The life of training unfolded day after day.

　　A year later, I had fully adapted to this lifestyle, and my physical condition had noticeably improved.

　　By the third year, my skills in Taoist practices had advanced significantly. I had explored mountain medicine, fate reading, and divination, meeting Master’s initial expectations.

　　Five years later, I had left the mountain. Not only had my Taoist practice become refined, but I had also mastered various techniques. My abilities even surpassed Master’s, allowing me to step in and tackle many problems on his behalf.

　　Now, eight years later, Master told me that I was exceptionally gifted and had made rapid progress. He felt he had nothing more to teach me. However, he reminded me that the path of Tao is limitless; just because he had nothing left to impart didn’t mean I had nothing left to learn. My journey ahead was still long.

　　“Gou wa.”

　　“Yes, Master.”

　　Master sat cross-legged on the bed while I wiped down the table.

　　“The time has come; you should leave the mountain!”

　　I thought he was joking. “Don’t mess with me, Master. I...”

　　He quickly cut me off: “Honestly, from the very first time I met you, I knew you were extraordinary—far beyond the average person. That’s why I chose you as my disciple. Now it seems I wasn’t mistaken. In just eight years, you’ve already surpassed me.”

　　I didn’t know how to respond and simply lowered my head slightly.

　　In truth, I had sensed this all along. After all, not everyone can walk this path.

　　The study of metaphysics is challenging for most people to even begin. Those who can’t grasp it properly often end up as madmen, let alone using Tao to subdue demons and ghosts.

　　He continued, “You shouldn’t stay in this small temple forever. It’s time for you to go down the mountain. Remember what I told you, and we’ll meet again in two years.”

　　“Master... I...” I was taken aback, not expecting him to be serious.

　　“Enough, go!”

　　With a deep sigh, I bowed to Master three times. After the third bow, I didn’t lift my head because tears were streaming down my face, and I didn’t want him to see.

　　Eight years had passed in the blink of an eye. If it weren’t for Master, I would still be that “disaster” kid in Yao Village, the one everyone pointed at and scolded. Thanks to his guidance, I had become who I was today. He was the one who truly saved me from despair.

　　Master helped me up, and I realized I was now half a head taller than him.

　　“You little rascal, still trying to play games with your Master? Get your things together; you’re leaving first thing tomorrow morning!” He patted my shoulder with a smile.

　　I understood Master’s temperament and simply nodded.

　　That night, I prepared a feast for Master, and we both indulged in a hearty meal. We chatted late into the night, eventually falling asleep with our heads resting on the table.

　　The next morning, I woke up at dawn. Glancing over at Master, who was still sleeping and snoring loudly, I didn’t want to disturb him. I quietly got up, returned to my room, and quickly packed a few clothes before setting off.

　　I left a letter for Master and took one last look at the Xuanxin Temple as I stepped outside, feeling a pang of reluctance. After all, I had come to see this place as my home.

　　I had no idea when I would be back.

　　As I gazed toward the sunrise in the east, a warm smile spread across my face, and I was suddenly reminded of the wandering heroes I had read about in books.

　　“Maybe I should be like them now?” I thought to myself, feeling a sense of happiness as I made my way down the mountain.

　　I had no desire to return to Yao Village; aside from my grandfather, there wasn’t much there that I cared about. After weighing my options, I decided it would be better to find my senior sister first, so I set off for Guangji Prefecture to look for her.

　　Without wasting any time, I arrived in Shanshi, about a hundred miles from Qiyun Mountain, just as dusk was settling in. As the evening shadows grew longer, I found a restaurant to grab a bite to eat.

　　After years of mountain living, I had grown accustomed to a simple diet, so I ordered just a plate of cold cucumbers and a bowl of plain noodles.

　　Master had once told me that a simple life is also a form of cultivation. On a smaller scale, it sharpens the mind; on a larger scale, it embodies the principle that the great way is simple.

　　The development of all things in the world follows a cyclical pattern, ultimately restarting at some point—this is the cycle of reincarnation.

　　“Hey, what do you think about that strange thing that’s been going around lately?” Suddenly, a woman at the next table chimed in.

　　“What strange thing?” The man sitting across from her was munching on a steamed bun, thoroughly enjoying a plate of meat dishes in front of him.

　　“It’s about the Garden Community. You haven’t heard?” The man shook his head, clearly in the dark.

　　“Honestly, I don’t know what you pay attention to every day!” the woman shot back casually before continuing, “That place has been really unsettling lately. Two people have died in less than half a month!”

　　“And then?” The man kept munching, his curiosity piqued.

　　The woman grew more animated as she spoke: “I heard both of them committed suicide!”

　　“Suicide?” This time, the man stopped eating and stared at her, his interest fully captured.

　　“Yeah, and they both hanged themselves. Isn’t that creepy?”

　　He finished the last piece of his steamed bun, his brow furrowing in concern.

　　“It can’t be that coincidental!”

　　“Who says it isn’t? And it all happened in the same apartment!”

　　The man’s expression shifted, finally looking a bit rattled. “Don’t scare me like that. Same apartment?”

　　“Yep, they both hanged themselves in the living room. Now it’s become the infamous haunted house in our little county. I’ve heard a lot of people have already moved out of that building.”

　　“That’s strange. The Garden Community is one of the nicer neighborhoods around here. How could something like this happen?”

　　The woman waved her hand dismissively. “Who knows? The police investigated for two months and then just wrapped up the case without much fanfare.”

　　The man paused for a moment, then suddenly said, “Oh, remember a few years ago when something happened at the Garden Community too?”

　　“Really? I didn’t know about that,” the woman replied, looking genuinely puzzled.

　　“I can’t recall all the details, but someone died back then as well. It caused quite a stir—people even went to the police station to protest. It made the newspapers.”

　　I was sitting nearby, sipping a glass of water while listening to their conversation, not intending to get involved.

　　“Waiter, check, please!” I called out.

　　The waiter was a young guy who looked to be a couple of years younger than me.

　　“Sure thing, that’ll be two dollars and seventy cents.”

　　I smiled and pulled a five-dollar bill from my pocket. As he rummaged through his change to give me my money back, I casually asked, “What’s the story behind that incident at the Garden Community?”

　　To my surprise, the waiter paused and said, “Two people died, and it was really strange.”

　　Seeing that he seemed to know something, I pressed further, “What was so strange about it?”

　　He handed me my change and replied, “Don’t even get me started. One of the people who died was someone I knew pretty well. He was usually such a cheerful guy. How could he suddenly commit suicide by hanging himself?”

　　“Hey, Xiao Sheng, come help out!”

　　“Coming!” he shouted back, then turned to me and said, “I gotta run, man.”

　　After he dashed off, I didn’t ask any more questions, even though I suspected that the deaths were too suspicious and likely had something to do with dark forces or negative energy.

　　But in our line of work, there are rules: unless we encounter something personally or the family reaches out to us, we can’t just intervene.

　　What I didn’t expect was that the case at the Hua Yuan Community would turn out to be the first problem I’d have to tackle after coming down the mountain.