Chapter Fifty-Seven: Daughter of Reincarnation? Gale and Quaking Earth!

Anger had stripped him of all reason.

Lin Yi’s gaze was anything but ordinary. Especially in his shock, as the Great Void Sutra within him stirred ever so slightly, a faint aura emanated from him, drawing upon the energy of heaven and earth, enveloping the area in a presence that made Song Yuyan deeply uncomfortable.

The Star Sect robe Song Yuyan wore seemed oversized, and she must have had other clothes on underneath. After all, she was a young girl, and even though the heat was oppressive and her cultivation granted her some resistance to the elements, vanity is a universal trait. What age was this, after all? In the modern world, the emphasis was on showing off one’s beauty.

Thus, Song Yuyan wore a pair of short shorts and a strappy tank top beneath her robe. She even donned white stockings, so that, should the wind blow her robe aside, her pale legs would not be exposed.

It was all rather harmless; even if her robe slipped off, it would not have mattered. But Lin Yi’s glance just now, tinged with that faint aura, made his gaze far more oppressive. Feeling this, Song Yuyan hastily wrapped her robe tightly around herself.

Yet she also noticed that Lin Yi’s gaze, though full of pressure and fixed upon her, actually contained more surprise, confusion, and puzzlement than lasciviousness.

Sensing the surging energy from her senior brother Zhang Qiang, Song Yuyan quickly interjected, “Senior brother, don’t do it, don’t start a fight…”

Zheng Guoqiang was also startled.

Others might not know Lin Yi, but Zheng Guoqiang did. While he didn’t know exactly who Lin Yi was, he knew Lin Yi was the very one Murong Xingyao had called him about, asking Zheng to look after him.

Murong Xingyao—now that was a name. A member of the illustrious Murong family! Zheng Guoqiang, for all his wealth and influence, was nothing compared to the Murongs. Murong Xingyao had specifically said Lin Yi was his brother and had begged Zheng to take care of him.

Wiping the sweat from his bald head, Zheng Guoqiang hurried over and placed himself beside Zhang Qiang, blocking his way.

“Master Zhang, let it go, let it go. He really is a resident here, and he didn’t mean anything by it. Lin Yi, my friend, quickly explain yourself—this is Master Zhang you’re dealing with.” As he spoke, Zheng Guoqiang kept winking at Lin Yi.

He was genuinely frightened; if these two started fighting, whose side was he supposed to take?

Lin Yi, observing Zheng Guoqiang’s anxious expression, found himself surprised by how decent and kind-hearted the bald boss seemed. But how did Zheng Guoqiang know his name? Well, never mind that for now.

Lin Yi didn’t want to argue with Zhang Qiang either, but since Zhang Qiang had started it, Lin Yi had nothing but scorn for him.

Before Lin Yi could say a word, there were hurried footsteps—three men rushed over.

“Master Zhang, this kid’s just being difficult. We told him to leave the Talented Scholar’s Villa before, what with the haunting and all, but he just wouldn’t go. He’s thickheaded, Master Zhang, don’t stoop to his level.”

These three were the middle-aged men from Villa No. 16, keeping vigil for their boss Yang Wanshun. The other two, faces pale, hastily apologized to Zhang Qiang.

“Yes, spare him, Master Zhang. He doesn’t know any better. You, boy—come with us, now.”

“Master Zhang, this kid’s got a screw loose. Don’t take it to heart. You’re a grand master, lofty and above—it’s beneath you to argue with him.”

The two middle-aged men kept bowing and apologizing as they spoke.

“Hmph!”

With a snort of anger, Zhang Qiang’s face contorted with fury. He gritted his teeth, glanced at Zheng Guoqiang and the three men, and then, with a loud swish, flung his sleeves and withdrew his aura.

“You’d better watch yourself. If it happens again, if you dare look at my junior sister like that, I’ll gouge out your eyes. Now get yourself to the back and stay out of the way, you ignorant mortal. You can never comprehend what a fool you are to provoke someone powerful!”

Just now, the aura surging from Zhang Qiang made Lin Yi realize this was merely a third-rate C-class martial artist, not even as good as Xu Lianyou. He looked older than Xu Lianyou, yet this was the extent of his strength—what was there to boast about?

Calling me a mere mortal—if you knew how strong I truly am, you’d probably kneel down and beg to be my disciple!

Still, seeing Zheng Guoqiang frantically signaling him, and the three middle-aged men trying to pull him away, Lin Yi decided not to disappoint their good intentions.

Let Zhang Qiang strut for a while longer. Lin Yi was curious to see whether tonight’s apparition would be a Painted-Skin Ghost, a Drought Demon, or some other terrifying specter. As soon as it appeared, a single punch would settle everything.

