Outside the Tang family mansion:

"And who might you be? This is no place for someone like you! Move along!"

Huang Quan attempted to enter the estate but was promptly stopped by a security guard.

"I heard your young master is being haunted. I've come to exorcise the ghost," Huang Quan explained calmly, a polite smile on his face.

The guard looked Huang Quan up and down, unimpressed. Despite his refined features, the cheap tracksuit he wore—worth no more than a few hundred yuan—made him seem utterly unconvincing.

If this young man were truly a Taoist priest, where was his robe? And if he were some kind of revered master, his attire certainly didn’t reflect it. Judging by his youth and appearance, he was likely just another fraud looking to scam the family.

"Get lost! Our young master doesn’t need your help. If you don’t leave, you’ll get a taste of my fist!"

Huang Quan smiled again. Whether or not Tang Ming was saved, the family would be far more anxious about it than he was. If they weren’t willing to let him help, there was no point in pushing the matter.

He wisely turned to leave.

"Wait!"

A voice, soft yet urgent, called after him.

A beautiful figure stepped in front of Huang Quan.

"Sir, if you can help my brother, please come with me. He’s in a very bad state."

The speaker was Tang Ming’s sister, Tang Jiao. She had been watching her brother languish for days, her heart aching with every moment. At this point, she was willing to try anything, and there was something about this young man—his clear, gentle features—that made her want to trust him.

Just as Huang Quan was about to follow Tang Jiao into the estate, a figure blocked their path.

"Young miss, it’s best not to invite someone of uncertain origins into the house."

The man bowed slightly, appearing respectful to Tang Jiao, yet there was a note of firmness in his tone.

"Ah, Steward, you’re back. Is this the Taoist priest you found, the one said to be the best in Maoshan?"

The guard, who had previously been acting so arrogantly, suddenly transformed into a humble, deferential figure.

The steward straightened up, pride evident in his posture. "Indeed, young miss. This is the renowned Maoshan Taoist, here specifically to exorcise the ghost from the young master."

He glanced at Tang Jiao, as if expecting praise.

Huang Quan looked up to see a man in a Taoist robe, holding a horsetail whisk, sporting a pair of bushy eyebrows—every bit the image of a Maoshan priest.

The robe looked authentic enough, but upon closer inspection, it was clear that this "priest" was more show than substance.

Huang Quan’s interest was piqued; he decided to stay and watch the charlatan at work.

Tang Jiao looked from the priest to the steward and asked, "What makes him so exceptional? He seems rather ordinary to me. Was it really necessary for you to go all the way to Maoshan to bring him here?"

The steward, eager to justify himself, began to talk rapidly. "This Taoist is truly remarkable! When I arrived at Maoshan, I encountered him at the foot of the mountain. I hadn’t even stated my purpose, and he had already guessed it almost perfectly."

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"How could I let such a master slip away?"

"Ha!"

Huang Quan couldn’t help but laugh. Anyone could have guessed the reason a wealthy family might urgently visit a Taoist mountain. Yet this was being treated as a sign of greatness?

It was only then that the steward noticed Huang Quan’s presence and scrutinized him more closely.

"Are you the new security guard?"

The guard, now also noticing Huang Quan again, shook his head. "No, Steward, he’s not one of us. Just another con artist claiming he can exorcise ghosts. But look at him—how could he compare to the master you’ve brought?"

The steward didn’t even bother to look at Huang Quan directly, raising an eyebrow in disdain. "Where did this child come from? Run along and play. You’re too young to be pretending to be a ghost hunter."

"If you saw a ghost, you’d probably wet your pants. Now get lost!"

Before Huang Quan could respond, Tang Jiao, having heard enough, wasn’t pleased at all.

"Steward, why is it that the Taoist priest you invited is so highly regarded, while the one I brought is met with such disdain?"

The steward, not daring to be disrespectful, forced a smile as he replied, "Young Miss, you're still too young. These charlatans can easily deceive you. Look at him—does he seem like someone capable of exorcising a ghost?"

"What if he goes in and gets himself devoured by the spirit? We couldn't possibly bear that responsibility."

