Daoist Master, I'm really not an evil cultivator.

Chapter 39 The Prefect of Xiangzhou, the City God of the Underworld

Zhang Laosan's small courtyard, surrounded by a wooden fence, is not large, but it is kept tidy.

Old Zhang was squatting under the eaves, mending an old animal hide bow with a bone needle. A faint aroma of medicine wafted from the kitchen; his wife was brewing medicine.

Ever since Xu Changqing gave her the elixir, her daughter Zhang Xiao'e's complexion has improved day by day after taking it.

The couple felt grateful and hopeful, and their faces regained some vitality in the past few days.

Suddenly, footsteps could be heard outside the courtyard.

The sound was deep and orderly, like something stepping on the ground in unison, without a trace of disorder.

Zhang Laosan paused in his hand holding the bone needle. He looked up at the fence and his face turned pale.

A troop of soldiers stood silently outside the fence. Their armor gleamed with an eerie light, and their aura was chilling, unlike anything of this world.

The leader was named Li Yuan. He was not tall, had a pale complexion, and his helmet was pulled down low, obscuring his features.

When Li Yuan was alive, he was a captain in the Beixiang Army. He died in the chaos of war. After his death, he went through many twists and turns and relied on several connections to finally get a position as a captain of the ghost soldiers under the command of the City God of Qingyuan.

He was holding an ebony tray covered with a black cloth, and it was unclear what was inside.

Li Yuan was seething with anger. Damn it, the dead are more calculating than the living. This magistrate's son, so young yet already possessing cultivation and an official position, even his marriage was arranged by his father. It's just a pity for that family's daughter. People, after all, still need a good family background.

He recalled the days when he was alive, fighting for fame and fortune with every sword and spear, but now that he was dead, he had to go around bribing officials and currying favor with all sorts of underworld officials. The thought of it was utterly humiliating.

The chilling air seeped in through the fence, almost freezing Zhang Laosan's blood. His teeth chattered, and the animal-hide bow in his hand fell to the ground with a thud.

In the kitchen, the wife peeked out and, upon seeing the commotion outside, her legs went weak and she nearly collapsed. She covered her mouth tightly, forcefully suppressing a scream.

Li Yuan raised his hand and lifted the red silk covering the tray. Underneath the silk was a letter.

The post was painted in bright red, but the red was dark and dull, like blood that had been dried up for a long time.

The surface of the plaque is decorated with many twisted and complex patterns outlined in gold powder, resembling both talismans and characters, exuding an indescribable evil aura.

In the center of the post were two large characters: "Marriage Certificate".

Li Yuan held up the wedding invitation with both hands, his hoarse and cold voice ringing out.

"By order of the Prefect of Xiangzhou."

The voice paused for a moment, then continued.

"It is said that the Zhang family has a daughter named Xiao'e, who is sixteen years old, of virtuous character and appearance, and of extraordinary destiny. The Prefect is very pleased with her and has specially sought a match for his son."

Zhang Laosan's mind went blank. The Prefect of Xiangzhou? He was a hunter from the mountains, who had spent his whole life wandering the mountains. He had never heard of such a name before. But just from the title, and looking at these things that were clearly not living people, he knew that they were no benevolent beings, but a great terror.

"A special envoy was dispatched to present the marriage certificate, select an auspicious day, and welcome the new concubine into the Xiangzhou Prefecture, where she will enjoy endless longevity in the underworld."

The voice fell, word by word, like an icicle piercing my heart.

"No, no..." Zhang Laosan's wife couldn't hold on any longer and collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down her face.

Zhang Laosan trembled all over, wanting to rush forward, but his legs felt like lead and he couldn't move. He thought of his daughter, who was bedridden and had just recovered, and he also thought of Master Xuming on the mountain.

Like a drowning man grasping at a last straw, he mustered a sudden burst of strength and cried out hoarsely, "My daughter has already become a disciple of Master Xuming of Qingyang Temple; she is a cultivator! You cannot..."

"Um?"

Li Yuan slowly turned his head, his gaze falling on Zhang Laosan, the invisible pressure making Zhang Laosan almost suffocate.

