Chapter 24: Like a Ghost, Like a Buddha

"Oh?"

Yan Qing cast a sidelong glance at Xue Yan and the group of 'stranger NPCs' he had encountered in the game, but he paid them no mind.

The content of his conversation with An Wu was, in truth, irrelevant. What mattered was that An Wu could accurately identify the 'Yan Qing' account and provide the correct feedback in accordance with the plan Yan Qing had previously set within the 'Automatic Evolution' system.

According to his settings, An Wu would only report the current progress of the plan if he appeared in person and spoke the secret phrase: "An Wu, I have arrived." Should any condition be missing, the feedback protocol would not execute. If An Wu had failed to recognize him, Yan Qing would have suffered a humiliating loss of face in front of Black Wolf and the others.

Fortunately, the test results were quite gratifying—the identity recognition, voice recognition, and secret phrase recognition were all functional. This meant that even if Yan Qing did not have his gaming console on hand, he could trigger the 'hidden door' of his alt account via the secret phrase and subsequently control the character through voice commands.

Although Yan Qing remained indifferent to An Wu's words, Yaoshi Yuan, standing behind him, did not ignore them: "What are they complaining about?"

As an automated program, An Wu did not respond to Yaoshi Yuan’s question. Yan Qing had no choice but to explain on his behalf: "An Wu saved them, yet they are complaining that he was too slow. They are likely also griping that he didn't give them Blood-Replenishing Pills sooner."

Blood-Replenishing Pills!

Yan Qing spoke with effortless nonchalance, for he truly did not care about the pills—who would care about the lowest-tier red potions in a game?—but for those in the know, like Yaoshi Yuan, these words stirred up a tempest of shock.

One had to understand that the Blood-Replenishing Pill had a common name among the folk: the Elixir of Immortality!

It meant that once this pill was consumed, no matter how severe the injury, one could be saved; even if the heart were pierced, it could forcibly tether a soul to life!

Even for individuals of the status of Yaoshi Yuan, Ying Rushi, and Shang Xinlei, the number of Blood-Replenishing Pills they could obtain each month was minimal, and often required a formal petition. One of the reasons Yaoshi Yuan had been able to establish the Embroidered Uniform Guard was that she could secure a certain quantity of these pills from her father to serve as startup capital.

To use such precious medicine to save mere strangers was, to Yan Qing... simply too extravagant!

Following the trail of lamp oil and blood on the floor, Yaoshi Yuan looked toward the heavy iron gate in the inner sanctum that led underground. Combined with the earlier rumors of human trafficking at Anguo Temple, she had basically deduced the truth. She glanced at Xue Yan and his group; she had seen several of them before—they were the descendants of mid-level court nobles and officials.

However, Yaoshi Yuan felt not a shred of sympathy for them.

Though they were victims, one could tell from their appearance that they were nothing more than parasites born into noble clans. Yaoshi Yuan even felt that saving these people would only result in the waste of the capital's grain.

"You, what do you want?"

"I am the nephew of the Grand Minister of Agriculture, Su Ling. Save me, and the Su family will surely reward you handsomely!"

Seeing the formidable and murderous Yaoshi Yuan approaching, many of them were frightened out of their wits, either begging for mercy or resorting to threats, yet not a single one dared to resist or flee.

Witnessing such an ugly display, Yaoshi Yuan’s disgust deepened.

Just as she raised her long spear, a young girl mustered the courage to step forward and shouted, "Not everyone is complaining! I am very grateful that he saved us!"

Xue Yan, whose legs had turned to jelly from Yaoshi Yuan’s killing intent, regained his senses and hurriedly expressed his stance: "Yes, exactly! To repay the life-saving grace of An Wu and An Liu, I am willing to do anything!"

Yan Qing did not care about these strangers, so he had not interfered when Black Wolf wanted to strike, but hearing Xue Yan say this, he took an interest: "You said you are willing to do anything?"

Upon hearing this response, Xue Yan immediately understood Yan Qing’s meaning and turned to the others: "I am willing! You all are willing too, right?"

"Wi-willing!"

"I will give as much money as you want! My father is Wang Yuanhai!"

"There is no way to repay a life-saving grace; whatever our benefactors require, I will surely fulfill!"

The others also knew how to read the room. Under Xue Yan’s pressure, they scrambled to express their compliance—the fierce man in the Black Wolf mask had already raised his spear; if they didn't bow their heads now, they would die!

"Black Wolf, they still have some use. Let them be," Yan Qing said with a smile.

What kind of tone is that? Do you take me for your subordinate!?

Yaoshi Yuan wanted nothing more than to slaughter them all to spite the 'Yellow Dog,' but since the Yellow Dog said they were useful, she chose reason over her anger. She glared at Xue Yan and the others, snorted coldly, and returned to the side of Yan Qing and his companions.

"There are over a dozen jars of lamp oil here. Later, An Wu and the others will splash the oil over every exit of Anguo Temple. If you want to help, pick up the jars and follow behind them to splash. However, they will be blocking the temple to prevent anyone from entering or leaving, so if you want to escape later, you must return to the main gate and leave with us."

The nobles agreed repeatedly. Many had wandering minds; if they reached an exit, they could simply leave, right? As for An Wu and the others blocking the gate—with a gate as large as Anguo Temple's, how could they possibly block it?

