Soon, some villagers brought more torches. Taoist Huang gripped one in his hand, the red-orange flames casting a murky, vicious gleam in his eyes, the crisscrossing wrinkles on his face looking as eerie as ravines in the mountains.

With a ferocious grin on his face that only Shu Ci could see, he yanked her hair tight and hoisted her up, then shoved the crackling, raging torch right up in front of her in a brutally savage way.

The leaping tongues of flame almost singed her eyelashes; the heat rushed against her face, scorching her eyeballs till they felt like they were boiling.

Taoist Huang was vicious to the core, deliberately trying to scare her, wanting to see her scream and make a fool of herself. But to his immense disappointment, the gravely injured woman in front of him didn’t even twitch an eyelid.

Forget fear—there was still a mocking, icy smile in her eyes. Unstartled, unafraid, she calmly watched the blazing flames flickering before her, her gaze without the slightest ripple.

That overly calm reaction made Taoist Huang’s heart prickle; how was this the reaction a normal person should have?

At this point, it was too late for him to think too much. With a ruthless glint in his eyes, and under the gaze of the crowd, the torch soaked in burning oil was mercilessly pressed forward, grinding and rolling back and forth across Shu Ci’s delicate face.

Perhaps this scene was simply too cruel. Everyone unconsciously held their breath. Aunt Wu couldn’t bear to watch; she turned her head aside and secretly wiped away her tears.

They had all thought a shrill, miserable scream would shatter the morning’s calm. Yet, to their surprise, the torch might as well have been pressed against a corpse—aside from a faint smell of charred flesh rising into the air, there wasn’t a single sound.

Shu Ci’s motionless appearance made everyone’s hearts crawl with unease.

Someone asked in a low voice, "D-Daoist, why isn’t she making a sound?"

Taoist Huang had never experienced anything like this. In his mind, even if she was a mountain ghost or some other monster, she still had a body of flesh and blood. Being burned by fierce fire would definitely be unbearably painful. Even if her will was stronger than most, the agony of flesh searing—no one could endure that; there should at least be some reaction.

It wasn’t just that she looked like a dead person. Even Taoist Huang himself felt like he was burning a corpse.

By the time most of Shu Ci’s pretty face had been destroyed, red-burned blisters peeling grotesquely, that face was as good as utterly ruined.

Women are born to love beauty; even demons are no exception. Yet faced with this, Taoist Huang truly couldn’t sense even the slightest fluctuation in her emotions.

Her gaze was sharp and icy, and when she looked at him, it was as if she were looking at a dead man.

Clearly she had fallen into his hands now, and she was the one lying there waiting to be butchered. Yet at this moment, she looked more like some high-and-mighty superior watching a three-year-old child throw a tantrum.

Under that stare, Taoist Huang felt a chill run down his spine, his throat tightening, every hair on his body standing on end. He unconsciously turned his eyes away, not daring to continue meeting those pupils like deep, black pools of water.

With a slap he flung the torch aside and released his grip, letting Shu Ci’s limp body drop bonelessly to the ground.

He pointed a shaking finger at Shu Ci, his face twisted with extreme rage. "Monster! You really are a monster!"

When the crowd saw Shu Ci’s wretched appearance, they didn’t feel the slightest bit of pity. They only thought that such a terrifying visage looked even more ghastly, like an Evil Ghost, and one glance told you she wasn’t an ordinary person.

A trace of fear rose in their hearts. They all knew that if this strange woman was allowed to live, great disaster would surely fall on them.

"She must have drawn in some kind of demonic abomination! What normal person isn’t afraid of pain? Hurry and grab some firewood! Burn her to death!"

Taoist Huang barked orders in a low, heavy voice, and soon firewood was piled up around her. He strode over with a swagger and shouted harshly, "You harmful fiend, this Daoist already gave you a chance. You refuse to repent and continue harming others. The Heavenly Dao turns, and Heaven spares no one! This Daoist will slay this demon today and rid the world of your scourge for all living beings!" 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

He picked the torch up again. Looking at Shu Ci’s ruined face, his heart felt a moment of pity and then boundless satisfaction, a vicious light flickering in his eyes, even as his mouth kept chanting nothing but benevolence and righteousness.

"It’s just as well this face is ruined, saves you from using that seductively foxy face to go around bewitching men and harming them, cheating them out of their money! A shameless mug like this suits you best. This Daoist today..."

Before he could finish, a figure suddenly shot out from the crowd. Taoist Huang took a vicious punch to the face—his cheek caved in, bone cracking with a snap, his nose bridge literally knocked crooked. He let out a miserable howl and toppled over flat.

The sudden turn of events made everyone cry out in shock. They were about to surge forward to see which brazen bastard dared, in full view of everyone, to lay hands on the old immortal.

"You dare! How dare you lay hands on this Dao—" Taoist Huang clutched his completely caved-in, twisted face, nose blood gushing, tears spurting from the pain, yet he still didn’t forget to put on airs.

Just as he was about to get up, a foot came down hard on the wrist of the hand holding the torch.

He yelped again, feeling as if the bones in his wrist were being crushed to powder. He could no longer care about any lofty demeanor and hurriedly pleaded, "Lighter! Lighter! It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!"

The torch was snatched from his hand. In the next instant, heat flared across Taoist Huang’s cheek. When he opened his eyes, all he saw was a mass of roaring flame burning right in front of him.

"Ah! Ah!!" He was scared out of his wits, jerking his head back with all his strength, screeching like an old rooster with no regard for his image.

Baili An swung the torch in his hand with force. The faces of the crowd trying to press forward were all lit red by the firelight. Their expressions were filled with terror, and they didn’t dare come any closer.