Chapter 271 The Sixteenth Day of Entering a Xuanhuan Novel

Chapter 271: The Sixteenth Day of Transmigrating into a Fantasy Novel

By now, Zeng's parents had been alerted too, and they hurried to the front door. Seeing the scene, their faces went pale.

This damn beggar—was he out of his mind? Showing up at their door to raise hell every single day!

If it weren't for Dong'er's kind heart, they'd have chased him off long ago!

But no—he wasn't even hurt, and that only made him bolder, howling day and night!

When the beggar saw Zeng's parents come out, he immediately lunged forward, sobbing out: "Dad! Mom!"

Master Zeng stumbled back, dodging the beggar's grab. The servants behind him rushed over and wrestled the beggar to the ground.

Madam Zeng sighed: "You beggar! What exactly do you want? Fine, we'll give you some silver—now get out of here. Quit causing a racket."

Ceng Wendong's eyes darted. He steadied Master Zeng's arm: "Father, Mother's right. This beggar's probably faking crazy to shake us down for cash. He looks pathetic—just give him some silver and send him packing."

Master Zeng waved a hand dismissively: "You two are too soft-hearted. Fine, have it your way!"

He turned to head back inside, but the beggar burst into bitter sobs: "I don't want your money! I'm your son! Dad! Mom!"

Gan Feng remembered his task and stepped forward: "Wait!"

Hearing that, Master Zeng stopped mid-step. He frowned and glanced over, immediately spotting two men with an air of refined elegance.

Oh... wait, three.

Next to them was a man in a Daoist robe—he was the one who'd spoken.

Master Zeng turned back warily: "Daoist Master, what can I do for you?"

Ceng Wendong's pupils shrank. At the sight of the Daoist robe on the man who'd stepped forward, cold sweat broke out all over him.

He couldn't stop shaking. He immediately stepped in front of Master Zeng and Madam Zeng: "Where the hell did this stinking Daoist come from? You—"

Before he could finish, Master Zeng yanked him back, cutting him off: "Enough!"

Was this the kind of person you could just insult and offend? If he were a fake Daoist, fine—but if he had real power, their family was done for!

Besides, looking at the two men beside the Daoist who'd spoken—with that kind of bearing, they were clearly no frauds.

He quickly bowed to Gan Feng and the others: "My son is insolent. Please forgive him, Daoist Master."

Gan Feng waved a hand, signaling it was no big deal.

He cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back: "Ahem, ahem!"

"This humble Daoist was passing by with his companions when he sensed evil energy stirring in this area."

He pointed at Ceng Wendong and the beggar: "And that evil energy is coiled around these two!"

At that, the crowd erupted in murmurs.

Seeing the beggar's heart-wrenching state—could there really be something more going on?

Ceng Wendong's face twisted: "Bullshit! Wherever you stinking Daoist came from, get the hell out!"

Seeing his son in such a panicked, reckless state, Master Zeng exchanged a wary glance with Madam Zeng.

An Yi leaned in and whispered in Gan Feng's ear: "The chest."

Gan Feng got the hint, his heart settling. He swallowed back the words he'd been about to say.

He took a deep breath and strode forward. As Ceng Wendong backed away, distracted, he called out: "Young Master, careful—there's something on your collar!"

Even as he spoke, his hand shot out like lightning, grabbing at Ceng Wendong's collar!

"Riiip—"

Gan Feng ripped open the front of the brocade robe, exposing his chest.

The crowd gasped.

There, right in the center of Ceng Wendong's pale chest, was a sinister red mark as long as a palm—like a cinnabar brand—with faint traces of blood around it.

Almost at the same time, the beggar on the ground seemed to snap. He tore open his own tattered, filthy shirt and screamed: "Look! I've got one too! I've got one too!"

"This has to be the mark of some evil sorcery!"

Everyone looked—sure enough, there on the beggar's grimy chest was an identical dark red mark!

Xie Xuandu followed An Yi as they stepped forward. He glanced at the two marks and let out a chuckle: "There is an ancient evil art called the 'Heart-Shifting Soul-Exchange' technique. This art can swap the hearts of two people, carrying their souls into each other's bodies as well. Judging by the marks on these two men's chests, this is the mark of a recent casting."

Gan Feng immediately understood. He stepped back and declared in a clear voice: "Master Zeng, Madam Zeng! This young master of your household is likely no longer the original person—his soul has been... exchanged with this beggar's!"

Upon hearing this, Ceng Wendong's face turned ashen in an instant. He instinctively clutched his chest, his eyes frantic, all traces of his earlier arrogance gone.

"You... you're talking nonsense!" he retorted, outwardly fierce but inwardly weak, his voice trembling.

The beggar, meanwhile, clung to this like a lifeline, tears and snot streaming down his face as he kowtowed desperately to Zeng's parents: "Dad! Mom! He's right! I'm your Dong'er! It was that beggar who took my body and enjoyed my wealth! I'm Ceng Wendong!"

Zeng's parents were shocked, furious, and terrified all at once.

They hastily invited An Yi and the other two into the mansion, shutting the gates tightly to block out the curious gazes outside.

Judging by these people's demeanor, what these Daoists said was likely true.

The servants exchanged glances, helping the weak-kneed Ceng Wendong inside. They no longer dared to handle the beggar roughly either, and escorted him into the mansion with kind words as well.

Inside the Zeng residence.

Seeing there was no escape today, the beggar who had usurped the young master's identity—having little backbone or cunning to begin with—crumbled completely under Gan Feng's confident assertions and the beggar's tearful accusations.

Zeng's parents, shocked and enraged, pressed him relentlessly. He soon collapsed to the ground, sobbing, and confessed the whole story from beginning to end.

It turned out that months ago, when Ceng Wendong was out carousing with friends in fine clothes and on a fine horse, this beggar had caught sight of him and been consumed by jealousy.

Later, a Daoist who had once received a bowl of water from the beggar in his childhood came to repay the favor, asking what the beggar wished for.

The beggar stated plainly that he wanted the life of a wealthy young master like Ceng Wendong—riches, honor, beautiful wives, and concubines.

That Daoist, whose ways were neither wholly righteous nor wholly wicked, devised this evil "Heart-Shifting Soul-Exchange" technique.

He cut open both men's hearts at night, exchanged them, and cast the spell to swap their souls.

Today was the fifth day of the spell's progression; it required a full seven days to become permanently fixed.

The Daoist was currently still staying at an inn in the city, planning to slip away quietly once the seven days were complete—and the beggar's original body would naturally not be allowed to live either.

The beggar kept his own body as a backup plan—if the soul-swap failed, he could still return to it. That was also why he hadn't destroyed the troublesome body.

Madam Zeng clutched her chest, crying "Aiya, aiya!" and threw herself onto the beggar, embracing him. "My son! How you've suffered! Damn that Taoist priest! Damn that beggar!"

The beggar wailed in return, "Mother!!"

An Yi raised an eyebrow. When he'd read the original story, he'd found it fascinating. Swap hearts? Could swapping hearts really swap souls?

How interesting.