Although Yan Qing did not know what they were thinking, letting them help was merely a whim—a casual move. Even if they were of no use, he wouldn't mind; if they were useful, then saving them hadn't been in vain.

Passing by An Wu and the others, Yan Qing said, "Follow the plan."

"Yes." An Wu lifted a jar of oil with one hand and walked out of the inner sanctum without looking back. An Liu and the others followed closely. Seeing this, the nobles scrambled to follow, but at a cold snort from Yaoshi Yuan, their hearts skipped a beat, and they obediently followed Xue Yan to carry the oil jars.

Miss Yang did not rush out. She watched as Yan Qing drew his blade to sever the lock on the gold vault of the inner sanctum. She instinctively wanted to say something, but in the next second, she was dragged away by Xue Yan.

"Haven't you heard? Do not look at what is improper, do not listen to what is improper, do not speak of what is improper!" Xue Yan stuffed a jar of oil into his arms. "Don't concern yourself with a place like Anguo Temple that hides dirt and filth!"

Miss Yang: "But inside the vault are the assets of various families—"

"Do you really think they are good people? Let's splash the oil and leave quickly. A case of this magnitude—not just you, even your father wouldn't dare touch it!"

Xue Yan ran outside carrying the oil jar. The first thing he saw was the gruesome remains of corpses and blood covering the ground, which made him feel so nauseous he nearly vomited—had his stomach not been completely empty, he might well have. As he looked up, his expression changed instantly: "Oh no!"

Several monks had gathered at the main gate, preparing to force it open and escape. The monks were not fools; seeing that Yan Qing’s group of thugs had entered the inner sanctum and hadn't come out for a long time, they naturally sought an opportunity to flee this place of trouble.

An Wu’s mission was to block the gate and let no one out. He simply hurled his oil jar toward the gate and then drew his blade, executing a 'Moon Ring' strike!

The armor-piercing, stone-shattering crescent cut landed on the monks, yet it had absolutely no effect. It was clear that the rules ignoring the main city's protection only existed between 'thieves' and 'non-thieves.' Since both An Wu and the monks belonged to the category of 'non-thieves,' the city's laws still applied to them, rendering them unable to harm one another.

An Wu was not surprised by this; he strode directly toward the monks.

In this life-or-death moment, even a rabbit will bite, let alone the martial monks raised by Anguo Temple? Seeing An Wu charge at them, they let out a roar, intending to stop him.

But in the next second, they were screaming in agony, fleeing as if they had seen a ghost!

Because An Wu was burning.

His only remaining left arm, now drenched in lamp oil, had become a torch, illuminating the dim, windowless Anguo Temple in the middle of the day.

The martial monks, splashed with oil, caught fire the moment they were grazed by An Wu’s flames, and no amount of rolling on the ground could extinguish the fire.

A small gap was opened in the main gate of Anguo Temple. An Wu walked over and stood in front of the gap. Beneath his feet was a pool of oil; he himself had crippled arms, yet none of the surrounding monks dared to step within a foot of him!

At the side and back gates of Anguo Temple, the same scene unfolded.

An Liu, An Seven, An Eight, and An Nine, their arms soaked in oil, used their own bodies as firewood to ignite demonic flames, blocking the exits. Even as the monks engaged in sophisticated arguments, they could not shake them in the slightest.

With the monks unable to leave, the nobles were naturally trapped as well. When some monks noticed they were the 'cargo' that had escaped the dungeon and tried to seize them, the nobles were forced to fight back, splashing oil on the monks as they fled. Soon, the entire Anguo Temple, from the floor to the rafters, was drenched in oil.

Xue Yan and Miss Yang splashed a circle of oil around the main gate, frightening the monks into retreating further away. Looking at An Wu, who was blocking the entrance, Xue Yan swallowed his saliva and said with a trembling voice, "An... An Wu, could you move aside a little so we can get out?"

An Wu’s expression remained blank. He did not respond, nor did he look at them.

"Alright, then we’ll wait for your leader to come out and we'll leave together."

Miss Yang suddenly spoke: "Can you stop now? If you keep burning, your left hand will be gone. Doesn't it hurt?"

An Wu, who had shown no reaction to anything they said, suddenly looked at Miss Yang. Xue Yan was so frightened he pulled the girl to his side. But before Xue Yan could apologize, he saw a smile appear on An Wu’s face.

"If someone cares, then it’s not too bad," he muttered to himself, then said to them, "It doesn't hurt."

"I don't feel any pain at all."

Xue Yan looked at the boy before him, who was barely older than himself, his face burned and his arms charred to coal, and suddenly felt a strong sense of déjà vu, as if he had seen someone similar to him somewhere before. But upon deep reflection, he could not figure out why.

Suddenly, a ray of sunlight pierced his eyes.

Xue Yan looked up and saw that the high wall of Anguo Temple had, at some point, developed a small hole.

Around the hole was a mural of a majestic, awe-inspiring Dragon-Subduing Arhat holding a vajra pestle and a rope, surrounded by fire clouds, embodying both mercy and majesty. The hole was positioned exactly at the Arhat’s left eye, and the sunlight streamed through the gap, penetrating the dim, centuries-old temple.

It was as if the Dragon-Subduing Arhat were watching over the world.