"Xu Ming of Qingyang Temple..." Li Yuan sneered inwardly. Xu Ming, never heard of him, probably some Taoist priest from some wild mountain.

"How dare this mere hermit compete with the son of the Prefect?"

He ignored Zhang Laosan and, holding the dark red wedding invitation, stepped into the courtyard and headed straight for the door.

Inside the door, Zhang Xiao'e leaned against the doorframe, looking out. Her face was still pale from illness, but her eyes were bright and clear. She stared straight at the ghostly soldiers in the courtyard, neither dodging nor flinching.

Li Yuan looked at Zhang Xiao'e, a hint of amazement flashing in his eyes.

No wonder the old City God noticed something unusual about this woman the day before yesterday and began plotting to curry favor with the son of the Prefect. The memorial was submitted only a day before news arrived that the Prefect's son was already on his way.

This woman was indeed beautiful. Her face was so exquisitely beautiful that it seemed otherworldly. Her recent recovery from illness made her appear even more fragile, which only made her clear, bright eyes even more captivating. Even after years of working as a ghost messenger and seeing countless female ghosts and demons, he had to admit that this hunter's daughter certainly had the qualities to win the heart of the Lord's son.

Pity.

He sighed inwardly, but remained outwardly calm, simply pushing the marriage invitation forward: "Miss Zhang, please accept this invitation."

Zhang Xiao'e did not answer.

She stood there, leaning against the doorframe, on the inside of the threshold, quietly watching Li Yuan and the coldly armored ghost soldiers in the courtyard, her gaze unusually calm. After a long while, she spoke, her voice hoarse from recovering from illness, yet each word clear: "I will not marry."

Li Yuan frowned almost imperceptibly.

When Zhang Laosan and his wife heard their daughter speak, their hearts leaped into their throats. The wife rushed forward to pull her daughter away, but Zhang Xiao'e gently dodged her.

"Young lady," Li Yuan said patiently, lowering his voice slightly, "this is the will of the Prefect of Xiangzhou. The son of the Prefect—what a status he holds! It's a blessing that many people would rather die for. You, a hunter's daughter, should be content with such good fortune."

"I won't marry him," Zhang Xiao'e repeated.

Li Yuan's face darkened.

The ghostly soldiers behind him took a step forward in unison, their armor clashing with a dull thud. The temperature in the courtyard dropped a few degrees, and even the animal hides drying in the corner of the house were covered with a thin layer of white frost.

"Miss Zhang, don't refuse a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit." Li Yuan's voice turned cold. "If you accept this marriage invitation, everything will be fine. If you don't..."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the trembling Zhang Laosan and his wife in the courtyard before returning to Zhang Xiao'e's face. He slowly said, "If the Prefect wants people, all he needs is a soul-summoning ticket. Your parents probably won't live past tomorrow."

A flicker of emotion finally appeared in Zhang Xiao'e's eyes.

She looked at her mother kneeling on the ground, tears streaming down her face, and then at her father, whose face was ashen and who was trembling all over. Her lips moved, but she ultimately did not say anything.

Seeing this, Li Yuan felt somewhat relieved and placed the wedding invitation on the blue bricks inside the threshold. The dark red background, with its gold-painted patterns, gleamed with a cold light in the afternoon shadows.

Zhang Xiao'e didn't look at the invitation. Her gaze passed over Li Yuan, over the menacingly armored soldiers in the courtyard, and landed on the distant, dark blue-green outline of the mountains.

Qingyang Temple is nestled deep in the clouds and mist, with no eaves visible through layers of mountains.

Seeing that she remained silent, Li Yuan assumed she had resigned herself to her fate. He withdrew his hand, took a half-step back, and announced loudly, "On the eleventh of April, send a sedan chair to fetch you. Miss Xiao'e, make the preparations well."

After he finished speaking, he turned and left.

The ghostly soldiers turned around in unison, and the eerie chill slowly dissipated as they left. However, the temperature in the courtyard did not immediately rise, as if something remained in the air, lingering for a long time.

"Father, let's go to Qingyang Temple," Zhang Xiao'e said softly.

......