Charles Bolton was originally afraid that the two would cause trouble and implicate him, so he gave them a warning in advance. Unexpectedly, he gained an unexpected benefit. He weighed the copper coins in his hand—though not many, the flattery was quite pleasing to him. He casually slipped them into his pocket, the coins jingling pleasantly, making him feel delighted. After thinking for a moment, he decided to carefully explain to the two of them the cause and effect of the young master's possession, as a way of repaying the favor for those dozen or so copper coins. In the end, he repeatedly reminded them, “My master is easy to talk to, but the lady is rather strict. You two must make sure to approach the right person.”

“Of course! Of course!” Arthur Coleman replied hastily. Making a living like this, how could he not see through such things?

Chapter Two: The Daoist Who Cheats for Food and Drink (Part Two)

“Boundless Buddha! This poor Daoist is the junior brother of Sun Zengsheng from Mount Qingcheng, Daoist name Arthur Coleman, greetings to Mr. Bolton!” Arthur Coleman pressed his palms together in greeting. Having roamed the world for many years, he would say whatever suited the occasion—talking about ghosts to those who believed in ghosts, and speaking plainly to others. When visiting the homes of high officials and nobles, he would claim to be a disciple of Zhang Wanfu or Shi Chongxuan. But in the eyes of common folk like Mr. Bolton, Immortal Sun was famous for catching ghosts and subduing demons, far more renowned than Shi Chongxuan, who wrote Daoist classics.

“By my senior brother’s order, I have come out to seek a few immortal herbs. I found that Jincheng Mountain has quite a bit of spiritual energy, so I came this way and happened to encounter your household seeking a Daoist.” He noticed Mr. Bolton's eyes darting about, seemingly not quite believing his words. He glanced at Charles Bolton, who remained expressionless and did not speak up for him. Clearly, the warmth from those copper coins had already faded. Secretly resentful but helpless, he could only brace himself and continue, “Originally, I was only interested in seeking herbs, but Daoists cultivate both body and mind. Exorcising evil and subduing demons can also increase one’s cultivation, so I volunteered to come.”

Mr. Bolton let out an “Oh!” Whether or not the evil could be exorcised was secondary; what he cared about was the price. Like that Bodhi master a few days ago—he didn’t drive away the evil, but took away two strings of coins. Only because of the filth on his head did he feel embarrassed to ask for the money back. This time, he had to ask clearly first.

After pondering for a moment, he asked, “May I ask how much incense money the Daoist will require?”

Arthur Coleman smiled slightly and said, “If I can’t exorcise the evil, I won’t take a single coin!” He was well-versed in such matters. As long as he got started, even if he didn’t ask for labor fees, there would always be expenses for ashes and talisman paper, and tonight’s dinner and lodging would also be taken care of.

Mr. Bolton was overjoyed and said eagerly, “With each day’s delay, the danger grows. There’s no time to lose—please begin at once, Daoist!”

But the Daoist did not answer. Instead, he turned to Emily Thompson and said, “Disciple, fetch my soul-summoning bell.”

Emily Thompson responded, took out a blue cloth bundle from his bag, and was about to open it when he stopped and smiled at Mr. Bolton, “Please stand back, sir. This soul-summoning bell is quite powerful—I’m afraid you might not be able to withstand it.”

After saying this, he handed the bundle to his master and ran far away, watching nervously. Seeing his solemn expression, Mr. Bolton thought it didn’t look like an act and believed it a bit, quickly stepping aside, not knowing what trick they were about to play.

Arthur Coleman carefully opened the bundle and took out a red bell. The bell had holes, all stuffed with white hemp, and inside were things like sulfur and gunpowder. When necessary, he could spray a little fire to fool the villagers. But since Mr. Bolton seemed somewhat knowledgeable, using fire would be a bit crude. He held the bell, shook it in the southeast corner, then in the northwest corner, looking for all the world like a bomb-sniffing dog.

Finally, he carefully wrapped the bell back up, his face darkening, and shook his head at Mr. Bolton, “Today happens to be the fifteenth day of the twelfth lunar month. Haven’t you heard the saying, ‘When the moon is full, ghosts knock at the door’? I was in a hurry to return to the mountain and wanted to give it a try, but after checking just now, I found your house is filled with too much yin energy. The evil is of the yin type, and it’s even harder to drive out. It must be done in sunlight.”

“But last time the eminent monk said it was fine to do it at night!”

Arthur Coleman saw that Mr. Bolton was still hesitant, and noticed his disciple giving him a look. Following his gaze, he saw the hem of a woman’s skirt faintly visible by the moon gate near the wall. He understood at once—surely the person in charge was hiding there, eavesdropping.

He sneered inwardly, then sighed and said, “If you insist on exorcising the evil tonight, I’m afraid my skills are limited and might endanger the young master’s life. Fine! I still need to gather herbs—please seek someone more capable, sir!”

He bent down, picked up his money pouch, and said, “Disciple, let’s go!”

Emily Thompson agreed, slung the bundle over his back, and strode toward the door. Arthur Coleman shook his head, gave a wry smile, and followed his disciple out, silently counting in his heart, “One step, two steps, three steps—someone will come!”

“Immortal, please wait!” Sure enough, a woman’s voice called out. Arthur Coleman laughed heartily to himself, slowed his pace, and turned back in surprise. He saw a woman swaying out from the moon gate, followed closely by a young married woman with a face full of worry, and behind them came a group of maids and old women.

Mr. Bolton saw his wife come out and secretly thought this was bad. He had actually wanted to first sound out this Daoist, so he could have the upper hand when bargaining later. Unexpectedly, his wife came out and ruined things. His wife was usually shrewd, but when it came to their son, she became as foolish as any woman, letting others take advantage. Thinking of his shiny copper coins about to be given away to this shabby Daoist, he felt a real pang in his heart.

“Immortal, please wait—please save my son’s life!” Mrs. Bolton fluttered over like a butterfly, blocking their way and giving him a graceful salute.