I'm a Taoist Priest in the Late Qing Dynasty, Just Trying to Get By

During the Tongzhi era, the flames of war had yet to die out. The world was falling apart, and livelihoods everywhere were in decline.

At the Ten-Thousand-Methods Ancestral Altar on Mount Longhu, Wang Chongxuan, a Daoist of the twenty-first generation of the Chong line of the Zhengyi Three Mountains Bloodline Sect, kept watch over a remote mountain temple whose incense had gone cold. The temple's stores of grain were exhausted, and even keeping body and soul together had become difficult. With no other choice, he locked the temple gates, said farewell to the place he had called home, and descended the mountain to wander the mortal world.

He roamed the countryside in a chaotic age, initially seeking nothing more than to drift from place to place and earn enough to eat. But in the late Qing, evil spirits gathered across the land, vengeful ghosts and wild specters ran rampant, and strange, sinister events arose one after another. Armed with the complete Zhengyi art of talismans and exorcism, Wang Chongxuan traveled from place to place, trying to survive and put food on the table while stepping in to resolve supernatural calamities in the villages.

He drove out vengeful ghosts, defeated baleful spirits, and settled eerie disturbances, witnessing all the suffering and strangeness of life in a world at war.

In the turbulent final years of the Qing, a Daoist struggling to make a living set out on a supernatural journey filled with the uncanny.