Song Lin spent three years in the Lao Mountain Taoist World.
During those three years, he mastered the Eight Secret Skills of Zhigang Taoist, broke through to the fetal breathing realm, and learned how to make Hidden Dragon Breath Emission Powder.
He cleared more than fifty percent of the karma written in the ancient texts.
It was a fruitful harvest. Although he couldn't bring things back, he retained the related memories upon returning to the Real World, allowing him to cultivate slowly.
With a single thought, Song Lin returned to the Real World.
The moment he returned, he suddenly felt a wave of weakness, his vision darkened, and he nearly collapsed off the bed.
"Not good!"
His stomach growled with hunger…
Song Lin nearly forgot—during the three years spent in the Lao Mountain World, only three days had passed in the outside world.
And during those three days, he hadn't eaten a single meal.
Luckily, he awoke in time; otherwise, he might've starved to death.
Having recently switched jobs, he hadn't worked in those three days. If he didn't starve, someone might've beaten him to death instead.
Song Lin fished out a few dry biscuits and gobbled them up with cold water, finally feeling slightly better.
"I'll have to be more careful next time," Song Lin muttered to himself.
The Meditation stage didn't allow for food abstinence; it only slightly extended the time one could go without eating. Ten days might be manageable, but anything beyond that was impossible.
After regaining his strength, he opened the ancient texts and flipped to the third page, where his personal information was recorded.
Name: Song Lin
Realm: Meditation
Taoist Realm: Half a year
Divine Skill: Bat Bright Eyes Technique.
Items: Three Yang Fire Sword, Qi Nourishing Pill, Hidden Dragon Breath Emission Powder.
Back in the Real World, his stats panel had changed. Indeed, he couldn't bring anything tangible back.
But he still had the memories.
With that, Song Lin stood up and pulled out a wooden box from under his bed.
Inside was a wooden sword, along with various sundries like yellow talisman papers and cinnabar.
These were Zhang Jin's possessions, stored under his bed.
Song Lin took out a sheet of talisman paper, spread it on the table, ground some cinnabar with water, and dipped a brush into it.
Composing himself, he focused entirely on his Spirit Platform.
Then, he began to draw.
He started by sketching three strokes, representing the Three Pure Ones—this formed the talisman's head.
Next came the commands, the two columns of Heaven and Earth, exterior lines like the Wind and Fire Wheel, and the inscription of four large characters within: "Avoiding Filth, Exorcising Evil." At the tail end, he added the character "Gang" as the talisman's core.
Finally, he infused a sliver of True Qi into it.
As expected, it failed.
Song Lin wasn't discouraged and continued drawing talismans.
Recreating abilities from the story world would take time—he had to start over from the beginning.
Drawing talismans wasn't too difficult; as long as one mastered the technique and completed the patterns, it could be done.
This type of talisman wasn't particularly challenging; it followed the "Official Script School," which adhered to fixed regulations and formats. By incorporating the unique True Qi infusion techniques of talisman writing, one could succeed.
There was another method, known as the "Pictorial School," which had no clear rules and often looked like scribbles.
For the same spell, different individuals' talismans could look completely different.
This type of talisman bore no text and relied on the practitioner's True Qi and Divine Thought to draw intricate patterns, capable of channeling the forces of Heaven and Earth.
Such talismans tended to possess greater power.
While pondering, Song Lin successfully drew an Avoiding Filth Talisman.
After an hour, he had completed three Avoiding Filth Talismans and two Fire Light Talismans.
By then, he had almost exhausted his True Qi.
At this time, the sky was breaking into dawn.
Song Lin packed up his belongings and headed out.
The morning mist was hazy, and dew dampened his shoulders.
At every crossroads stood towering forms with red jade-like faces—the Yellow Turban Taoist Soldiers on guard.
Normally, they stood motionless like statues, but in the face of any disturbance, they would instantly transform into rage-fueled Vajras, shattering the skulls of their enemies.
Before long, Song Lin arrived at a grand mansion.
White walls, black tiles, red lacquered gates, and lofty eaves.
Two lifelike pitch-black Xiezhi statues flanked the entrance, with two tall flags fluttering audibly in the wind nearby.
Above the red gates hung a plaque with two large characters: Dianzao.