As he spoke, the steward gently pulled Tang Jiao closer to the entrance.

Huang Quan wanted to say something, but the guard stepped in front of him, growing impatient. "Didn't you hear? Move along, move along!"

With a sigh, Huang Quan could only shout after the retreating backs of the steward and the Maoshan Taoist, "Priest, remember, you must not be forceful in exorcising the spirit, or the consequences will be dire."

The trio had already entered the mansion, dismissing Huang Quan's warning without a second thought.

Inside Tang Ming’s room, both his hands and feet were tightly bound to the bed, deep marks revealing the prolonged restraint.

Tang Ming’s father, his face lined with exhaustion, brightened with a glimmer of hope at the sight of the Taoist. Rising to his feet, he bowed deeply and said, "Master, it’s been five days since Ming’er returned from the party and fell into this state. Please, Master, save him. Our family would be eternally grateful."

The Taoist glanced at Tang Ming and, with an air of nonchalance, replied, "Rest assured, this is a minor issue. I've encountered such cases many times. With a simple ritual, I will drive the spirit away."

Approaching Tang Ming’s bedside, the Taoist noticed the young man’s pallid complexion, his eyes sunken and surrounded by dark rings—signs of a malevolent spirit’s strong presence.

With a flourish, the Taoist shook his horsetail whisk, drew a talisman from his sleeve, and affixed it to Tang Ming's forehead, chanting, "By the decree of heaven, I command the demon possessing Tang Gongzi to depart! Begone!"

The talisman fluttered slightly, and Tang Ming’s eyes snapped open, his gaze falling on his father with a look of deep sorrow.

Tang Ming's father rushed forward, clasping his son’s hand, his emotions a mix of joy and despair. "Is he awake? Has the ghost been expelled?"

But before the words had fully left his mouth, Tang Ming began to froth at the mouth, the foul stench of decay filling the room. Moments later, his body convulsed violently before falling back into unconsciousness, black blood seeping from his nose.

Panic-stricken, Tang Ming's father grabbed the Taoist, his voice trembling. "What’s happening to my son—"

Before he could finish, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed.

The Taoist sighed deeply. "Well then, this spirit is indeed stubborn. If you refuse to leave, don’t blame me for being unkind."

Muttering under his breath, the Taoist drew a peachwood sword from his back, lit another talisman affixed to the blade, and began waving it over Tang Ming's body, chanting incessantly. Finally, he thrust the sword towards Tang Ming’s chest.

Suddenly, Tang Ming’s eyes flew open again, his pupils a chilling shade of green, with dark blood oozing from the corners of his eyes and nose.

Tang Ming fixed the Taoist with an unblinking stare, as if trying to draw the man’s very soul into himself.

The Taoist shuddered, his hand trembling as he held the peachwood sword. He could feel his life force being drained away, bit by bit. Was this spirit trying to absorb his essence?

Realizing the danger too late, the Taoist found himself powerless to retreat as Tang Ming grasped the peachwood sword and yanked it, pulling the Taoist off balance and sending him crashing towards his chest.

Tang Ming seized the Taoist’s hat, ripping it from his head, and reached out to grasp the Taoist’s scalp. The Taoist’s essence was swiftly absorbed into Tang Ming's hand, leaving the Taoist struggling weakly, unable to escape the deadly grip.

As the Taoist’s legs flailed helplessly, the steward rushed forward, trying to pull him free, but it was as if the Taoist was bound by an immense force—no amount of effort could break him loose.

The chaotic scene left Tang Jiao momentarily paralyzed with fear. Then, a flash of inspiration struck her—hadn’t that young man at the gate warned against using force to drive out the ghost? Perhaps he knew what to do.

Wasting no time, Tang Jiao dashed out of the room, grabbing the guard by the arm. "Where is that young man?"

The guard, bewildered, asked, "What young man?"

Unable to explain in detail, Tang Jiao pushed the guard aside and began searching frantically. But as she scanned the surroundings, Huang Quan was nowhere to be seen.

She turned around and noticed a shadowy figure moving among the dappled trees.