This super son is still okay, let Zhuo Xiong pinch him for a while and he woke up, but when he woke up, he felt dizzy, his eyes were dizzy, and it seemed that mild concussion was inevitable.

  Although Chaozi was shouting to go and peel off the cross meat face, he could only sit on Lao Wang's head at this moment, because he found that as soon as he thought of standing up, his heart would feel nauseous.

  When Zhuo Xiong returned, Cha Wenbin had already used fragrant ash to simply bandage the two wounds on Heng Roulian's face. Fortunately, the two shots were extremely accurate and did not hit any bones, but the power of the sand eagle was still too strong, almost sticking to the bone, and nearly all the muscles in Heng Roulian's robust arm had been blown off.

  They were all ready to leave, pulling the three patients along, and piling them on Zhang Wenbin's head. He could only do his best. If an ordinary person had suffered such serious injuries, they would probably have fainted from pain long ago, but that thick-skinned face was desperately struggling on the ground, looking like he wanted to fight to the death.

  "Zhuo Xiong, take good care of him, or else you'll have to deal with me." Cha Wenbin cut open a bag of black dog blood, and the smell of blood wafted out. Heng Rou's eyes nearly popped out when he smelled it, although his body was still tied up, but that fierce energy still made Zhuo Xiong feel like he was being pressed down on him with great force.

  So far, Cha Wenbin has only confirmed that the kid is making a fuss, but what kind of fuss he's making is still unknown. With his middle finger stained with some black dog blood, he vigorously wiped it on the kid's forehead, which was already blurry with flesh and skin. The kid immediately let out a scream like a slaughtered pig, and if there wasn't something stuffed in his mouth, he would probably have shouted loudly enough to shake the sky by now.

  He always carried another thing with him, a small white porcelain bottle, plugged with a stopper and wrapped in a thick layer of cotton wool from an old quilt. What was inside was ox tears. There's a Chinese idiom that says "killing a chicken with a bull knife", but actually the knives used by real masters of killing cows are much smaller than those used for chickens.

  This cow is a very human-like animal, when it's young and strong, it works hard for people to plow the fields, diligent and selfless. When it can't work anymore, it will be dragged out and slaughtered for meat.

  How does the master kill the cow? In my grandmother's house, there was such a master. Every time before slaughtering the cow, he would go to call Zhang Wenbin and let him take something. What is it? It's the cow's tears.

  Killing the cow is often done in the evening, it is said that on this day, no matter what, the host family will not let the cow work again, but instead give it good fodder to eat its fill, as if to let it have a good day in this life.

  By dusk, the host family would lead the cow to the village entrance, where there was a large tree, and tie the cow to that big tree. At this time, the host family would turn their backs, some people would even secretly cry, and the children and women who came to watch would be chased back home. The master butcher would come with Cha Wenbin.

  The butcher held a few handfuls of green grass to the cow's mouth, at which point the cow usually wouldn't eat. Then the butcher began gently stroking the cow's back, putting his mouth next to the cow's ear and whispering a few words. After a while, the big yellow cow would kneel down on one knee in the direction of its owner, then Cao Wenbin quickly placed the small bottle under the cow's eye, and soon large tears began rolling out.

  Then, behind the cow's neck, a small package will slowly bulge up. At this time, the butcher will open his own thing, take out a narrow and sharp little knife, about half the size of a fruit knife.

  The butcher had one hand on the package and the other hand hanging in mid-air. When the small package on the cow's back was about the size of a steamed bun, Cha Wenbin had also obtained the required amount of beef tears. At this point, the butcher would shout: "One knife to go!", and then the small knife in his other hand would suddenly stab into the small package on the cow's neck, and the old cow would immediately die.

  It's not unusual for people to hold a memorial service, but Cha Wenbin would even do it for cows. It's said that these cows are reincarnated from the previous life to repay their owners' kindness, isn't there a saying "to be an ox or a horse in the next life"? This promise must be fulfilled, so Cha Wenbin would also give them a simple funeral chant as a sendoff. Animals that have been with humans for a long time inevitably pick up some human aura, and it's not uncommon to see people being pestered by animals in rural areas. Moreover, he would take the cow's tears as a way of repaying its kindness.

  Because the cow is honest, kind and loyal, so the cow's tears have a special use, that is to see some things that people can't see, especially those that can't be seen by Taoist magic.

