A cold, chilling voice sounded again from behind him: “Go fix the door! The door is about to open, there are too many ghosts outside, they want to come in and snatch the food!”

Samuel turned around in shock once more.

He didn’t see the ghost hiding behind him, but he did see that the paper figures in the mourning hall had stopped crying. They all stood up and stared at him.

The many paper figures wore little hats and mandarin jackets, with noses, eyes, and mouths, and a bright dab of rouge on their snow-white cheeks.

Each one looked stiff and sinister.

At this moment, the mountain wind was much fiercer than before, but the paper figures were not blown at all. They stood up facing Samuel, as if nailed to the ground.

Instead, the wooden doors of the temple rattled loudly in the wind, on the verge of collapse.

Samuel was a bit flustered. He instinctively ran a few steps toward the main door, trying to brace it, but as he lifted his foot, he found that the door had suddenly become smaller!

He immediately realized: it wasn’t the door that had shrunk, but the distance between him and the door had grown.

He looked around again and found that the courtyard seemed to have grown larger in his eyes—

Damn, ghostly illusion!

Realizing this, Samuel quickly turned to look for the ghost clinging to his back, but found nothing. Instead, he noticed that the positions of the paper figures in the mourning hall had changed again.

The paper figures had appeared at the entrance of the mourning hall, crowding the doorway and craning out…

Even though their faces were expressionless.

But Samuel could feel their desire to pounce on him.

Samuel looked back at the temple’s main door, then turned his head again.

The paper figures had shifted positions once more; the two at the very front had already stepped out of the mourning hall.

Seeing this, Samuel understood.

As long as he kept his eyes on these paper figures, they couldn’t move. If he looked away, they would move toward him!

As he was thinking, the cold, chilling voice sounded behind his ear:

“Taoist, are you turning around looking for me? Then why don’t you try looking up?”

At the same time, the old voice from before echoed in:

“Boy, come open the door, you picked up my money, give me your life, give me your life!”

“Let me in, I want to come in, let me in, I hate, I hate so much!”

“Why did they get in so quickly, why am I stuck outside? I have no legs, I can’t run!”

Eerie voices echoed inside and outside the temple, swirling around the courtyard with the mountain wind.

For a moment, the temple was filled with a surge of ghostly energy!

The situation was dire!

At this critical moment, Samuel suddenly exploded: “Shut your filthy mouths!”

He didn’t look up, but instead shouted at the mourning hall: “Blessed Supreme Lord! Demons, don’t think I can’t defeat you! It’s only because Heaven cherishes life that I don’t want to wipe you all out!”

“Now that you refuse to repent, don’t blame me for being ruthless!”

With a fierce shout, he glanced at the mourning hall from the corner of his eye and pointed at the main door: “A bunch of mountain demons and water ghosts, is it? I’ll open the temple door right now and let you all in!”

“If you dare, come at me together—what is there for Yun to fear!”

“To deal with you scaly vermin, I don’t even need the ancestral treasures passed down by my forebears. With just my iron fists, I can smash you all to pieces!”

Having fallen into a desperate situation, he suddenly shed his previous timidity, his whole being like a tiger unleashed, a sharp sword drawn!

He spoke through gritted teeth, biting his lips and tongue so hard that the spit he sprayed was blood-red!

The icy mountain wind in the courtyard paused for a moment.

The coffin in the mourning hall suddenly stood upright, and the paper figures all retreated.

In the shade of the trees, at the wellhead, and in the shadows of the buildings, figures watched him in shock and suspicion—

Could they have misjudged him? Does this little Taoist really have great powers?

Was he just pretending to be weak earlier?

Was he baiting the ghosts?

Some ghosts hesitated, wanting to test him.

But Samuel held his head high and strode toward the temple’s main door, walking with the vigor of a dragon or tiger, actually tucking his peachwood sword into his belt and stuffing his horsetail whisk into his robe.

Seeing this, the restless ghostly shadows in the courtyard quieted down.

If you don’t have the skills, don’t take on the job. If you don’t have the tools, don’t try the work.

Even ghosts understand this principle.

Samuel ignored them. With a cold, solemn face, he walked to the door and grabbed the bolt.

At the same time, he turned and swept a proud gaze over the courtyard and mourning hall.

He opened his mouth as if to say something more.

The ghosts lurking in the temple waited warily for his next shocking words.

No sound came.

Only Samuel’s other hand placed the spindle-head silver coin he had just pulled from his robe in front of him, and spat a mouthful of bloody saliva onto it:

Treasure coin, father, bless me—this thing must work, it must let me become a spindle-head!

This was the only way out he could think of when he was in desperate straits.

He had been in too dire a situation before.

In front of him in the mourning hall were a bunch of paper figures he had to keep an eye on at all times, beside him was a ghost he couldn’t see, and outside the door who knew how many ghosts were still banging on it…

How could he fight this battle?

He couldn’t!

If you can’t beat them, join them.