"We are special police, Mr. An. You should have a painting in your house. That thing is a demon and will be bad for you. Please cooperate with us and take out the painting."

"What demon?"

"You're police? What, does having an ID allow you to rob people for no reason? To kidnap people?"

"No, we have evidence that it will harm you."

"Get out, are you going to leave?!"

The elderly man glared, picked up the broom beside him, and started hitting the plainclothes young men, including Zhu Hongmiao. He sent the Daoist to the hospital and then immediately went on a field mission, but now he had no one to tell his troubles to.

Firstly, they didn't dare to use force against the old man, and secondly, they were afraid of causing a big commotion and scaring away the evil spirit. So, even the cultivators who had a bit of cultivation were swept out of the house by the old man with a broom.

They looked at each other, faces full of embarrassment.

Zhu Hongmiao said, "The evil spirit is still inside. Let's spread out and surround the area to prevent it from acting rashly. Take out the talismans. If there's any change in the demonic aura, we'll rush in directly."

He felt a burst of anger.

It wasn't yet the stage of universal popularization. They had to sign agreements after practicing the basic cultivation methods, keep secrets, and try to prevent the impact of this matter from expanding, so as to avoid unnecessary troubles during the transition from a normal society to a society of universal compulsory cultivation, and slow down the overall progress.

Zhu Hongmiao rubbed the spot where the old man had hit him with the broom, grimaced, waved his hand, and said:

"Spread out."

………………

An Xuyang chased Zhu Hongmiao and the others out.

He put the broom down, panting.

When he turned around, he saw his wife in red. The old man subconsciously hid the broom behind him and explained with a smile, "Some young people came in, got the wrong place."

The immortal in the painting hummed in response.

An Xuyang walked over, took his wife's hand, and said, "Let's go, let's go inside."

"Our son is so busy with work, but he still took the time to clean up the old house, just to celebrate a lively birthday. It's not appropriate for us to stay outside. Come on, let's go in and play with little Rongrong."

The immortal in the painting followed him into the house.

This was an old house.

It was the old An family home.

An Xuyang lived here when he was young, for most of his life, before moving out later.

Today was his sixtieth birthday, and his son An Shengming insisted on holding a big celebration. Many old friends came too, bringing gifts. They weren't anything valuable, but they were at least a token of their good intentions. Several tables of food and wine were set up in the yard, with An Shengming personally cooking.

An Xuyang's second son made a list of the things the relatives and friends had brought.

It wasn't about comparing anything, just remembering this friendship, so they wouldn't forget.

An Xuyang changed into a slightly more formal stand-up collar shirt, and the immortal in the painting also transformed into an old woman using an illusion. According to the customs of his hometown, sixtieth and seventieth birthdays had to be celebrated properly. There had to be a fire pit to step over to burn away unclean things, and ancestors had to be sacrificed to. When they reached eighty or ninety, they would have a 'forgotten birthday', meaning that when you get old, increasing your age is not a good thing.

Sometimes when people reach a certain age, they feel like they're about to die.

Forgetting how old they are allows the elderly to live longer and healthier. This can be considered a rare form of wisdom.

When the old man was tidying up, he saw the ancient painting. The scroll itself was already yellowed, and the red-clothed woman in the painting had delicate features, with a smile on her rosy lips.

An Xuyang stroked the painting and discussed with his wife beside him:

"It's not good to keep it pressed down all the time."

"Why don't we hang this painting up today?"

The immortal in the painting blushed, glared at him, and said:

"Our son and grandson are here today. If you hang the painting up, aren't you embarrassing me?"

An Xuyang smiled awkwardly, and then suddenly remembered the policemen from earlier, so he said, "That's right, you should keep this painting safe, hide it well, hide it carefully, and don't let others see it."

He directly handed the painting to the immortal in the painting, and then, his no-longer-as-strong-as-before palm patted the immortal's hand, and he smiled and said, "An Xuyang doesn't regret marrying you in this lifetime."

The immortal in the painting said, "Why are you saying this?"

An Xuyang laughed heartily, turned around, and walked out the door.

An Shengming served the dishes, homemade, with simple dishes of various colors, not as fancy as in restaurants, but the ingredients were real, the portions were large, and the flavors were strong. Everyone laughed and talked loudly, while the younger generation chatted among themselves, a scene of harmony and joy.

Zhu Hongmiao squatted outside, biting into an egg pancake fiercely.

He had already requested reinforcements from the action team.

They couldn't control the evil spirit, they couldn't negotiate softly, and they couldn't use force.