Arriving at this mansion and its surrounding gardens,
the environment seemed to shift—the sky turned an ashen gray, yin energy grew exceedingly dense, and the mansion was shrouded in a faint green mist, making Dianzao Mansion resemble the netherworld.
This was the Dianzao Mansion.
One of its departments, also called Dianzao, was responsible for crafting various tools, processing materials, maintaining dharma altars, and so on.
Taoist Wude was the Altar Master of the Yin Yang Altar within this mansion, though Dianzao itself was overseen by someone else.
Song Lin stepped through the gates.
Just then, shadows loomed beside the gates, and a group of figures emerged from the mist.
Song Lin stopped in his tracks as the group passed by him.
The figures were nine feet tall, clad in brown battle armor and wielding long sabers. Their faces were a bluish-green, their hair disheveled, and their fangs protruded sharply.
They marched in two rows, 18 in total.
Leading them was an Iron Armor General, whose piercing gaze settled briefly on Song Lin's waist, where his Child Talisman hung. Satisfied, the general led his soldiers away silently.
Once they departed, Song Lin continued deeper into the mansion, cold sweat streaming down his back unconsciously.
These weren't humans—they were Rampant Soldiers, ghost soldiers.
Far stronger than ordinary evil ghosts, this group of just eighteen could—if they formed a proper formation—easily annihilate two hundred fierce ghosts.
Following the path, Song Lin arrived at a grand hall. A Taoist disciple guided him into another courtyard.
In the courtyard, the ground was littered with yellow talisman paper, and the walls were draped in yellow cloth covered with runes.
The courtyard's house resembled a large ancestral hall, with hundreds of black altars enshrined inside.
Incense smoke coiled densely, rising straight toward the heavens.
The courtyard was sparsely populated, with a burly man in a purple robe directing others.
This was none other than Taoist Wude, standing next to Li Xuan.
"Oh, you're finally here." When Li Xuan saw Song Lin, he immediately smiled and stepped forward. "I thought you weren't coming and was about to send someone to fetch you."
"Why wouldn't I come? Isn't this a good thing?"
Song Lin smirked faintly. For some reason, his gaze made Li Xuan feel extremely uneasy.
"Good, then." Li Xuan laughed, convincing himself it was just his imagination.
After all, Song Lin was an ordinary Taoist disciple—hardly someone worth his attention.
In the future, Li Xuan would become Taoist Wude's disciple, promising him a bright future. How could a lowly Taoist disciple even dream of comparing? Even if he had wronged this guy, so what? What could Song Lin possibly do to seek revenge?
With that thought, Li Xuan's expression grew colder. "Work hard. I know you resent me, but the world isn't fair, is it?"
"Haha, exactly right." Song Lin chuckled.
He couldn't be bothered to argue—given the opportunity, he vowed to settle the karmic grudges between his past self and his present life.
"What's going on?"
Taoist Wude noticed Song Lin before turning to Li Xuan. "Is this the person you recommended?"
"Yes, Taoist Master."
"Very well. Liuu Hee!" Taoist Wude called toward the hall.
"Coming!"
A figure flickered. Before everyone appeared a middle-aged man with bronze-toned skin. Judging by the talisman at his waist, he was an Advanced Taoist bestowed with the Child General Talisman.
"Take him around to familiarize him with the altar duties, and also…"
A piercing scream interrupted their conversation.
From within the hall, a black altar suddenly shattered, releasing a wisp of black energy.
A palm-sized, crimson-skinned green ghost baby spun in mid-air, rapidly expanding before latching onto a Taoist disciple's neck. Its fangs sank into the disciple's neck with a chilling sucking sound, and in moments, the disciple became a shriveled corpse.
Taoist Wude's eyes flashed with icy light. Forming a hand gesture, a ball of eerie green Yin Fire shot out, incinerating the ghost baby and the corpse to ash.
The grisly scene left everyone speechless with fear.
In mere moments, a life was snuffed out.
Taoist Wude cursed furiously:
"Damn it! How many times have I said it? Sacrificial ghost children require not only incense offerings but also need to be fed every three days with pills made from glutinous rice, dried fruits, Ghost Spirit Grass, and human blood. Damn it, did someone forget again?"
"Your name's Song Lin?" Taoist Wude glanced over.
"That's right."
"From now on, you're responsible for managing the Ghost Baby Altar."