appearance that belied his years, greeted them warmly. "So, you're Old Lu's disciple! Junior Disciple Fang, please, come in, come in! Whatever brings you can be discussed inside."
Once seated in a modest reception room, Fang Lin'an quickly laid out their predicament. Elder Master Chu's sharp gaze settled on Zhou Benxin.
With a quick pinch at invisible meridians, his eyes narrowed in concentration. What he saw made his frown deepen: Zhou Benxin was shrouded in an inky, clinging darkness, a dark aura clinging to his forehead – the unmistakable mark of impending death.
"Yes, we safeguard several hundred proxy effigies within these walls," Chu confirmed, stroking his short beard. "But the most recent was enshrined over thirteen years past. The chamber is seldom visited, deep within the temple's quieter wing. Follow me, young friends."
The group trailed Elder Master Chu into the heart of the ancient temple complex, navigating through increasingly dim and silent corridors. Yun Jianyue glanced back. Mo Chen was there, drifting along several paces behind them, as insubstantial and ignored as smoke.
"What are you doing?" Yun Jianyue demanded bluntly.
The others halted, looking around in confusion. Zhou Benxin frowned. "Senior? Who are you talking to? That guy… he stayed outside the gate, didn't he? Did... did you encounter a ghost?"
Only then did Yun Jianyue realize Mo Chen had rendered himself invisible to all but her. In a place saturated with divine energy like this? The audacity!
"Truly, the skilled tread without fear," she muttered, throwing another glance his way. Catching her words, a faint, arrogant smirk touched Mo Chen's lips.
After another ten minutes of walking, they arrived at a heavy wooden door thick with undisturbed dust. Elder Master Chu grasped the iron ring handle and pulled. A thick cloud of ancient dust billowed outwards, engulfing the group. Coughs erupted as they waved hands futilely before their faces, eyes stinging.
When the dust settled enough to breathe, they stepped inside. The smell of decayed wood saturated the cool, musty air. Row upon row of roughly carved wooden effigies filled the chamber, each child-sized. In the flickering light cast by Elder Master Chu's oil lamp, they cast long, eerie shadows. For a heart-stopping moment, they appeared like an assembly of silent, dark children.
Zhou Benxin shuddered, goosebumps prickling his arms despite his jacket. He leaned towards Yun Jianyue, voice dropping to a whisper. "Why does it feel freezing in here?" The room was easily ten degrees colder than the mild October evening outside.
"The effigies of each young protector," Elder Master Chu explained gravely, gesturing to the countless figures, "are inscribed with their designated charge's name and birth characters upon the base, near where they stand against the wall. This allows us to locate them when needed. Young Disciple Fang, we must search for the one belonging to your friend."
They spread out, peering at the effigy bases through the gloom. Lu Changxue wisely remained hidden within her pendant, not wanting to startle the venerable Taoist.
After several minutes of tense searching, Fang Lin'an's voice echoed sharply from a corner near the back. "Over here! Quickly!"
They converged around him. Before Fang Lin'an was a seemingly orderly row of effigies, except for one glaring gap. And on the wall behind that empty space, etched clearly in faded ink despite the dust, were two names and corresponding birth charts: Zhou Benxin and his sister, Zhou Ruyan.
Zhou Benxin's proxy effigy was gone!
"Disaster," Elder Master Chu breathed, his face grim. He immediately began ushering them back towards the door. "Out. Out, now. Tonight, you will lodge within the temple. I will muster our disciples and scour the grounds for your missing effigy." He turned urgently to Zhou Benxin, his eyes filled with warning. "Young Zhou, heed this: tonight, do not be alone. Stay with your friends. At all costs."
Zhou Benxin felt his legs turn to water. Even his voice seemed weak emanating from his sturdy frame. "And… if you don't find it?"
Fang Lin'an met his terrified gaze, his expression grimly solemn. "If we don't find it? Get yourself measured for a coffin, Zhou Benxin. At least they can bury your intact corpse."