The Mansion, in Steward Wang's room.
An old man with silver hair lay on the brocade couch, his expression serene, so calm that not even his chest rose and fell.
Suddenly, there was a disturbance outside the tightly closed doors and windows, and a wisp of black smoke seeped through the gap in the door, transforming into a humanoid form of smoke and, like a whale drawing in water, it rushed into the silver-haired elder's mouth and nostrils.
In an instant, the old man slowly opened his eyes, a flash of resentment fleeting across them.
"Damn Taoist, I truly thought you were a brute, you almost had me fooled."
He was called the Five-Tongued Demon, a nefarious spirit born coincidentally from the convergence of human desire and the grudges of heaven and earth.
In his life, he had not cultivated good deeds, only taking pleasure in lust.
