I raised a hand to cover my face. "It wasn't me. Don't go spreading rumors."

"Impossible! I remember clearly—it was definitely you!"

Uncle De stepped forward, shielding me behind him. "Benefactor Li, it's only natural my young Daoist friend feels a connection with you. But shall we attend to the main matter now?"

"Oh, right," Li Guanggui murmured, as if waking from a dream. "Please come in, Master."

He stepped aside to let us in. Uncle De turned, gripped my shoulders, and tried to pull me out.

"Ow, ow, ow!"

This baby stroller was easy to get into but hard to escape—it’s built to keep kids securely strapped in.

Uncle De let go with a sigh. "No choice. Just stay put for now. Once you regain strength, you’ll figure it out."

I waved weakly. "Fine. I’ll manage later."

Uncle De moved behind the stroller and pushed me toward the house—under Li Guanggui and his wife’s stunned stares.

"Make way, please. Benefactor Li, don’t block the path. Madam Benefactor, could you shift these slippers? Thank you. A good deed a day brings its own reward."

"...Moving slippers counts as a good deed?"

"It does."

The doorway was narrow. Uncle De maneuvered left and right, somehow squeezing the stroller inside.

Though small at the entrance, the home was comfortably off: three bedrooms, one living room, with a notably spacious hall. My stroller settled in the corner. Uncle De strode to the center.

"Please wait nearby, both Benefactors."

He faced the window, sleeves raised in solemn grace—radiating cosmic mastery, as if heaven, earth, and Dao flowed through him.

Then he froze. Motionless for several seconds.

"What’s wrong with the master?" Li Guanggui whispered.

"I don’t know… hope he’s alright," his wife murmured back.

After all they’d witnessed—the hospital chaos—her earlier skepticism had softened into cautious belief.

Watching his ethereal posture with just a hint of stiffness, I finally got it. Mustering strength, I cupped a hand to my mouth like a megaphone:

"Uncle De… you left your magical artifact downstairs."

My voice was faint, muffled by my palm—but the room was silent. They heard.

An awkward hush settled over the living room.

"Ahem. No matter. Just a sword," Uncle De recovered instantly, voice booming with veteran ease. "When the sword lives in your heart, does it matter if your hands hold none?"

He swept his sleeve. Golden sparks showered the air. The Lis gasped.

"Amazing! A true master!"

"'Hands hold no sword'—listen to that wisdom!"

I tugged the corner of my mouth. Said nothing.

"Before the Three Pure Ones above, beneath heaven and earth—human and ghost grievances defy words. Today, I sever yin and yang…"

He chanted the clearly improvised verse, sleeves swirling, conjuring effects across the room: golden radiance, ink-wash strokes in midair, a spinning taiji symbol.

Honestly? Visually stunning. The couple’s awestruck faces said it all—they were completely taken in.

"Heavens, so powerful! Master must be among the world’s top cultivators!"

"With Master’s help, we’re safe now."

Even his wife began using the honorific "Master."

Amid cheers and cries of "666," Uncle De gave one final flourish. A wisp of black smoke curled upward.

"Done. The vengeful spirit’s link to Benefactor Li is severed. All is well."

He stood hands clasped behind his back—proud, still, the very image of Daoist grace.

But Li Guanggui was sharp. He caught the cue.

"Master’s power is unmatched. Our family rests easy now. Here’s the balance—WeChat Pay or Alipay?"

"Either is fine."

They insisted we stay for dinner. I declined firmly; Uncle De, politely. They escorted us to the compound gate, watching the "almighty Grand Master Zhengde" push the stroller away.

Recalling the past hour’s absurdity, I shook my head. "Uncle De… there’s something I’ve wanted to say."

"What matter… what is it?" He hadn’t fully dropped the act.

"‘Benefactor’… that’s what Buddhist monks call laypeople, right? Not Taoist priests…"

"…Doesn’t matter. As long as they believe."

Uncle De glanced leisurely at the transfer alert. The fee was modest—four digits, about what Li spent on bandages and hospital bills.

"Your effects were actually pretty cool," I offered, half-sincere.

"Right? Simple too. Materials like holy water. Easy to make. Want to learn?"

I shook my head hard. "Nah. Why would I?"

Honestly? My Bloodstrike Assault’s Bloodwings rival any spectacle—and pack real power to boot.