PCJ – Chapter 450 A Dilapidated Taoist Temple

Zhang Jiaohua ignored Zhang Guanyu and picked up the last grilled fish for himself. However, his way of eating was unusual—unlike others who discarded the bones and entrails, Zhang Jiaohua swallowed the entire fish in one gulp. The fish vanished as if by magic.

Zhang Guanyu was dumbfounded, his mouth agape, nearly dropping his own fish. He feared Zhang Jiaohua might stand up and leave, but to his relief, Zhang Jiaohua quietly remained seated on the stone after finishing his meal.

The weather, which had been sunny in the afternoon, suddenly shifted. As night fell, rain began to pour. Fat Cat, Leopard, and Chubby Monkey instinctively huddled close to Zhang Jiaohua. Zhang Guanyu, however, had to toss his leftover fish into the bushes and scramble for shelter.

Zhang Guanyu didn’t initially understand the significance of the animals’ actions, but soon he witnessed something extraordinary. Around Zhang Jiaohua, an invisible shield seemed to form—a bubble-like protective barrier. Rainwater that fell above him was diverted to the sides, creating a stunning, spherical curtain of water. Zhang Jiaohua, along with his three companions, remained completely dry within the sphere.

“Qi energy can be used like this?” Zhang Guanyu muttered, scratching the back of his head in astonishment.

Caught in the rain, Zhang Guanyu sought refuge but was unable to enter Zhang Jiaohua’s shield. Each time he approached, he was repelled by a subtle force. The protective barrier allowed Zhang Jiaohua’s spirit beasts to enter freely, but Zhang Guanyu felt the stark exclusion. He feared that forcing his way in might provoke Zhang Jiaohua, who could easily retaliate with a spell.

The rain continued through the night, soaking Zhang Guanyu. By morning, the rain had cleared, and sunlight pierced through the misty forest, creating a dazzling play of light and shadow.

Zhang Jiaohua opened his eyes and stood up in a single motion. Without a word, Leopard, Fat Cat, and Chubby Monkey immediately followed suit.

Zhang Guanyu, waking up still weary, hurried over to Zhang Jiaohua. “Friend, please wait!” he called out.

But Zhang Jiaohua, unmoved, began to walk away. When Zhang Guanyu tried to grab his arm, Leopard leaped forward, snapping at his hand. Zhang Guanyu pulled back just in time to avoid a deep bite. Had Leopard attacked with full force, Zhang Guanyu might have been seriously injured.

He inhaled sharply, realizing how ferocious the seemingly harmless spirit beasts could be when provoked.

“Woof, woof!” Leopard barked, standing protectively in front of Zhang Jiaohua and glaring at Zhang Guanyu with hostility.

“I mean no harm, truly!” Zhang Guanyu hastily explained, raising his hands in a gesture of peace.

Despite his reassurance, all three spirit beasts—Leopard, Fat Cat, and Chubby Monkey—remained on guard, ready to attack at the slightest provocation.

“I just want to speak with him,” Zhang Guanyu said, pointing to Zhang Jiaohua. “My Taoist temple is nearby. You can rest there for a while. This friend’s clothes are clearly too small, and while you stay, I can contact someone outside the mountain to prepare a suitable outfit for him.”

Hearing this, Zhang Jiaohua stopped and turned to look at Zhang Guanyu. Despite only being a remnant consciousness inhabiting the body, this fragment of Zhang Jiaohua’s awareness had grown more capable of independent thought over the months. He had understood Zhang Guanyu’s words.

“I mean it,” Zhang Guanyu added. “You can come to my temple to rest and change into better-fitting clothes.”

Zhang Jiaohua nodded slightly.

“This way, please.” Zhang Guanyu quickly led the way.

The so-called “temple” was little more than a simple dwelling. During the Cultural Revolution, Zhang Guanyu’s original Taoist temple had been destroyed. He had only managed to save a statue of the sect’s founder, sneaking it out under cover of night. The rest was beyond his ability to protect. While escaping, he had injured a local militia leader and was chased across several mountains before narrowly escaping with his life. Since then, he had not dared return to his hometown.

The current structure was entirely of his own making, built plank by plank over the years. That it had survived decades was, in itself, a minor miracle. Zhang Guanyu had built it alone, a testament to his resilience.

When Zhang Jiaohua entered the temple, his face revealed a faint smirk of disdain, making Zhang Guanyu feel deeply embarrassed.

“Ahem, I built this place on my own,” Zhang Guanyu said, attempting to justify the state of the dwelling. “I left in such a rush that I only managed to save the founder’s statue. Everything else was destroyed. I’ve lived in this mountain for decades, and having a roof over my head is more than enough for me.”

Zhang Jiaohua’s expression, though subtle, was odd. His disdain wasn’t truly his own—it came from the growing independent will of the residual consciousness controlling his body. This was a worrying development for Zhang Jiaohua’s original spirit, as it indicated that the residual consciousness might one day take full control.

Unaware of this internal struggle, Zhang Jiaohua’s main consciousness remained focused on absorbing energy within his sea of consciousness, growing stronger.

Meanwhile, Zhang Guanyu brewed tea for Zhang Jiaohua before heading to his small vegetable garden to prepare lunch.

Suddenly, an elderly voice called out from outside, “Master, are you home?”

Zhang Guanyu stepped outside and greeted the visitor with a smile. “I heard magpies chattering this morning and knew I’d have a guest today.”

The visitor was Liu Zhaodong, an herbalist from Muyun Village. “Master, I see you have company today. Perhaps I should visit another time?”

“It’s no bother at all,” Zhang Guanyu replied warmly.

“Master, the rain has made the roads muddy and impassable. The rice delivery will be delayed by a few days,” Liu Zhaodong said apologetically.

“That’s fine. No rush.” Zhang Guanyu then added, “Actually, I do have another favor to ask.”

“What is it, Master? Just say the word,” Liu Zhaodong asked, though somewhat apprehensive about what the favor might entail.

“It’s nothing difficult,” Zhang Guanyu reassured him. “This young man’s clothes are too small. Could you arrange for a clean, well-fitting outfit to be sent for him?”