Misguided practice of sinister cultivation techniques: Slander! The problem lies with you all, not me!-Chapter 400 - 255: You Really Dare to Disrespect This Young Hero? (Seeking Subscriptions)
Chapter 400: Chapter 255: You Really Dare to Disrespect This Young Hero? (Seeking Subscriptions)
Yuchang Town, is just a very ordinary small town in the mountainous region of Yu State.
If it has a characteristic, it must be that it is built on the mountains, so due to the terrain, the entire town’s architecture is like intertwined fish intestines, and strangers can easily get lost walking inside.
A storyteller around thirty years of age, with a square cloth wrapped around his head, walks on the fish intestine-like paths.
He seems to know his way around, as this is his ancestral home.
At the end of the alley, there is a withered pine or cypress tree, standing like a piece of rotting wood, or a dead body.
The storyteller goes straight to the door next to it and enters.
Here is a small courtyard, behind the courtyard there are three pitch-black corridors.
Nobody, not even the locals, is sure where these three corridors actually lead.
After all, this is a private house; it’s perfectly reasonable for it to be built according to the mountainous terrain and twist like fish intestines.
The storyteller goes directly into the corridor on the left.
After passing through the darkness, another withered tree appears in front of him.
But then his figure flickers beside the withered tree, and he has disappeared into the ground.
Below the tree is a gloomy space that seems to be a shrine, solemn and mysterious.
As the storyteller walks inside, his eyes shine as if glowing.
Ahead, a white screen appears.
In front of the screen stands another storyteller dressed just like him.
The two have somewhat similar features, but one’s face is full of wrinkles and looks aged; thus, they seem less like brothers and more like father and son or uncle and nephew.
The storyteller takes the incense and candles from the old storyteller and walks behind the screen.
At this point, several red threads are hanging down from above the shrine.
Among those entwined red threads, a lump of meat is suspended.
The lump is black, its surface full of textures, resembling both a piece of liver and a sort of elixir.
The storyteller undoes his headband, flicks his finger lightly, and a cluster of flames blossoms at his fingertips, lighting the incense candle he brought.
The candle burns, illuminating the storyteller’s face.
At this moment, he is kneeling on the ground, kowtowing and bowing to the hanging lump of meat, murmuring words.
It’s as if he is not facing a piece of meat, but his ancestors or deities.
Even more bizarre, when the smoke rises from the incense burner, the black lump of meat starts to move.
Its surface begins to show slits and small holes, like open mouths and nostrils, crazily sucking in the scent of the incense.
And at this time, the burning incense clearly contains things like hair and nails embedded in it.
Drip, drip, drip...
At this moment, the black lump of meat begins to drop a black liquid, which falls into the porcelain bowl below.
The storyteller carefully wraps the bowl in cloth and exits.
He stands next to the old man.
The old man’s face is expressionless like a human skin mask, he says coldly, "I thought you wouldn’t come back so soon."
The middle-aged storyteller replies, "I didn’t expect it either."
"How is Tai Sui doing?" asks the old storyteller.
"It will try to awaken our clan members," the middle-aged storyteller answers.
The old man says dispassionately, "Is the situation really so dire that you need to use Tai Sui so soon?"
"These days, although the number of our clan members has not noticeably decreased, their power to control minds and reverse right and wrong has been weakening, even Tai Sui has noticed," the middle-aged storyteller contemplates.
The old man remains impassive, questioning, "Why is that the case?"
"The Bloodthirsty Storyteller, this new group of evil demons that have emerged, actually possess abilities similar to ours, to bewitch people’s hearts. On their territories, they are gradually becoming strong enough to contend with us, which is not conducive to our dominance over the Martial World," laments the middle-aged storyteller.
"Is it that Old Demon Duan who started this storyteller business?" asks the old man.
"Yes, it is him! Recently in Gathering Talent Manor, he destroyed the Execution Sect led by Huangshan Sword Sect, even the previously renowned Lady of Huangshan Sword Sect was scared to death," the middle-aged storyteller explains.
"That Mad Woman Zhao Ling thought, by refining Dragon Essence, she could lead the Martial World, pure folly," the old man’s tone is cold.
"Why not kill that group of evil demon storytellers, along with Old Demon Duan?" the old man continues to question.
"They are too similar to us; we can’t kill them all," the middle-aged storyteller explains.
"How is that possible? Old Demon Duan isn’t Tai Sui!"
Emotion surfaces on the old storyteller’s face for the first time.
"It’s the strangeness of the situation, no matter what we do to them, even if we kill and dismember them, there still would be those who would take up the mantle of the Great Hero Storyteller, and their numbers might even grow."
Speaking of which, the middle-aged storyteller looks at the porcelain bowl in his hand and says, "This is also why I came to request help from Tai Sui. With the dripping of Tai Sui’s blood, the Bloodthirsty Storyteller will rage. These four drops of Tai Sui blood are enough to make our people appear like bamboo shoots after the rain in both states."
In simple terms, the Bloodthirsty Storytelling would become a phenomenon passed from person to person.
At least in both Qingzhou and Leizhou, the Bloodthirsty Storytellers will take control of the situation with overwhelming numbers.
The old man sighs, "Nowadays, Tai Sui only has this remnant limb left, and there is not much blood it can spill."
The middle-aged storyteller bows his head, reverently saying, "That’s why Tai Sui is not pleased and wants you, Uncle, to serve It."
The face of the old storyteller twitches.
Surely something that causes his face to twitch must be extremely dreadful and painful.
After all, there are not many things in this world that can provoke emotion in him.
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