Wei Yuan searched for a suitable wooden box in the museum for a long time and finally found one. He took out a pair of black iron scissors and wrapped them in red cloth before carefully placing them in the wooden box. He then pasted a talisman from Zhou Yi on the box and sealed it shut. Finally, he dripped a drop of blood on a yellow talisman to forcefully suppress the evil energy of the scissors.

The iron scissors were a Yin object used by Bone Women to harm people. Countless people had been cut open by this scissors from ancient times to the present day. The evil energy on it was extremely strong, and it was a real thing that could actively harm people.

Wei Yuan didn't know how to destroy it for the time being, and he didn't trust Zhou Yi and the young man enough to hand it over to them. After thinking about it, he decided to bring it back and suppress it with his own blood and the fact that the Bone Woman died because of it.

He then pasted talismans on the doors, windows, and walls of the room and placed the lying tiger waist badge on a white paper. With a low hum, the scroll of Shan Jun appeared again on the white paper.

However, this time something strange happened. The lamp-bearing maid on the left side of the scroll suddenly appeared with a color and texture like white paper burned by flames, shining with a faint gold color before suddenly dimming and losing its original color, making it look like a piece of the vivid and realistic Shan Jun picture suddenly had a blank spot, which was extremely discordant.

Under the dimmed maid, a line of script appeared. "Tian Shi Nv, painted skin as a monster, has been killed." A blood-red stroke crossed the line of script, indicating the fate of the monster.

Compared with the previous painted skin slave and the little ghost that had peeped at Wei Yuan, this painted skin was much stronger, but Wei Yuan did not get any merit. He looked at the scroll and guessed that since it was Shan Jun's maid, she probably had to kill several big monsters on the scroll before settling the score.

He was also sure that the reward would be very generous.

"...Shan Jun, subordinate, right maid." Wei Yuan's fingers brushed over the scroll one by one. He was curious about the record of the right maid being killed, but her portrait still existed on the scroll.

With a flash of doubt, Wei Yuan drew his sword and slashed the scroll, and the spirituality on it slowly dissipated. He waited until the breath on it had dissipated and it wouldn't attract ghosts before removing the talisman on the door and walking out.

It was time to cook. Hunting painted skins was already very exhausting, and fighting was even more tiring despite the short time. He was starving.

As he cut the pork into pieces and blanched it, he looked at the ghosts crowded around the computer on the sofa. Among them, the red embroidered shoes danced lightly on the keyboard, and then a video popped up. Wei Yuan took a quick glance and recognized the familiar surname Zhang's mukbang. This time, his number of online fans and followers had changed drastically compared to before.

The table was still full of various meat dishes, and he ate without saying a word.Crushing the Achilles tendon with teeth, grinding vegetables with teeth, grinding bones into debris, picking up a bowl as big as a basin, mixing the food inside with soup and drinking it, then putting the bowl down with force, grabbing the greasy pig's trotters and continuing to gnaw.

An emotion that doesn't need language is conveyed through the computer screen.

Fragrant, so fragrant!

Hungry, so hungry!

The Water Ghost in front of the computer swallows nonexistent saliva.

Strange...

Wei Yuan stopped his hand movements and looked at the man on the screen.

The body of the mukbang host is still thin, with the appearance of the previous gentle man, but the belly is extremely swollen, the shirt is bulging, the limbs are thin, and the abdomen is swollen. Although it looks very full, it is still unsatisfied and keeps eating.

So hungry, so hungry.

So hungry!!!

................

"That's how it is..."

Zhou Yi and the young man from Longhu Mountain, Song Xinghuai, stood respectfully in front of the screen and recounted what had happened today. In ancient times, this could only be done by Dao travelers with the Thousand-Mile Sound Transmission or the Moonlight Shadow technique, but with modern technology, it is now a simple task.

On the screen in front of them was an old man and a middle-aged Taoist with a sword on his back.

When you're just trying to make great content at bit.ly/3iBfjkV.

The Taoist frowned and asked, "What do you think?"

"Xinghuai, you speak."

Song Xinghuai hesitated for a moment when he heard his master call his name, then replied, "The disciple naturally does not believe what the demon said, but the fear in that sentence still exists after a thousand years. After that, Master Wei Yuan used the Xuan Yuan Sword Technique that our Tian Shi Fu has lost for a long time. The disciple saw that the moves and the illustrations in the manual were almost identical, and when using the sword, there was also the spirit of the dragon and tiger. Therefore..."

The Taoist frowned and rebuked, "Nonsense!"

"This...Master?"

"How can there be a person over a thousand years old in the world? Even the ancient Pengzu did not live that long."

"As for him dipping his blood into symbols, it can only be said that he has been immersed in the Dao of symbols for a long time. As for the Xuan Yuan Sword Technique, hmph, our Tian Shi Fu still has the manual. Which disciple in the sect cannot use one or two of its moves? How do you know that he is using the cultivation method of the Xuan Yuan Sword Technique, rather than just having a deep understanding of the Dao and using a sword with power?"

"The dragon and tiger spirit, our Tian Shi Fu also has many techniques that can achieve this. Even in the vast Shen Zhou, although our Tian Shi Fu has lost the Xuan Yuan Sword Technique, in the hidden places of the famous mountains and rivers, there may still be some unburned copies."

"Just a sword technique, a wild statement from a demon's mouth, can disturb your mind like this. Do you really think there is anyone with such a high level of cultivation over a thousand years old? If so, then the Skin-Painting Bone Woman is just a small demon that can be easily destroyed by him, and there is no need to use the Xuan Yuan Sword Technique."

After repeated questioning, Song Xinghuai had nothing to say and could only bow and apologize.

The Taoist shook his head and said, "You are punished to retreat to the mountain for three months after this matter."

"Yes, I will follow your orders."

The old man beside him stroked his beard and said, "Now that the matter of your master's disciple is settled, let's talk about something else."

"Zhou Yi, when the Bone Woman begged for mercy, she mentioned a Tiger Lord. Is that right?"

Zhou Yi nodded and said, "Yes."

The old man frowned for a long time and said, "It seems that there is still a fierce tiger monster who has entered the divine path on that mountain. No wonder a demon like the Skin-Painting Bone Woman was born. Fortunately, it is in the wilderness, among the mountains and rivers. The modern powerful firearms can also be effective there."

"But we still need to survey the location to avoid excessive dispersion of power. You will arrange this."

"Yes.".......................

In the early morning light, a thin mist still lingered in the mountains.

A car struggled to make its way along the rugged mountain road, finally managing to come to a halt.

Xuan Yi, a disciple of the Weiming Sect, and three police officers got out of the car. They looked at the mist in the mountains with solemn expressions. This was the nearest village to the newly emerged mountain range. Drones would lose contact as soon as they entered the mountains. In order to survey the terrain, they had no choice but to come here in person.

The morning mist in the mountains did not disperse.

Xuan Yi and the others walked forward with their flashlights, stopping after only a dozen steps.

Ahead of them, several men and women dressed in the clothing of the Ming Dynasty stood silently in the fog, not uttering a word.