But the action team naturally had experts.

Turning his head, he saw an unexpected figure.

"Curator Wei?"

……………………

Wei Yuan said earlier that orthodox gods look down on illusions.

That wasn't false.

But he wasn't a god.

The means of using deceptive illusions were still very useful.

He just used a hand seal, and he easily walked into the house. Old and young in the courtyard, not a single person noticed him. Wei Yuan believed that the immortal in the painting he had seen before was kind, but in ancient times, the avenging painted skin begged Wohu for some time, saying that she only hoped to provide for her parents in their old age. At that time, the painted skin was also sincere.

That kind and wealthy young lady ultimately failed to resist the bloodthirsty nature of the demon.

Leaving behind the lives of hundreds of people.

What about the immortal in the painting?

Wei Yuan walked into the courtyard, quietly sat at a table, there was an unused wine glass on the table, casually poured himself a glass of wine, and took a sip. Now the banquet was in full swing, and after the banquet, there would be ancestor worship. An Xuyang held his breath and stepped over the fire pit.

The children didn't understand, but they felt it was lively and clapped and laughed.

An Shengming grabbed candy and distributed it to them, asking the children to say nice things.

Wei Yuan raised his eyes and swept across the courtyard, the bustling noise, the old woman, or rather the immortal in the painting, holding the ancient painting in her arms that Zhang Hao had said had been tampered with, the exposed end of the red dress was shockingly bright.

Wei Yuan recalled the lessons of the painted skin demon.

It was her turn to jump over the fire pit.

An Xuyang turned his head and chatted with his friends with a smile.

Suddenly,

The woman in red stepped over the fire, the old woman made by the illusion also stepped over the fire pit easily, but the painting in the hand of the immortal in the painting was thrown into the fire pit, and it was lit in a flash. An Xuyang suddenly turned his head and saw the flames licking, the paper that was already brittle and yellowed was burned at once, as if he couldn't believe it. He was stunned instinctively for a moment.

Then suddenly, as if he had returned to his teenage years, he struggled violently, pushing away the people around him.

He ran over in a few big steps, bent down, stretched out his hand, and ignoring the burning flames, reached into the raging fire pit to grab the ancient painting. An Shengming and the others were shocked. There were also combustibles poured into the fire. This would burn the skin off his hands. They quickly pulled the old man back.

But no one knew how the old man, who was already sixty years old, could have so much strength.

Like a mad cow, several people couldn't hold him back.

An Shengming pulled with difficulty and quickly shouted at the still-existing illusion old woman:

"Mom, quickly persuade Dad, what madness is he suddenly having."

Everyone knew that An Xuyang always listened to his wife, and they all turned their heads to look at the old woman.

An Xuyang's eyes widened, tears flowing redly, but he just stared at the fire pit.

The woman in red stood in the flames, looked at him, but didn't say anything, smiled slightly, and then disappeared, leaving only large swaths of ashes after the painting was burned, falling down with the licking of the flames.

An Xuyang stretched out his hand, and the golden-red ashes burned by the flames fell into his palm.

The old man lost his strength, was pulled away by his children and grandchildren, but suddenly howled.

The young people who were finally able to hold the old man showed smiles, the children held colorful candies with blank faces, and still had the happiness from just now remaining on their faces, only An Xuyang sat alone on the ground, howling at the fire pit.

Wei Yuan was silent, then smiled self-deprecatingly.

He just thought that the immortal in the painting might still be able to restrain herself, or turn into a demon. If she could still restrain herself, he would take her back to Longhu Mountain, and if she turned into a demon, he would have to take action, draw his sword, and slay the demon, but he didn't expect a third possibility.

The immortal in the painting discovered her own mutation, and would rather destroy herself, completely cutting off the possibility of her becoming a demon and harming people.

He gently put the cup in his hand on the table.

The illusion spread out with himself as the center, everyone fell into the illusion, only An Xuyang himself was still awake. He subconsciously raised his head and saw the museum curator in black clothes, with a slightly pale and weak complexion, and sharp eyebrows, but only remaining grief. His eyes were scattered, and he couldn't speak.

Wei Yuan stepped through the courtyard, looking at the ancient painting that had been burned.

He said, "Indeed, since she was the spirituality born from the painting, she would naturally know that the ancient painting had been tampered with."

Looking at the tearful An Xuyang, Wei Yuan sighed secretly, his five fingers spread slightly, his eyes narrowed, and the spells on the *Taiping Yao Shu* moved with his heart. He drew a talisman with his fingers on the cup of wine, and then just guided it, and the wine turned into a white dragon, falling into the fire pit. The souls that had naturally dissipated before, and had not yet returned to heaven and earth, were summoned out.

