Most likely a massacre! After all, anyone who’s spent time in the cultivation world knows the words most often used to describe Ethan Sullivan: ungrateful, insane—could there be anyone more fitting for the title of “demon incarnate”? Since they dared to call him by name, it’s certain they wouldn’t make a wish that could be easily granted.

Ethan Sullivan said helplessly, “You’ve got the wrong person...”

Chapter 3: Second to None in Causing Trouble

He originally wanted to wash his face and pay his respects to the body’s former owner, but there was no water in the room—not for drinking, not for washing.

The only basin-like object, Ethan Sullivan guessed, was probably for relieving oneself, not for washing up.

He tried the door; it was bolted from the outside, probably to keep him from running around.

Not a single thing made him feel even a hint of the joy of rebirth!

So he simply sat down to meditate and get used to his new body. He sat for an entire day. When he opened his eyes, sunlight was streaming into the room through the cracks in the door and window. Although he could get up and walk, he still felt dizzy and weak, with no sign of improvement. Ethan Sullivan wondered, “This Mo Xuanyu’s cultivation is so low that his spiritual power is negligible. There’s no reason I shouldn’t be able to control this body. Why is it so useless?”

It wasn’t until his stomach rumbled that he realized it had nothing to do with cultivation or spiritual power—this body simply wasn’t used to fasting and was just hungry. If he didn’t find something to eat soon, he might become the first ever fierce ghost or evil spirit to starve to death right after being summoned.

Ethan Sullivan gathered his energy and lifted his foot, just about to kick the door open, when suddenly footsteps approached. Someone kicked the door and said impatiently, “Time to eat!”

Though that’s what they shouted, there was no sign of the door being opened. Ethan Sullivan looked down and saw that a smaller door at the bottom had been opened, just big enough for a small bowl to be shoved through.

The servant outside said again, “Hurry up! What are you dawdling for? When you’re done, put the bowl back out!”

The little door was even smaller than a dog hole—no way for a person to get through, but just right for passing a bowl. Two dishes and a bowl of rice, looking absolutely terrible. Ethan Sullivan stirred the two mismatched chopsticks stuck in the rice, feeling a bit melancholy:

The Yiling Patriarch had just returned to the world of the living, only to be kicked and cursed at. His first meal to welcome him back was this kind of cold leftovers. Where was the blood and carnage? The slaughter of entire families? Who would believe it if he told them? Truly, a tiger fallen to the plains is bullied by dogs, a dragon stranded in shallow waters is mocked by shrimps, and a plucked phoenix is worse off than a chicken.

At that moment, the servant outside spoke again, but this time in a cheerful, almost different voice: “Andy! Come here.”

A crisp, girlish voice answered from afar: “Tommy, bringing food to the one inside again?”

Tommy spat, “Why else would I come to this unlucky courtyard!”

Andy’s voice came much closer, stopping at the door: “You only bring him food once a day, and no one says anything if you slack off now and then. You’re so free, and you still complain. Look at me, I have so much work I can’t even go out and play.”

Tommy grumbled, “It’s not like I only bring him food! And you dare go out and play these days? With so many walking corpses around, every family keeps their doors tightly shut.”

Ethan Sullivan squatted by the door, eating with the two uneven chopsticks, listening as he ate.

It seemed that Mo Village hadn’t been peaceful lately. “Walking corpses,” as the name suggests, are dead people who walk—a rather low-level but very common type of corpse mutation. Usually dull-eyed and slow-moving, not very dangerous, but enough to scare ordinary people. The stench alone could make someone vomit.

However, to Ethan Sullivan, they were the easiest and most obedient puppets to control. Hearing about them again, he even felt a bit nostalgic.

Tommy seemed to be making faces: “If you want to go out, you’ll have to take me with you. I’ll protect you...” Andy said, “You? Protect me? Bragging much—do you really think you could fend those things off?” Tommy retorted sulkily, “If I can’t, no one else can either.” Andy laughed, “How do you know others can’t? I’ll have you know, today a cultivator from a prestigious clan arrived at our Mo Village! Madam is entertaining them in the main hall, and everyone in town is gathered to watch. Listen, isn’t it noisy? I don’t have time to mess with you—she’ll probably send me on another errand soon.”

Ethan Sullivan listened carefully and indeed heard the faint sounds of a crowd coming from the east. After a moment’s thought, he stood up and kicked the door. With a crack, the bolt broke.

The two servants, who had been flirting and chatting, screamed in unison as the door suddenly flew open. Ethan Sullivan tossed aside the bowl and chopsticks and walked out. The sunlight was so bright he couldn’t open his eyes for a while, and his skin stung slightly. He raised his hand to shield his brow and closed his eyes for a moment.

Tommy had screamed even louder than Andy just now. But seeing it was only the madman everyone bullied, her courage returned. Determined to regain face, she jumped over, waving her hands and scolding like shooing a dog: “Go, go! Get back! What are you doing out here!”

Even beggars or flies wouldn’t be treated worse. These servants had probably always treated Mo Xuanyu this way, and since he never resisted, they’d become utterly brazen. Ethan Sullivan lightly kicked Tommy over with one foot and laughed, “Who do you think you’re mistreating?”