Which Mr. Huang are you referring to?

Although Chen Huangpi had shed his old skin and his appearance changed, growing tall and imposing, compared to the mutated divine statue towering dozens of yards high, he was still nothing more than a speck. Thus, under the gaze of the ferocious evil god, the ferocious evil spirit froze in place, unable to move.

"I've become like this—surely it won't recognize me?" Chen Huangpi thought. He had changed his skin, donned a conical hat even Huang Er couldn't see through; even his master would struggle to recognize him now. Surely the mutated statue should fail to do so as well.

As if sensing his thoughts, the brass oil lamp whispered, "Logically, it shouldn't be able to recognize you, but the black smoke you carry is unique. It was polluted by you—who can say for certain?"

"Nonsense! I'm a good evil spirit, I wouldn't pollute it!" Chen Huangpi felt his heart leap into his throat. The mutated statue had been the last deity worshipped at the Pure Immortal Temple, but it had perhaps, maybe, possibly, for some reason, become tainted—certainly not by him. He had only stolen its offerings from time to time, nothing more. Otherwise, he hardly came into contact with it. It shouldn't bear him a grudge; if anything, his master was to blame, for driving it out lest a fourth man-eating creature appear in the temple. Later, it returned, pleading that it was too cold outside, not as warm as the temple, begging him to let it back in. Had his master allowed it, Chen Huangpi would have agreed. He was, after all, a good evil spirit. It must not confuse right and wrong!

Big-Headed Evil Spirit looked at the frozen Chen Huangpi and the mutated statue, thoroughly confused. Some evil spirits are born clever, able to speak human words, far more intelligent and ruthless than men; others remain like uncivilized savages, able to see but unable to comprehend.

"Ferocious evil spirit, ferocious evil god, you are both fierce—please come with me," Big-Headed Evil Spirit said, its single eye opening and closing, its thin limbs crawling along the ground, seemingly leading them to a place only the ferocious may enter.

Seeing this, Chen Huangpi wasted no time and followed. Behind him, heavy booming footsteps resounded—the mutated divine statue pressed close, every step shaking the ground like a dragon turning beneath the earth.

Creak, creak...

The gaping maw on its chest resumed chewing the still-breathing deity, devouring its essence to repair itself.

Earlier, Chen Huangpi had not explored much of the evil spirits’ morning market. Now, led by Big-Headed Evil Spirit, they advanced as it shouted, "Ferocious evil spirit, ferocious evil god have arrived!" All evil spirits and evil gods scrambled to avoid them, none daring to block their path.

In truth, there's little distinction between evil spirits and evil gods: one born from the mountains, the other mutated from tainted deities—both are essentially evil spirits. Yet, thanks to Big-Headed Evil Spirit's announcement, all evil spirits knew Chen Huangpi devoured their kind, and all evil gods knew the mutated statue consumed deities. Both were excessively ferocious.

Soon, Big-Headed Evil Spirit led Chen Huangpi and the mutated statue to their destination: a massive stage. Its foundation alone spanned several hundred meters, with a canopy overhead and curtains drawn at either side, suggesting the performance had yet to begin.

Seeing this, Chen Huangpi couldn't help but say, "Big-Headed Evil Spirit, I don't mind watching the show, but let me be clear—I won't pay you any money."

Big-Headed Evil Spirit was stunned, struggling to grasp his meaning, its mind lagging behind. After a long pause, it managed to reply, "Master Huang said all evil spirits may watch. He likes lively crowds."

"Which Master Huang?" Chen Huangpi grew curious—was there an evil spirit surnamed Huang?

Big-Headed Evil Spirit answered awkwardly, "Master Huang... just Master Huang, the new Master Huang."

Since it couldn't explain further, Chen Huangpi did not press the matter, knowing he would see soon enough.

He wasn't in a hurry.

"Could it be Huang Yi?" The brass oil lamp chimed in unexpectedly.

Chen Huangpi replied, "Huang Yi should still be hanging in the Flying Immortal Painting, definitely not him."

"A pity," the brass oil lamp murmured, its feelings toward Huang Yi deeply conflicted—worried his brother might fare badly, yet also afraid he might fare too well. It was just a passing remark, though. If Huang Yi had truly become an evil spirit, there would have been a great uproar in the ten-thousand mountains by now.

At that moment, some evil spirits approached, seemingly to watch the show as well. Among them was the slender, tattered black-robed good evil spirit. Chen Huangpi spotted it at once, waving in greeting. The spirit hesitated, then awkwardly mimicked his gesture, raising a hand and waving.

Those evil spirits who had traded stones for Chen Huangpi's black smoke also tried to imitate the greeting; even those without limbs extended their tongues and flicked them in acknowledgment.

Chen Huangpi felt tempted to join them—he loved the bustle, enjoyed being among familiar evil spirits. But as he approached, Big-Headed Evil Spirit blocked him.

"Ferocious evil spirit must take the place of honor!"

