I have a Taoist temple that connects me to other worlds

The crimson blood mist resembled a tornado, piercing through the heavens and the earth. From afar, it looked just like a scarlet dragon!

Its dragon head was hidden within the dark clouds of dawn, while its tail connected to the earth.

So vast! Like an ancient pillar supporting the heavens and the earth, it was truly astonishing.

Cries and shouts intermingled, creating utter chaos.

Everyone was at a loss, looking at each other in bewilderment.

"What exactly happened? Why have we turned into this!"

"Village Chief! Old Village Chief! Save us!"

The punishment of the heavens will always descend at some point.

"This method involves throwing the women of your family into the well in the center of the village as a living sacrifice. At least one person is needed each year, and it's even better if there are several."

"If it weren't for you, we wouldn't have dared to do such a thing. Now that this has happened, you must give us an explanation."

The words cut into his heart like knives, and complaints rose one after another. The old village chief's gaze swept across the faces of everyone present, and he only felt boundless sorrow in his heart. He thought that perhaps the retribution had already been buried when he initially coveted that period of glory and wealth.

Some were laughing, some were going mad, and some were begging for mercy.

"Dad! I don't want to die yet! Dad, please save me."

The old village chief gripped his crutch, sighing softly: "It's too late to say anything now. From the moment we threw Erlang's wife into the well, everything that's happening today was destined to happen."

"How can this be! What are we going to do! We're still young! We're not like you, with one foot in the grave!"

"If I let the tribulation mist run rampant, it will eventually bring disaster to this southern Fujian land. No matter what, I, a poor Daoist, must manage this matter," the long-bearded Daoist thought in his heart.

He looked at the blood mist, feeling his own magical power somewhat congealed. Such astonishing resentment; he didn't know how these vulgar people had nurtured it.

The old village chief stood alone opposite the crowd, straining his head to look at the villagers. He suddenly laughed, a different kind of smile appearing on his aged face.

"So that's how it is," the long-bearded Daoist nodded slightly and said. "In the end, you couldn't resist the greed in people's hearts. You should know that this wealth was predetermined. Having enjoyed this wealth, you will naturally not be able to avoid this disaster. This tribulation mist is so thick, it seems it is because you have done too much evil."

"Undying old thief! It's all your fault! If you hadn't advocated for the living sacrifice, none of this would have happened!"

It's just that now, the great sages of all the sects do not concern themselves with worldly affairs, and the righteous path of the human world is vast and indistinct.

"Yes, it's all the old man's fault. You have enjoyed twenty years of protection from the living sacrifice, and everyone is well-fed and clothed, with no worries about food or clothing. Why didn't you think about this now? The living sacrifice was proposed by the old man, but is the old man the only one enjoying it?"

"Child! My son! Village Chief, look at him, he's already turned into an old man with white hair. He's only seven years old!"

He looked at the Daoist standing aside for a long time and bowed to him.

"The villagers were afraid of poverty, so they were skeptical. They first sacrificed the widow. As a result, that year was truly blessed with favorable weather and everything went smoothly. So we…"

Snakes die of greed, and birds die of eating.

"Human nature is fickle; we cannot share hardship with those we share wealth with. The sages do not deceive us."

"Yes, Village Chief, it was all your idea."

The voices of the crowd were endless, and the center of the commotion was the frail and aged old village chief.

"Village Chief, what should we do!"

The Daoist looked at the blood mist that covered half the sky and could only sigh deeply. This tribulation mist had been nurtured by humans for twenty years. Once it erupted, the resentment would be enough to alarm the nine heavens and three realms. Only a great sage could quell it.

The old village chief was unwilling to say any more. He knew that there was no need to say the remaining words. All he could do now was quietly look at the long-bearded Daoist; fortune and misfortune depended entirely on a single thought.

"Why didn't you die sooner! Why did you want to harm people!"

The old village chief leaned on his crutch alone. His figure was hunched over so severely that he was almost touching the ground.

His face, like an old tree, was expressionless, as if he had long known that this moment would come. Only the Daoist behind the old village chief stood aside, silently watching all of this.

All aspects of the world seemed to appear at this moment.

"This old man doesn't understand what tribulation mist is. In the past, Changping Village was called Yangjia Village. Perhaps the feng shui wasn't good, and the village's accumulated poverty was difficult to eliminate. So I invited a Daoist to take a look, but he said that Yangjia Village's feng shui was unfavorable for wealth and difficult to reverse," the old village chief recalled. "Later, a handsome young man came to the village and told me that there was a way to eradicate the disadvantages of Yangjia Village's feng shui, and it would only take twenty-one years to turn loss into profit."

"Haha, retribution, retribution! This is all the retribution we deserve! Haha, Wu Niang, Wu Niang, I'm coming to the Yellow Springs to see you."

A tidal wave of accusations came crashing down, and everyone glared at the old village chief, their eyes filled with hatred. It was as if the person in front of them was not their respected village chief, but an irreconcilable enemy.

The long-bearded Daoist stroked his beard, half-closed his eyes, and said after pondering for a moment: "It's not that this poor Daoist is unwilling to offer help, but your karma is too deeply entangled, making it difficult to salvage. If this tribulation mist had not yet arisen, this poor Daoist would still have had a way. But now that the tribulation mist has arisen, even immortals descending to earth would find it difficult! Helpless, helpless."

"Alas." The long-bearded Daoist sighed, then looked at the old village chief. "Tell me, who exactly taught you this method, that it could nurture such a tribulation mist."

"Village Chief, everyone did those things because they listened to you. Now you have to tell us what to do, how we could have turned into this." The person kneeling on the ground with protruding teeth stared at the old village chief, his hoarse voice filled with anger.

After the old village chief finished speaking, everyone present fell silent. They looked at each other, then saw evasion in each other's eyes. There were still people cursing angrily in the crowd, but the old village chief no longer cared much.

Some people knelt and worshiped heaven and earth, some people wailed on the ground, some people laughed wildly at the sky, and some people sat calmly on the ground.

When the villagers saw the village chief coming, they rushed to his side like drowning people seeing a piece of driftwood. They knelt around the village chief, staring intently with their aged faces.

"Yes, Village Chief, please say something!"

"Please, immortal master, save the villagers of Changping Village," he said in a bitter voice.

"Then what should be done?! Please, immortal master, give us guidance. For the sake of the hundred households in Changping Village, what does it matter if this old man loses his life?" The old village chief's eyes were full of anticipation, and he looked at the long-bearded Daoist with great spirit.

"It's you! You old thing! It's all you!"

"If this catastrophe can be averted, even if you can escape the death penalty, you will still be punished."

"I only beg the immortal master to save our children; the children are innocent," the old village chief choked.

"This poor Daoist can only try… Huh?" The long-bearded Daoist's voice was somewhat surprised. His gaze was fixed on Changping Village in the distance. "This is…"