In the hotel, Xin Lang sat comfortably in a chair, savoring his tea with a leisurely smile, patiently awaiting Mo Lin's arrival.
Upon seeing Mo Lin's figure appear, Xin Lang finally spoke.
"I must admit, I underestimated you," Xin Lang said bluntly, facing Mo Lin.
"Speak. What will it take for you to release Lin Xi?" Mo Lin asked straightforwardly.
"Tomorrow, you will come alone to the Xin residence, and I shall set her free," Xin Lang replied, a cold smirk curling his lips.
"Lord Mo, it's a trap—you must not agree!" Zheng Zimin urgently warned.
Even without the reminder, Mo Lin understood perfectly well.
Was asking him to walk into the Xin residence alone not akin to sending a lamb into a tiger's den?
"Mo Lin, you must not go!" Zheng Nan also hastily added.
The entire group was voicing their concern.
Mo Lin, however, remained composed and replied calmly to Xin Lang, "Very well."
The crowd was stunned.
Even Xin Lang himself had not expected Mo Lin to agree so readily, as though he did not fear death at all.
Indeed, even Zheng Zimin was astonished—was Mo Lin truly going to the Xin residence alone, essentially walking into his grave?
"Good. Bold indeed. I shall await you," Xin Lang said with a sneer, turning and leaving.
His figure soon disappeared from sight.
"Lord Mo, please reconsider. Going alone to the Xin residence is no different from courting death," Zheng Zimin urged again.
"Indeed, it would be suicide," echoed Qiao Wuran.
"It's fine," Mo Lin responded coolly.
Seeing his unshaken expression, Qiao Wuran gasped, "Lord Mo, you aren't truly planning to go, are you? Are you confident you can deal with the Xin family?"
"I have about a seventy percent chance," Mo Lin said, his mind already formulating a strategy.
Qiao Wuran was stunned, finding it hard to believe.
"Lord Mo, you must not underestimate Xin Lang. The Xin family has more than just Xin Lang as a sixth-level Ghost Controller. They have cultivated numerous ferocious ghosts—it won't be easy."
"Even among us seven sixth-level Ghost Controllers, none would claim seventy percent certainty against the Xin family," Zheng Zimin added gravely. "Lord Mo, you may indeed be underestimating them. Their foundations run deep. You face great peril."
Their words were tactful, but the underlying meaning was clear—they did not believe Mo Lin would survive.
Originally, Mo Lin had planned to retrieve the Ten Thousand Demons Suppression Talisman before confronting the Xin family.
But circumstances had changed, forcing him to move ahead of schedule.
"Lord Mo, please don't go. We will find another way to rescue her," Zheng Zimin pleaded once more.
"Indeed, going now would be certain death," Qiao Wuran echoed.
"It's fine," Mo Lin said indifferently.
Seeing that he would not be persuaded, Zheng Zimin and Qiao Wuran could only sigh and give up.
The sky grew darker.
Around seven in the evening, Mo Lin's phone rang—it was an unfamiliar number.
Upon answering, Xin Lang's voice came through.
"The plan has changed. Come to the Xin residence immediately."
Wary of Mo Lin playing tricks, Xin Lang had decided to alter the agreed time.
"Come alone, and I will release her," Xin Lang reiterated.
"Very well," Mo Lin answered simply.
After hanging up, he tidied himself briefly and set out.
The Xin residence was located in the eastern suburbs, occupying its own private estate.
Mo Lin arrived at the street and walked about ten minutes before reaching the entrance.
Lin Xi was bound with rope, a strip of tape covering her mouth, standing by Xin Lang's side.
Upon confirming that Mo Lin had indeed come alone, Xin Lang moved to release Lin Xi.
Tearing the tape from her mouth, Lin Xi immediately cried out, her voice frantic, "Run! It's a trap!"
Mo Lin remained calm, his gaze cold. Placing a hand on Lin Xi's shoulder, he spoke softly yet firmly.
"Go home and get some rest. Tomorrow, everything will be back to normal."
His icy demeanor sent a chill through her heart.
Though she had much she wanted to say, she swallowed it down, nodded obediently, and left.
"After tomorrow, Beihai will know the Xin family no more," Mo Lin declared, his voice as cold as winter frost.
"My, what big words," Xin Lang snorted derisively.
He did not bother to make things difficult for Lin Xi—his true target was Mo Lin.
Calm and unflinching, Mo Lin stepped through the gates of the Xin residence.
The moment he crossed the threshold, a biting chill surged toward him.
Ghostly figures materialized one after another—many of them.
At a glance, there were over a hundred.
Their faces twisted with malice, they stared at Mo Lin as though he were prey.
Among them, at least twenty were Nightmare-level ghosts.
This number even exceeded the collection Mo Lin had sealed within his Ghost-Town Tome.
Yet instead of worry, a smile crept across Mo Lin's face—an irrepressible grin.
Was this not fortune falling from the heavens?
These ghosts were priceless treasures!
"What's the matter? Frozen in fear?" Xin Lang sneered, seeing Mo Lin's grin.
At his signal, the ghosts surged forward.
"Chen Xi," Mo Lin called softly.
A figure materialized beside him—Chen Xi, now a Fatal-level ghost.
Ghostfire blazed from her form, and the Nightmare-level ghosts dared not advance.
"A Fatal-level ghost? He's a sixth-level Ghost Controller?!" Xin Lang's expression shifted slightly.
Fortunately, he had prepared a special method in advance, thanks to Lord Qin's warning.
"Move!" Xin Lang shouted toward the distance.
Four young men leaped down from the rooftops, each holding a red rope threaded with copper coins.
They quickly surrounded Chen Xi, forming a square.
When she attempted to break through, the moment her hand touched the red rope, white smoke sizzled from her skin.
They had successfully restrained her.
This, it seemed, was Xin Lang's prearranged plan for dealing with Mo Lin.
Seeing Chen Xi trapped, Mo Lin calmly summoned his second spirit.
"Wu Yang."
Another Fatal-level ghost appeared.
A flicker of dread crossed Xin Lang's eyes.
"Another one?"
There was no denying it—Mo Lin was truly formidable.
Had he not made preparations, he would have suffered terribly tonight.
"Old Liu, handle this one," Xin Lang ordered.
The young man known as Old Liu nodded, then pulled out a Bagua Mirror, shining it at Wu Yang.
Golden light burst forth, freezing Wu Yang in place.
Mo Lin was not surprised.
In a life-or-death confrontation, caution was only natural.
There was no point summoning his Nightmare-level ghosts—their effectiveness here would be minimal.
"Mo Lin, if you have any tricks left, bring them out!" Xin Lang taunted.
In response, Mo Lin silently produced a Thunder Talisman.
"Sh*t, he really does have more tricks!" Xin Lang swore involuntarily, his face twisting in disbelief.
He had been speaking mockingly—never expecting Mo Lin to actually still have a trump card.
4o