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

Chapter 91 Inside the Great Demon's Belly

Inside a side hall.

The hall is spacious and deep. The clay and painted statues of the gods and generals that were originally enshrined are still arranged on both sides, some holding whips and maces, others carrying pagodas and wielding swords. Although the colors are mottled and the gold paint is peeling off, their appearances are still solemn.

But no one noticed that the eyes of those clay sculptures were now gleaming with a faint, dark light, all watching the several figures locked in a chaotic battle within the hall.

The two sides fighting were originally fellow disciples, but both had bloodshot eyes, wild auras, and ruthless attacks, all fighting with their lives on the line, as if they had an irreconcilable blood feud.

There was also a middle-aged couple of cultivators, the husband wielding a Wu hook and the wife using two water-splitting daggers. They were originally an enviable "Qingfu Couple" in the martial arts world, but now every move they made was deadly.

The wife stabbed her husband in the ribs, tears streaming down her face but her smile was ferocious: "My husband! You said that if we had the opportunity, we would retire together, so why did you swallow that bottle of Yellow Crane Dew Pill all by yourself?"

The husband, Wu Gou, gripped the water-splitting thorn, his tiger's mouth splitting open, his eyes blazing with fury: "You vile woman, it was clearly you who were flirting with that Jade-Faced Fox, trying to kill me! That elixir was something I risked my life for."

The bond between husband and wife, under the influence of distorted suspicion and greed, is as thin as a cicada's wing, easily punctured.

In the corner, there was even a father and son.

The old man, his hair white as snow, held a peach wood staff and pointed it tremblingly at the young man opposite him: "You unfilial son! I raised you with great difficulty, taught you the Dao, and you actually want to kill your father for a single 'Purple Sun Weapon Refining Method'?!"

The young man, with a handsome face twisted like a demon, brandished a bloodstained dagger and laughed maniacally, "Old man! You never pass on your trump cards, are you saving them for your grave? The legacy of Ziyang Temple is right before me. Kill you, and I'll have no more regrets, and the Great Dao will be within my grasp!"

Filial piety and ethical principles are transformed into the naked law of the jungle at this moment.

Their incoherent babbling mingled into a frantic tirade: "It's mine! The opportunity is mine!"

"Kill you, and everything will be mine!" "The road to immortality is paved with corpses! Today I will climb over your bones!"

"Father, don't blame me. The Taoist scriptures say, 'Heaven and Earth are ruthless,' and today I will do this ruthless thing!"

However, no matter how fierce the battle was, the gods and generals simply watched quietly, their eyes flashing with an eerie light, as if they were watching a series of dramas.

In the shadows of a corner of the hall, wisps of almost imperceptible pale gray mist slowly seeped out from the gaps between the statues of the gods, silently seeping into the seven orifices of the two sides locked in fierce combat.

With each drop of blood seeping in, the crimson in their eyes intensified, and their madness grew stronger.

Unbeknownst to anyone, they had become sacrifices to this eerie temple.

......

Xu Changqing stood in the dilapidated corridor of the Taoist temple, his brows furrowed slightly. The direction in which Long Qishier had fled was clearly just ahead, but now, looking around, there was no trace of him at all.

"Huh? It's clearly in the same direction, so why can't I see it?" he muttered to himself. "Looks like something's causing trouble in the temple?"

With a thought, a purple light subtly shifted in his eyes, and the Qi-observation ability of the "Purple Star Annotation of Death Scripture" was quietly activated. The scene before him instantly changed.

What appeared to be ordinary mist had transformed into wisps of thick, black, demonic mist, almost like living things, silently seeping into the air and even attempting to penetrate his mouth, nose, and pores.

A faint, ethereal light was quietly circulating around him, keeping the demonic mist at bay.

Xu Changqing looked down and discovered that the source of the halo was the [Pure and Benevolent Spirit Pearl] in his sleeve.

"May the Heavenly Venerable grant me boundless blessings. It's fortunate that this treasure protects me, otherwise I, this Daoist, would have fallen into the same trap and unknowingly become like those wicked Daoists." Xu Changqing thought to himself with relief, his gaze following the direction of the flowing demonic mist as he looked around.

Upon seeing this, my heart skipped a beat.

What bricks and stones were there? Under the purple light, the mottled walls and dilapidated beams revealed dark red, writhing fleshy textures.

The walls were covered with dark scabs resembling dried blood plasma, with faint pulsations visible, and wisps of demonic mist seeping from the cracks in these fleshy walls.

The entire corridor, like the intestines of some giant beast, meandered forward, exuding a strange smell that was cold, sweet, and rotten.

He carefully took a few steps forward and approached the fleshy wall to examine it closely. He saw a protrusion on the wall, from which he could vaguely make out half of a body embedded.

It was the same honey badger from before. Now, most of its body had been swallowed by the flesh wall, with only one arm and half of its head sticking out. Its skin and flesh had grown together with the wall. Its eyes were wide open, but they had no spirit. Only black scriptures were slowly wriggling under its skin.

"Good heavens," Xu Changqing gasped, feeling a chill run down his spine. "Could this Ziyang Temple actually be alive? Are all these halls, corridors, and walls made from the entrails and flesh of that giant creature?"

The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed. Looking up, the towering palace roof loomed in the demonic mist, like the dome of a giant beast.

The faint sound of wind coming from afar was like slow breathing.

The slight tremor beneath my feet felt like a heartbeat…

At this moment, am I not walking inside the belly of a ferocious demon that has already opened its huge mouth and is waiting for its prey to walk into its trap?

He looked back, but the path he had come from was now obscured by an impenetrable demonic mist. His divine sense probed into it as if it were a mud ox sinking into the sea, and his vision could not reach beyond three zhang.

"Good heavens, are they not letting me leave? They've lured me into a trap, then caught me like a turtle in a jar. Have I just delivered myself into their trap?"

His heart sank slightly. He immediately tried to communicate with the underworld. Although the connection with Su'e was slightly hindered by the demonic energy of this place, it was not severed.

"It's alright." Xu Changqing breathed a slight sigh of relief. The fact that the passage to the underworld was not closed was their greatest advantage. If all else failed, they could still use Su'e's power to escape into the underworld.

Composing himself, he looked into the depths of the corridor. The demonic mist surged like a tide, and the fleshy walls writhed slightly, as if urging him to move forward.

"Since we're here, we might as well make the best of it. We can't just leave empty-handed." Xu Changqing patted the bulging pouch at his waist. "Besides, I haven't gotten my hands on the [Demon Pearl] yet. That thing is crucial to my Foundation Establishment, so I have to make the trip no matter what."

"As the saying goes, 'Misfortune and fortune have no fixed gate; they are summoned by oneself.'" Xu Changqing straightened his robes, and his face regained its carefree smile. "Today, I, the Daoist, will venture into this den of dragons and tigers and see what kind of demons and monsters dare to set up this 'ambush from all sides' formation."

The phantom of the blood lotus appeared and disappeared beneath his feet, and his figure swayed forward.

The corridor was deep and dark, and the fog ahead was even thicker. Occasionally, rustling whispers could be heard, like weeping and lamenting, or like countless people murmuring broken scriptures in one's ear.

On the fleshy walls on both sides, the figures that had been mostly devoured seemed to come alive, their empty eye sockets all turning towards the direction Xu Changqing was walking.