It turned into a woman in red again, but her body was erratic and had no sense of reality.

She looked at her hand in disbelief, looked at An Xuyang, everything was like a dream.

She then looked at Wei Yuan and said, "You are…"

Wei Yuan opened his mouth and said, "This is just a soul-summoning Daoist technique. You were originally a spirit born from an ancient painting, residing on the painting. Now the painting that entrusted your soul has dissipated, but I have another compromise method here, which I need to ask you two about."

An Xuyang stared at Wei Yuan, his face full of pleading.

Wei Yuan looked at the immortal in the painting and An Xuyang, first looking at the immortal in the painting, and asked:

"Are you willing to give up the long life of spirituality and grow old and die with him?"

"From now on, you will give up your foundation and be just an ordinary mortal, who will get sick, be sleepy, and be hungry, and be tired."

The immortal in the painting nodded and agreed without hesitation:

"Of course."

Wei Yuan smiled and looked at An Xuyang again, and asked, "Then, Old An, I see that you are in good health, and I estimate that you can live to be eighty years old. If you let the spirit of the immortal in the painting connect with your soul, I am afraid that you will only have ten years of life at most. Are you willing to give up ten years of your life and grow old and die with her?"

An Xuyang nodded heavily, almost afraid that this was a dream.

Wei Yuan looked at the one person and one spirit, raised his hand to create a talisman, consuming the foundation of the immortal in the painting, and consuming the lifespan of An Xuyang. The talisman was slowly completed, and with a flick of his sleeve, it was divided into two and flew into the space between An Xuyang and the immortal in the painting's eyebrows. An Xuyang only felt slightly weakened, and then, the woman in red lost her decades of ageless appearance, wrinkles appeared on her face, her black hair turned gray, and she stood next to An Xuyang, without any sense of disharmony.

Wei Yuan retracted his fingers.

The immortal in the painting's heart surged, and she was stunned by this method that almost violated life and death.

She plucked up her courage and asked, "Aren't you Daoists here to slay demons and eliminate evil?"

The young museum curator was surprised, and then smiled warmly:

"This is also, slaying demons, eliminating evil."

He said: "The last time I left, I said I wish you two a happy golden wedding anniversary. I remembered the time wrongly. There are still ten years left, so let's just say that I'm wishing you in advance."

He turned and left as An Xuyang firmly grasped the hand of the immortal in the painting.

When he stepped out of the courtyard, he saw the book recording the gifts. A sense of the unseen made Wei Yuan pause slightly. He pondered for a moment, then picked up a pen and, following the excitement in his heart and responding to the traces of heaven and earth, added a sentence at the end, as if he had completed the last stroke when drawing a talisman, and the aura was smooth.

So this also counts as a talisman.

Wei Yuan seemed to have realized something, and also knew that this was not just a talisman, but also a prophecy that came true.

He looked at what he had written and turned away.

The illusion suddenly dissipated when he walked out of the courtyard. An Xuyang turned his head and saw that the old woman who was originally an illusion was still standing there, real and not false. He stood up abruptly, ran over in a few steps, and was at a loss for words. The old woman reached out and patted the soil on his clothes, her eyes slightly red, and said softly:

"It's just a painting, why are you in such a hurry."

"Yes, yes, it's just a painting."

At this time, a child holding candy looked down and saw a line of text on the book recording the gifts in a tone as plain as a description—'Fifteen years of marriage, Wei Yuan of Quanzhou’

He blinked, and that line of text disappeared strangely again, as if it was just his illusion.

Wei Yuan walked out step by step, behind him were sobs of joy and repressed past pressures and worries.

There are true monks who have said that they want to save all sentient beings.

But there is not a single sentient being that can be saved.

It is sentient beings who save themselves.

Fifteen years of shared life, ultimately dying together.

On the banks of the Wangchuan River, may we rest together; in the mud, may our hair be entangled together.

………………

In the distant mountains, in places far away from the human world, ferocious beasts that only existed in past years roared earth-shatteringly, mythical beasts swept across the sky, and winged tigers hissed and roared in a low voice.

Wu Yu, who was sitting quietly, opened his eyes. He put on the shaman's clothes.

He took out the solemn, strange, yet sacred bronze mask.

The ceremony is about to begin.

ps: The second update today... four thousand words.

Everyone eat *zongzi* during the Dragon Boat Festival~