The Unremarkable Little Taoist Master - Chapter 155 - Six Nations Villa

“Why must you seek to understand this evil connection?”

The old daoist priest said to the female ghost with a hint of helplessness.

The female ghost seemed lost in her own world, suddenly turning to look at me.

A resolute expression appeared on her face.

The old daoist priest, watching the female ghost, seemed to have guessed something.

He shouted loudly, “Evil creature, do you dare?”

“Bang! The female ghost transformed into a thick wave of yin energy and charged at me.”

I saw my Qilin tattoo, which had been silent for a long time, suddenly burst into intense vibrations.

The female ghost let out a cold sniff and, without the slightest pause, continued to pounce at me.

I thought the Qilin tattoo would swallow the female ghost as it had in the past, but I was destined to be disappointed.

I was ultimately a step too late; the female ghost merged with me completely.

I felt an endless surge of yin energy rushing through my body, giving me an overwhelming sense of impending explosion.

The old man sighed and shook his head at me.

“She actually merged with you; it seems we are truly in trouble.”

I asked with some concern, “What does this mean?”

“The female ghost has signed a contract with you, and there’s nothing I can do to change that. But it is beneficial for you; she has become your protector, after all, she’s a thousand-year-old evil ghost.”

Upon hearing the old man’s words, I felt my heart collapse.

The mere thought of having a thousand-year-old female ghost inside me made me feel a wave of fear.

“Prepare yourself; we need to go out soon.”

“Where to?” I asked, somewhat unwillingly.

The old man’s expression was extremely grim as he coldly uttered a few words.

“Six Nations Villa.”

I looked at the old daoist priest in confusion and asked, “What’s wrong, old man? Is there an issue with Six Nations Villa?”

The old man restrained his anxiety and slowly said, “It’s more than just an issue; do you know what kind of place Six Nations Villa is?”

I shook my head in confusion; I had almost never heard this name before.

The old man took a breath and continued, “Six Nations Villa is a place of supernatural occurrences. It is said to have been built after Bai Qi massacred the surrendered soldiers of Zhao State, as he felt the overwhelming yin energy in the area.”

Bai Qi was known as a ruthless butcher, and those surrendered soldiers dared not cause any trouble. However, everything changed after Bai Qi’s death. It is said that he was killed by King Zhao of Qin due to distrust, and he died with great resentment.

Coincidentally, Bai Qi died at Six Nations Villa. Since then, the villa has been often associated with ghostly sounds, revealing the horrors of the Battle of Changping and the grim fate of the executed surrendered soldiers.

Those who witnessed these phenomena reportedly died mysteriously in their homes. In recent years, the area has been redeveloped into a tourist attraction called Six Nations Villa.

After hearing the old daoist priest’s account, I smiled. I had indeed heard of Bai Qi; he was a fierce figure, with reports suggesting that over a million people died at his hands, earning him the title “God of Killing,” which was certainly not an exaggeration.

I was also eager to see the ruins of the Battle of Changping, not thinking too much about it. After chatting with the old man, the two of us set off towards Six Nations Villa.

As we drove along, I admired the crops growing in the fields, a lush green that lifted my spirits. In this vibrant environment, I felt a sense of relaxation.

The old daoist priest and I bantered back and forth, laughing and chatting as we approached Six Nations Villa. However, the smile on my face couldn’t quite mask the tension and pressure I felt inside.

I knew the old man was even more worried about our journey, fearing we might encounter some insurmountable problems. But since we were already on our way, I adopted the mindset of making the best of it, believing that our trip would not face any significant issues.

The car shook increasingly as the mountain roads became steeper. I noticed the old man’s worried expression growing more intense as we approached our destination. I felt the weight of my backpack, slowly relaxing. This time, I had brought the old man’s ritual implements, and even if danger arose, I believed we could leave calmly.

As the car came to a screeching halt, we arrived at our destination: Six Nations Villa. I shook the old daoist priest, who was still lost in thought, and we got out of the vehicle. Gazing at the villa as night fell, a chill ran down my spine.

Six Nations Villa was built on a small hillside, and we could see that it occupied at least half of the slope. However, I couldn’t bring myself to praise its appearance; the crumbling ancient walls were marked by the passage of time.

A golden plaque at the entrance displayed the name “Six Nations Villa” in blood-red letters. Under the cloak of night, the villa exuded an eerie atmosphere, looking less like a tourist attraction and more like an ancient tomb.

At the entrance stood two massive blood-red lions. The lions were carved with lifelike detail, but oddly enough, their grinning mouths had a somewhat sinister twist. For some reason, the eyes of the stone lions seemed to mock me.

Given the unnerving sight of Six Nations Villa, we decided it was best not to head up the hill tonight. Instead, we chose to find a hotel to stay in until morning. After wandering around for a long time, we found that all inns in the area were fully booked. Reluctantly, we settled for a small inn that was the closest to Six Nations Villa.

While it was called a “small inn,” it felt more like an ancient tavern when we stepped inside. The entire structure was adorned in ancient architectural styles. If it weren’t for the innkeeper’s modern clothing, I would have thought we had traveled back in time.

We chose a relatively nice room and started to prepare for bed. After a long day of travel, we were both exhausted.

In the early hours of the night, I was woken from a half-dream by the sound of weeping. Groggily, I looked over at the old man, who was trembling by the bed. Following his gaze, I was suddenly drenched in sweat.

Before us lay countless mutilated corpses, and surrounding them was a group of fierce-looking soldiers. They were digging a massive pit while forcibly throwing unarmed soldiers into it, then burying them with dirt.

Some soldiers attempted to resist but were met with sharp swords that swiftly severed their heads, leaving the ground littered with rolling skulls. The horrifying scene caused waves of nausea to rise within me, but I managed to hold back my stomach.

In the center of it all stood a middle-aged man, coldly observing the chaos. He wore armor, held a map in his left hand, and a sword in his right, his gaze reflecting a bloodthirsty desire. Then, with a swift motion, he swung his sword, and a fresh head rolled to the ground.