Chapter 115: Bargaining Chips

Among cultivators, it might be impossible to discern the precise level of one’s cultivation, but it is always apparent whether someone is a cultivator or an ordinary person. After all, the aura and spirit they exude are fundamentally different.

Thus, Chen Jin was not surprised to have his cultivation seen through. In fact, his current overt demeanor was deliberate, meant to let others know he was not weaker than them, and that in conversation, they should treat each other as equals.

Clearly, this person understood Chen Jin’s intention. Cultivators are not fools; some things can be grasped at a glance.

At this moment, many elders of the Zhang family stood in the living room. In the center rested a coffin—the coffin of the Zhang matriarch. It was battered, with broken corners and numerous scratches, some edges charred black, presenting a pitiful sight.

Chen Jin’s arrival drew all eyes to him—some dark, some surprised, others inexplicably so. Regardless, all were focused on him.

“Greetings, fellow cultivators,” Chen Jin cupped his hands in salute.

This had been his posture for days now. The elders’ expressions soured but they held back from acting rashly. Perhaps they still regarded Chen Jin as the foolish Zhang Junbao they once knew; merely, this madness had escalated to another level.

“Greetings, fellow cultivator,” Chen Jin then offered a Taoist greeting to a gray-robed Taoist standing in the center.

“Greetings, fellow cultivator,” the gray-robed Taoist replied solemnly.

This gesture was not only a sign of respect towards each other but also a tribute to the Three Pure Ones, the ancestral Taoist masters. Taoists across the land treated this with utmost caution.

Of course, this applied only to orthodox Taoist practitioners; those like the wandering hermit monks followed no such rules.

Thus, this hand seal could sometimes be used to confirm whether one truly shared the same Taoist path.

With the greetings concluded, an awkward silence fell upon the room.

Chen Jin found it hard to break the ice; the Zhang elders seemed equally uncertain, and the Taoist appeared indifferent, gazing leisurely at the ceiling.

“Junbao… this is Taoist Li Zheng,” Zhang Junbao’s father finally stepped forward helplessly.

Chen Jin nodded and turned to Li Zheng. The man appeared middle-aged, with a sallow complexion but a robust build, standing taller than Chen Jin. His Taoist robe was stretched tight over his strong frame.

“It was Taoist Li Zheng who drove away the evil spirits, granting your grandmother peace, and dispelled the demonic flames. Those two Taoists… they were disciples of Taoist Li Zheng as well. We hope Taoist Li Zheng will accept our condolences. The Zhang family will ensure they receive a proper burial,” Zhang Junbao’s father assured him.

“Much appreciated,” Li Zheng replied.

Chen Jin remained silent, waiting for an explanation as to why he had been summoned to the living room at this hour.

“Junbao, we called you here because of your grandmother. Her body was defiled by evil spirits, disturbing her spirit in the underworld. This has caused resentment, likely preventing her from reincarnating. Your grandmother was a lifetime of good deeds and cared deeply for you. You cannot allow her to be reborn full of bitterness, for that would hinder her from returning as a human,” Zhang Junbao’s father wept openly.

Other elders also sobbed, sharing in the grief.

Chen Jin could only watch, speechless.

Zhang Junbao’s father had yet to say anything further, having first stirred the emotions to the point of tears.

“Zhang, your filial piety is truly exemplary in this age. This humble Taoist respects you deeply,” Li Zheng praised Zhang Junbao’s father.

The two then engaged in mutual compliments, yet still avoided mentioning the reason for Chen Jin’s summons.

Chen Jin was patient, observing their performance; he had ample time and was wide awake, feeling alert.

“Junbao, to ease your grandmother’s resentment, we need your help,” Zhang Junbao’s father finally returned the topic to Chen Jin after the prolonged flattery.

“What do you need me to do?” Chen Jin asked.

“Taoist Li Zheng, please explain,” Zhang Junbao’s father looked to Li Zheng.

“You must keep vigil over Madam Zhang’s spirit overnight, on the seventh night,” Li Zheng said.

Chen Jin was taken aback by the simplicity of the request. He had expected something more complicated—perhaps his birth details or a drop of blood—but it was merely a vigil.

“Just me?” Chen Jin inquired.

“Yes,” Li Zheng nodded.

“Alright,” Chen Jin agreed.

Though the request was unusual, it was not impossible to fulfill. Besides, this gave him an opportunity to investigate the peculiarities of the Zhang family and to learn what Li Zheng and the black cat were after. This was a chance.

He still had four days ahead to thoroughly investigate the Zhang family. With clear targets—the Taoist Li Zheng and the black cat—Chen Jin hoped uncovering their identities would reveal the family’s secrets.

The meeting ended with everyone seemingly satisfied. Chen Jin returned to his room, while Li Zheng was invited by the Zhang elders to rest in the guest chamber, as it was late at night—the proper time for sleep.

Back in his room, Chen Jin resumed sitting cross-legged in meditation, feeling confident he would soon be visited.

Sure enough, before he had meditated three minutes, the door was gently pushed open by a breeze.

Li Zheng’s tall figure appeared in the doorway.

“A late-night visit, but it concerns important matters. I must trouble you, fellow cultivator,” Li Zheng smiled.

“Please come in,” Chen Jin gestured him inside.

“Thank you,” Li Zheng stepped in, and the door slowly closed behind him.

Once seated, Chen Jin looked at him calmly and asked, “Fellow cultivator, what are you and that cat demon scheming with the Zhang family? Why go to such lengths?”

Chen Jin did not beat around the bush. Li Zheng was not the black cat; the cat was capricious and likely to harass him relentlessly if displeased. Li Zheng, however, appeared gentler and considered himself a Taoist disciple, as did Chen Jin. Thus, Chen Jin felt no need for pretense.

“Are you unaware?” Li Zheng seemed surprised by the question.

“The cat demon told me, but I find it hard to believe a cat demon’s words. I want to hear your side, as a witness,” Chen Jin replied, careful not to reveal his true situation. He used the black cat as a shield and a bargaining chip.

At the mention of the cat demon, Li Zheng’s expression grew serious.

In negotiations, one must never be without leverage.