Clattering sounds echoed as Lin Yi left, but Zhang Qiang still felt uneasy. Annoyed, he slammed his copper coin sword down on the ritual table. Glancing back at Lin Yi in the crowd, only then did Master Zhang feel somewhat appeased.

No matter what, he’d been led away by others, and everyone still treated him with deference—even the boss of Talented Scholar’s Villa, Zheng Guoqiang.

“Ahem.” Zhang Qiang felt the time was ripe to show off.

Returning to the spot sullied by Lin Yi’s tread, he tidied up the place and then moved back to the ritual table.

“These days, with the world in upheaval and red mists everywhere, ordinary people are like lambs to the slaughter. When confronted by monsters and ghosts, you must call in professionals—or the government, though their resources are stretched thin. That’s why members of sects like ours are needed. Once again, the Star Sect is in dire need of people—anyone aged five to twenty is eligible!”

“But those with poor character need not apply; there’s no point in them coming.” Zhang Qiang added pointedly, clearly aiming that last remark at Lin Yi.

He glanced at Lin Yi, only to find that Lin Yi was unfazed, as if the words had nothing to do with him.

Zhang Qiang was speechless. What a stubborn fellow.

So far, apart from official government institutions and the major Taoist, Buddhist, and Confucian sects, no other organizations had dared openly recruit people. The Star Sect dared because they had the backing. Their top members had connections to the state!

Besides, fighting monsters and ghosts was the righteous path of humanity. Without new recruits, how could they win the coming battles? Those with power and connections had already started making moves. Becoming a Star Sect disciple was so prestigious—everyone else would jump at the chance!

Except, inexplicably, this fellow remained unmoved.

Zhang Qiang was at a loss. Definitely a blockhead.

He proceeded to take out a small device—the potential tester.

Just then, a wind stirred around them.

It was a summer evening; a breeze could bring relief from the heat, but if it was too strong, something was amiss. Especially when it felt so cold, as if ice blades were slicing through the air.

Some people shivered involuntarily.

Suddenly, something strange happened.

On the lake, a fierce wind seemed to roar. Everyone—Zhang Qiang, Song Yuyan, Zheng Guoqiang, and the middle-aged men speaking with Lin Yi—all turned toward the sound.

Lin Yi narrowed his eyes at the artificial lake.

Though it was only the size of a football field, the water was exceptionally clear.

Now, though, it seemed to have darkened.

The lake rippled and surged, and the waves grew so large it seemed as if the whole world was being swept up in their force. Wave after wave crashed, making one feel as though they were standing at the seashore.

In an instant, the lotus flowers planted in the lake were pulverized by the sheer force, their leaves scattering in the wind.

The gale howled, the changes on the lake sending chills down everyone’s spine.

From afar, an even more disturbing sound arose—like the thunder of thousands of horses galloping, shaking the very ground.

“Watch yourself from now on,” the middle-aged man who had dragged Lin Yi aside whispered to him. “Most of these people are relatives of the deceased—they’re counting on Master Zhang to vanquish these monsters and avenge their loved ones. Don’t provoke the crowd; keep your head down. Sometimes people are scarier than ghosts. If they turn on you, you’re done for.”

Lin Yi nodded, only now noticing the hostile stares fixed on him from all sides.

“That guy’s got a rotten character—he destroyed Master Zhang’s protective dog’s blood formation and was ogling his junior sister!”

“Hmph… He’s disgraced our whole villa complex!”

The wind grew stronger, the footsteps heavier, the ground beginning to tremble as if a dragon were turning beneath the earth.

Had it not been for the strange occurrences, surely more people would have been denouncing Lin Yi.

Lin Yi took it all in stride.

He understood that those who suffer often have their own failings. These people, grieving and with no outlet for their rage, had found in Lin Yi a convenient scapegoat.

He kept silent, but that didn’t mean he bore no grudge.

Seeing their righteous indignation, he almost wanted to go over and kick the lot of them into the sky.

But the shaking ground soon drew everyone’s attention; eyes widened in alarm.

Lin Yi frowned.

He had no time to deal with these fools. Quietly, he pulled out his energy detector.

The God-Slaying Sutra within him had shown not the slightest reaction so far, which shouldn’t have been the case. With such commotion, it couldn’t possibly be the Painted-Skin Ghost at work—it wouldn't expend so much malevolent energy just to cause an earthquake, would it?

He looked into the distance as the ground shook harder. Everyone else was staggering, but Lin Yi stood as steady as a mountain.

This scene left the three middle-aged men beside him dumbfounded.

Could this young man be a hidden master as well? While everyone else was swaying and struggling to keep their balance, he stood there, unmoved!

For a moment, the three of them were utterly stunned.