Chapter 625 - 400: This Is the Most Terrifying Old Man I’ve Ever Seen in My Life! (Part 3)

Chapter 625: Chapter 400: This Is the Most Terrifying Old Man I’ve Ever Seen in My Life! (Part 3)

His whole body showed not a hint of relaxation, as if he were completely focused on sensing something.

Beside the middle-aged Daoist stood three young men, all dressed in ordinary short-sleeved uniforms, clearly his disciples.

Each of the three had their own tasks: one stood solemnly at the side of the altar holding a Peach Wood Sword, another bent over arranging the stacked talisman papers.

The last one was intently watching the direction of the incense smoke in the burner, his eyes carrying a mix of tension and reverence, always ready to hand his master whatever he needed, not daring to slacken for a moment.

"Master, why hasn’t that ghostly thing come up yet? Could it be that it’s afraid of us?"

The young disciple on the far left clutched the Peach Wood Sword tightly, his voice deliberately imbued with false confidence.

Yet, he couldn’t help but glance towards the pitch-black water in the distance, fearing that something might jump out the very next second.

Immediately, the disciple next to him chimed in, his voice hiding his uncontrollable anxiety: "Right, Master, didn’t you say last time that you couldn’t handle this ghostly thing?"

As soon as he spoke, he felt his heart grow faint - in truth, what he really wanted to ask was "Will something happen tonight," but he could only hide his panic behind old words.

The last disciple swallowed, his gaze fixed on the dancing candle flames on the altar, softening his voice: "Yes, why did Master suddenly set up an altar here tonight?"

The three of them questioned one after another, seemingly persistently curious, but in reality, they just wanted to fill the oppressive silence with their words.

The night wind blew across the concrete ground, carrying the damp and cold air of the reservoir.

If they did nothing or said nothing, they felt their legs grow weak, barely able to stand steady on their feet.

The middle-aged Daoist listened to his disciples’ words, his brows tightening further, but he didn’t turn around, just fiercely staring at the Compass: "Don’t ask too much, keep an eye on the incense. It hasn’t come because it’s waiting for the right moment."

A drop of cold sweat slid down the middle-aged Daoist’s forehead, yet he maintained his hand seal posture, eyes glued to the Compass, his lips pressed into a straight line as if pretending to be confident.

But only the middle-aged Daoist knew that his palms were already soaked in cold sweat, and even his knuckles were trembling slightly.

"Who the hell wants to fight this ghostly thing? I haven’t lived enough yet!"

This thought spun wildly in the middle-aged Daoist’s mind.

Recalling the cold aura he sensed earlier from deep within the reservoir, he even wanted to throw away the Peach Wood Sword and turn to flee.

But the middle-aged Daoist didn’t dare; all of this reluctance stemmed from the mysterious elder who suddenly came to him this morning.

In the morning, as the middle-aged Daoist had just put on his training clothes and stepped out of the mountain gate with his right foot, five or six people in black form-fitting attire suddenly surrounded him.

Their movements were swift yet their manner was courteous, showing no hint of hostility, they only bowed slightly and said: "Daoist, we would like to invite you downstairs for a chat."

The middle-aged Daoist’s heart tightened, yet he didn’t dare resist - these people’s auras were steady, definitely not ordinary passersby, he could only suppress his unease and was led to the alley outside the temple.

A black car rested silently under the shade of a tree, its window rolled down slowly, and as he looked up, he froze at the sight.

Inside the car sat an elderly man in his sixties, wearing a black Zhongshan suit, holding a half-burned cigarette between his fingers, his demeanor casual yet making the Daoist’s hairs stand on end.

Those eyes calm and unwavering, yet what the Daoist saw was not age, but an oppression as vast as mountains and seas.

It was as if, should the elder wish, he could crush the Daoist’s body with a mere gesture.

This was the most terrifying and powerful elder the Daoist had ever seen in his life, bar none!!!

At this moment, this thought raged in the Daoist’s mind, causing his breath to grow cautious.

He vowed that even the century-old vengeful spirits he’d encountered with his master had never evoked such deep-seated reverence and fear from him.

"Mr. Wu, there’s something I need your help with."

In the black car, the cigarette between Lu Xuan’s fingers glowed with a faint spark, his voice plain as if discussing a trivial matter.

"Bring out the thing in the reservoir for me."

As soon as the words fell, the middle-aged Daoist felt a formless pressure rush at him.

It wasn’t a deliberately released hostility, but the natural aura that emanated from Lu Xuan.

As deep and heavy as the ocean, as majestic as mountains, so powerful that he didn’t even dare to look up directly.

Lu Xuan had no choice but to act this way.

The aura around him, if even slightly leaked, could allow the thing in the reservoir to detect it instantly.

"After it’s done, Mr. Wu, if you have any difficulties, just say...."