  He then used his index finger to pick up a few drops of cow's tears and lit an incense stick, which was an offering to the old yellow cow. The idea was to borrow its eyes to see something. He then dripped the tears from his finger onto the incense stick, three drops at a time, without missing one drop. When water and fire met, they made a "hissing" sound. If the incense stick continued to burn after the three drops of cow's tears had fallen, it meant that the old yellow cow was willing to lend him its eyes for a while; if the incense stick went out, it meant that he couldn't borrow its eyes.

  After these three drops, the incense not only did not extinguish, but instead burned even more vigorously. Cha Wenbin hastily applied a few more drops to his eyelids and opened his eyes again. The horizontal meat face was wrapped in a black mass, unable to see anything, but it was struggling desperately. He walked over there, and simply poured the remaining black dog blood on the head of the horizontal meat face, which made him struggle even harder, several times almost throwing Zhuo Xiong off his body.

  This black dog's blood was originally used to restrain evil energy, and the dark energy on Wang Mian's face began to dissipate. It wasn't until then that Cha Wenbin discovered his body had been wrapped in a circle of vines, with his feet bound by an old tree root. The heads of those vines looked like snake heads, trying to drill outwards, but were trapped by the hemp rope.

  "It was this thing!" Cha Wenbin immediately took out the black talisman that had already been drawn, and stuck it to the chest of the horizontal meat face. The vines and creepers then swarmed towards the inside, and the expression on the horizontal meat face also began to change from ferocity to extreme pain.

  Zhuo Xiong saw his brother suffering and hurriedly asked: "How is Wen Bin?"

  "Ah, I've been on this path for so many years, and it's the first time I've seen something like this," said Cha Wenbin, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "I've only heard my master mention it before, but I never thought I'd see it with my own eyes. This thing is called a 'gui' - supposedly a mountain spirit that has cultivated itself into a demon. The books say that 'at the beginning, one encounters gui, and in the end, one enters a realm without people.' It only appears in deep mountains and old forests where humans rarely tread, which means it's a demon that has cultivated itself. No wonder it's not afraid of soul-snaring grass - it's just a tree demon."

  "Tree spirit? Can trees also become spirits?" Zuo Xiong had only heard the old man talk about some animals becoming spirits, such as foxes and yellow weasels, but he had never heard that plants could also do so.

  "Alas," sighed Cha Wenbin, "this rare and deadly Feng Shui site has accumulated too much yin energy. It's a blessing that something like this was born here, just like the trees in front of the Taoist temple - after listening for so long, they naturally have their own way. After staying in this haunted place for a long time, it's natural to become such an evil creature. However, Jing is different from ghosts and spirits, it has no soul or spirit, and its methods against humans are probably not very effective. Just now, I forced it, and it must be trying to kill the possessed person. Time is of the essence, we need to think of a solution quickly."

  Cha Wenbin used the method he had used before to deal with the ghost-possessed person, scattering glutinous rice and applying dog blood, burning talismans, but the puffy-faced man not only didn't show any improvement, but his breathing became even more labored. Cha Wenbin's eyes were already dry of cow tears, so he hastily added a few drops, and when he looked again, the puffy-faced man's neck was being strangled by layer upon layer of wisteria vines, and if he didn't think of something soon, it would probably be too late to save him.

  There's no need to give Cha Wenbin more time to think, because most of the Taoist talismans and spells are aimed at humans. Whether it's a ghost, spirit or god, they're all just another form of human existence. But this Jing is different, especially for plant-based ones, they don't have souls or spirits, yet since the Ma Shen can trap it and the black dog blood can scare it, that means there's still some common ground.

  "Tree spirit, tree spirit." Zhang Wenbin muttered to himself, hoping to recall something from a book. Suddenly, an idea flashed in his mind: "Tree spirit, wood! Ah, Jin Ke Mu, this wooden block can be chopped by an axe!"

  He immediately took out the Seven Star Sword and swept it horizontally across the neck of the horizontal meat face, cutting off the tangled vines. In an instant, Zhuo Xiong felt a withered branch fall from above his head, but he didn't know where it came from.

  Cha Wenbin looked up and saw that there were many vines tangled on the top of his head, which was off the ground. Seeing this trick worked, he immediately chopped a few more knives until the vines no longer wrapped around his neck, and his breathing began to stabilize.

  Then he swung his sword at him again, and Cha Zi looked on, thinking that Zha Wenbin was like a Taoist priest, slashing wildly at the empty air beside the horizontal meat face, but the withered branches scattered on the ground were getting more and more...

  read3;