It pointed to the front row, a wide empty space. Evil spirits watched differently from mortals, their forms unique—some lacked even a form—so seating was unnecessary. They simply stood wherever space allowed.

Chen Huangpi took his place at the very front, the mutated divine statue following, its massive body settling cross-legged with a loud boom. Its presence, still chewing the living deity with terrifying crunches, was so dreadful that no evil spirit dared approach too closely.

Chen Huangpi was no exception. He found himself a decent spot, sitting cross-legged, with those he knew behind him.

"Once the show ends, we'll slip away amid the confusion," Chen Huangpi thought, "Should trouble arise, I won't hesitate to have Huang Er use the Divine Light of Escape to take me home."

His thoughts aligned perfectly with the brass oil lamp, which said, "My lamp oil is replenished, the wick thicker—I can use the Divine Light of Escape three times, but only once we're outside."

This cavern felt like a mirage: seemingly real, yet as illusory as a dream. Here, its light couldn't penetrate; without leaving, the Divine Light would only swirl within.

With the brass oil lamp as his fallback, Chen Huangpi felt confident. He glanced at the mutated statue, certain his conical hat would shield him from recognition, but what he saw startled him. Though the statue sat cross-legged, its hands hung down, palms facing him, each bearing a wicked vertical eye, staring at Chen Huangpi from the start.

It was truly a four-eyed confrontation.

He quickly turned his head, pretending not to notice. He realized the mutated statue had already recognized him, though for some reason, it hadn't acted immediately upon meeting.

"I've grown stronger," Chen Huangpi told himself. "I needn't fear it. With Huang Er and A-Gui, the three of us can surely best a single genius, can't we?"

The brass oil lamp agreed, "Precisely. You've grown stronger, I've grown stronger, A-Gui has grown stronger. Together, we're like a sky full of stars—why fear it? Once we're out, strike first, strike hard!"

"Right. Last time, it chased us so miserably."

"Hey, A-Gui, why aren't you saying anything?"

The Death-Seeking Ghost replied softly, "Because I sense the aura of Yellow Springs earth. Master Huang is coming."

At those words, the brass oil lamp's heart suddenly raced with alarm. In the next moment, it cried out, "It's over—it's him!"

Hearing this, Chen Huangpi instinctively looked behind him. Then, he saw Master Huang.

It was a long procession: leading the way was a girl of about eight or nine, followed by villagers carrying a wooden temple on their shoulders. These were the people of Fox Huang Village, devoured and polluted by the Yellow Disaster.

Big-Headed Evil Spirit shouted, "Master Huang arrives! Master Huang, please take the place of honor!"

The villagers carried the temple and their deity to the front row. Everywhere they passed, evil spirits shrank from their touch.

Chen Huangpi could hardly believe it. "It's the Yellow-Furred Mountain God—it survived and became the Yellow Disaster?"

"A mutated divine statue, a Yellow Disaster! Both tied to you," the brass oil lamp groaned, "I see it clearly now, Chen Huangpi, you're cursed!"

Fox Mountain God had explained before in detail: the white-robed elder pried open the Yellow Disaster's skull, drank its brain, then bit off most of its body, but found the earthy taste too strong, so he discarded it. The brass oil lamp had assumed that since the temple master intervened, the Yellow Disaster must be dead beyond resurrection. Yet, unexpectedly, it still lived. The gods, on the other hand, one by one, had perished beyond hope.

Looking again at the mutated statue, the brass oil lamp noticed with terror that the great hole in its head bore faint bite marks.

"Master, look—are the bite marks on its head the same as mine?"

The marks on the lamp, of course, were left by the temple master.

Chen Huangpi glanced once and immediately recognized them. "Those are indeed master's tooth marks. So it was him who drove it away!"

"Has the temple master truly gone mad?" the brass oil lamp suddenly wondered.

Chen Huangpi asked, "Huang Er, why do you say that?"

"I've read so many medical texts, so widely—how could I fail to see whether master is mad? If not, am I not a quack?"

But the brass oil lamp did not reply. No more words came, only an inexplicable, unspeakable dread.

If the temple master were mad, he should kill indiscriminately, eat whatever he wished. Yet, thinking carefully, it seemed that since his madness, he had never killed any evil spirit. Even the previous contract holder of the Soul-Chasing Register, who came to Pure Immortal Temple seeking Chen Huangpi's life, was swallowed only because he trespassed.

All later evil spirits—the Yellow Disaster, the mutated statue—though their fates were miserable, worse than death, they still lived. Only the gods, the temple master never spared; even the Fox Mountain God, tied to Pure Immortal Temple, was merely kept as livestock.

The more the brass oil lamp thought, the more frightened it became, a creeping sense that the temple master was always watching.

Fortunately, at that moment, the villagers carrying the temple reached the front and halted. The temple door remained closed. The leading girl conveyed the Yellow Disaster's decree, singing loudly, "By command of the mountain god: after the show, blessings and rewards will be granted to you all. Hurry and begin the performance!"