Chapter Thirty-Two: Your Grandfather Remains Your Grandfather

“Have they already left?” Bao Xincun glanced at the returning Boyang, then continued with his treatment.

“They’ve gone. But Senior Brother, why did you send Xinyang? Weren’t you suspicious of him?” Boyang asked, puzzled.

“It’s precisely because I suspect him that I sent him to fetch the medicine,” Bao Xincun replied without turning his head.

“If you want to test him, you shouldn’t use those pills,” Boyang said, agitated.

“It’s fine. Zhongxin set out early to fetch the medicine,” Bao Xincun responded with confidence.

“That’s good, but what if he doesn’t bring them back? How will you explain it?” Boyang said worriedly.

“If he doesn’t bring them, we’ll say so honestly. If he does, then we can be sure he’s aligned with the sorcerers using witchcraft,” Bao Xincun replied, full of certainty.

“Very well, Senior Brother, but don’t harm your friendship with Daoist Xinyang,” Boyang said, concerned.

“Don’t worry. Let nature take its course and watch how things develop,” Bao Xincun said as he moved to the next patient.

Boyang shook his head and sighed, then followed to help treat the sick.

…

Chen Jin had already slipped back quietly and was watching the two, listening to their conversation.

Truth be told, it wasn’t just them who distrusted him—he didn’t trust them either. The mutual suspicion was clear.

Now that he had overheard the truth, Chen Jin hesitated. Was it really worth the effort to go searching for the medicine on the southern slopes of Gaoping Mountain?

He pondered for a moment, then muttered an incantation.

Suddenly, a figure identical to himself appeared at his side. Yet, under the moonlight, this figure cast no shadow.

This was an intriguing spell: the Mirror Image Technique. Xinyang had stumbled upon it by chance, and few knew he possessed it.

With the mirror image’s appearance, Chen Jin’s own figure gradually faded away, melting into the darkness.

The mirror image, in Chen Jin’s absence, became lively and convincing—except for its lack of a shadow, it was indistinguishable from the real Chen Jin.

He directed the double toward Gaoping Mountain, while he himself hid in the shadow of a rooftop eave, continuing to observe the strange happenings below.

…

“He’s gone,” Boyang said helplessly to Bao Xincun.

“That’s why my suspicions aren’t unfounded,” Bao Xincun replied, lifting his head.

---

“Tell me honestly now, what are you really after?” Boyang stared intently at Bao Xincun.

“Master is only one step away from immortality, yet always falls short. Last year, I visited Lord Xu to seek advice for Master. Lord Xu told me that Master lacked a deed of merit. That’s why I thought of this. My intention was only to let the epidemic run its course, never to take lives! But I didn’t expect that the plague sorcerers from the southern border would appear as well. I regret it deeply,” Bao Xincun said with a bitter face.

“How could you be so foolish, Senior Brother? Master has never sought immortality. What can I say to you?” Boyang said, exasperated.

“Did Lord Xu take part in this?” Boyang pressed.

“No, but Lord Xu calculates fate with uncanny skill. He must have foreseen this, hence those words to Master,” Bao Xincun still looked troubled.

“When Master has dealt with those villains, you must tell him the truth,” Boyang said firmly.

“I know. But don’t let Xinyang find out. This is a family matter,” Bao Xincun said.

“At least you still care about appearances, Senior Brother… Fine. I understand—it’s also about Master’s reputation,” Boyang finally nodded.

“Thank you, Junior Brother,” Bao Xincun said, visibly relieved.

“When will Zhongxin return?” Boyang asked.

“He should be back soon,” Bao Xincun replied, unsure.

“There are still many waiting for treatment,” Boyang said, frowning at the ever-increasing number of patients being carried into the government office.

“I’ll go check the courtyard,” Boyang said, looking toward the back, where cries of pain echoed.

“Mm,” Bao Xincun nodded.

…

“So that’s how it is?” Hidden in the shadows, Chen Jin heard the true conversation between Bao Xincun and Boyang.

Now that he knew, he felt no urge to threaten them. Instead, a trace of disdain and discontent flickered in his heart.

With that, he silently withdrew. This time, he truly left.

…

Bao Xincun set down the patient’s arm, lifted his head, his gaze dark and brooding.

“Why go to all this trouble? Why not just send him to his death?” Boyang returned from the backyard as he spoke.

As he walked, Boyang’s appearance shifted and changed.

Finally, he took on Bao Xincun’s features.

---

“It’s a crucial moment—not the time for a deadly confrontation. Besides, I can use him as evidence,” Bao Xincun said.

“Oh? Then let’s begin,” the other Bao Xincun replied.

“All for the sake of immortality. Master, if you do not wish for it, then grant that wish to me. Do not blame me,” Bao Xincun muttered, his face clouded.

“Such hypocrisy,” the other Bao Xincun said with contempt.

Bao Xincun merely shot him a cold glance, then placed his hand on the other’s forehead.

He raised his other hand to rest on the forehead of a patient lying on a bed nearby.

This patient’s face, once Zhongxin’s, now slowly transformed into Bao Xincun’s own.

“Return, O soul, let the three spirits return, let the three corpses be formed…” Bao Xincun chanted under his breath.

The soldiers and physicians in the government office stared blankly as Bao Xincun recited his strange incantation.

With each word, their faces grew paler, until at last they collapsed to the ground.

The three Bao Xincuns gradually turned to shadows, then faded into nothingness.

A minute after their disappearance, hundreds of strange, multicolored lights gathered in the spot where they’d stood, finally coalescing into Bao Xincun’s solitary figure—this time, there was only one, not three.

“The Celestial Talisman—I still lack the Celestial Talisman,” Bao Xincun murmured.

“My junior brothers, now is the time for your final contribution,” he called softly toward the inner courtyard.

From within, Boyang and Zhongxin drifted out, floating before him.

Both had their eyes tightly shut, small wounds at their chests. Though the injuries were grave, neither seemed dead—their faces twitched with pain.

“Don’t worry, my brothers. Master will not let you die,” Bao Xincun said, his voice heavy with sorrow.

He raised his hand and thrust a finger into his own chest. His complexion shifted rapidly, from pale yellow to a sickly blue-green, as if poisoned.

“Heh… Master, you’re here…” Bao Xincun’s eyes widened in disbelief as he looked ahead.

Standing before him was Ge Hong, his face cold and grim.

…

[End of section]