Volume One: The Useless One Sets Out—Fiery Slash Against Demons Chapter Fifteen: The Ghostly Spirit Wan’er—Merging with the Ghost Eye

At this moment, the Taoist was barely clinging to life and collapsed onto the ground. Seeing this, the ghost spirit panicked. She had known from the very beginning that this was a Soul Entrapment Formation; now that the Taoist had fallen, who would close the formation? She hurried over and propped up the Taoist.

“Master, you mustn’t die! We’re still trapped in the Soul Entrapment Formation. If you die, how will we get out?” she pleaded.

The Taoist waved his hand weakly. “I’m not dead yet. Let me catch my breath first. Just help me sit cross-legged so I can regulate my energy.”

The villager possessed by the ghost spirit helped the Taoist sit down and wiped the sweat and blood from his face.

Chen San watched in bewilderment. What were these two men up to? Oh, look at the villager, so tender, caring for the Taoist like a worried little wife. The way he gazed at the Taoist made Chen San shudder, goosebumps prickling his skin.

The villager was named Qian Er, the second in his family. He had followed the Taoist to learn the arts and catch ghosts, hoping to make a living. Though most powerful Taoists suffered from five misfortunes and three deficiencies, it was still a better occupation than farming a few acres every day. As long as the deficiencies weren’t of wealth, life could be quite comfortable. Yet not everyone was suited to become a Taoist, and Qian Er was not particularly apt.

His master knew there was a vengeful ghost nearby, locking souls and taking lives. To counter it, he set up a complex Eight Trigrams Soul Entrapment Formation outside the village. Since the vengeful ghost could possess bodies, he added the secrets of divination to ensure absolute safety.

He feared the ghost would possess someone, making it impossible to destroy it; at least the formation would trap it until the sun rose, dispersing its soul.

But Qian Er was careless and lazy. The area was strewn with stones, and as the formation was nearly complete, he leaned against a rock and fell asleep. The vengeful ghost arrived and easily forced his soul out, occupying his body.

The Taoist had just finished setting up the formation when he noticed his disciple acting oddly—walking on tiptoes. That was a clear sign of possession. He kicked Qian Er to the ground, and the two fought for a long time. Qian Er’s size gave him the advantage, and the Taoist was overwhelmed.

Driven to fury, the vengeful ghost grabbed the Taoist and flung him into the Soul Entrapment Formation, following closely behind. This was the scene Chen San witnessed earlier—the Taoist sent flying from the roadside.

After watching this tender scene for a while, Chen San couldn’t stand it any longer. Since the Taoist seemed out of danger and the big fellow wasn’t attacking anymore, he gathered his courage and walked over.

“Ma-master Taoist, what’s going on? What are you two doing? I’ve been walking this road forever and can’t seem to get out!”

The Taoist was still regulating his energy and ignored Chen San. The ghost spirit, now in Qian Er’s body, turned to Chen San and explained, “I’m the ghost spirit who descended the mountain with you. Just now, this body was taken over by a vengeful ghost, and the master was gravely injured by it.”

Ghost spirit! Vengeful ghost? Chen San stared at Qian Er in disbelief.

“But the vengeful ghost has already been destroyed. I’m occupying this body now. Once the master recovers, he’ll summon Qian Er’s soul back,” she said.

Chen San finally understood: the ghost spirit he had wondered about these past few days had indeed been with him all along.

“No wonder you two go from fighting to acting all affectionate. But why can’t I get out of this road? Am I caught in an endless loop?”

The ghost spirit shook her head. “It’s not a loop, but a formation the master set to capture the vengeful ghost. Once he recovers and closes the formation, we’ll be able to leave.”

“Why did you come down the mountain with me? The old man wouldn’t explain, told me to ask you myself. And you never talked to me—I looked like a fool traveling alone. Couldn’t you at least keep me company?”

Coldly, the ghost spirit replied, “If it weren’t necessary, I wouldn’t talk to you. I followed you only to have you help me find my corpse.”

“Corpse?”

“My body was taken down the mountain by thieves a hundred years ago. I don’t know what they did to it, but I cannot reincarnate. I’ve been trapped in the mountain forest for over a century, until I met the old master who set up a formation to gather spiritual energy. That allowed me to become a ghost spirit.”

“But that was a hundred years ago. Where am I supposed to find your corpse now?”

“That’s why I follow you. The old master cast a divination for me. Our fates are intertwined, complementary, like fish and water. Only by following you down the mountain can I hope to reincarnate.”

Hearing this, Chen San became excited. “So you need my help, yet you won’t talk to me? If you don’t make me happy, I won’t help you find your corpse, hmph.” He turned his head with a pout.

Annoyed by his shamelessness, the ghost spirit managed only a single word, “You…”

After a moment, she continued, “I’ve grown accustomed to silence over the past century. If you want conversation, I’ll come out at night. But don’t regret it.”

Chen San nodded eagerly. “What’s there to regret? Traveling alone is dull. When something happens, I have no one to consult. I’m bored to death! By the way, can I see you? I need to know what you look like. Otherwise, even if your corpse stands right in front of me, I wouldn’t recognize it.”

“Haven’t you seen me already? I know what I look like.”

“I saw you, but not clearly. You scared me so much that day I didn’t have time to look at your face. Besides, we’ll eventually part ways. If you’re not around, I might miss it. Then how will you reincarnate?”

The ghost spirit hesitated. “I’ll merge one of my ghost eyes into your spiritual sense. You’ll be able to see me, but once I give you the ghost eye, it can’t be taken back. Eventually, it’ll fuse with your soul. Think carefully.”

“You’re giving me your eye, and you want me to consider?”

“I’m a ghost spirit; gathering spiritual energy, it takes decades to grow a ghost eye. It’s no great loss. With the ghost eye, not only will you see me, you might awaken spiritual wisdom, gaining insight into the cosmic order. It’s not just a trivial matter—think carefully.”

Chen San didn’t care about cosmic order or spiritual wisdom, nor did he understand what it meant. What did that have to do with him? He just wanted to see her a bit more. When he saw her spirit form before, her beauty was unforgettable. To be honest, just seeing her could make him eat an extra bowl of rice.

“Well, let’s do it then! What are we waiting for?”

“We’ll wait until the master recovers and summons the soul back to this body,” she said.

Once Chen San had an idea, he let his imagination run wild. He already pictured scenes of traveling with a beauty by his side—though he wondered if the ghost spirit bathed...

What Chen San didn’t expect was that a single ghost eye would bring him earth-shattering changes in the future. It gave him, an ordinary man with no spiritual foundation, the chance to see through the boundaries of yin and yang.

Soon, the Taoist slowly opened his eyes. After regulating his energy, his blood had settled. The external wounds could not be healed instantly—he was no immortal and would have to recuperate, but injuries were commonplace for those who fought demons.

The Taoist rose and bowed to his disciple, possessed by the ghost spirit. “I must thank you, young lady. Were it not for your help, I would surely be dead. Words cannot express my gratitude. May I assist you in finding your corpse as repayment for saving my life?”

The ghost spirit replied indifferently, “There’s no need. I didn’t save you, I saved him. Only he can help me find my corpse. If you wish to help, break the Soul Entrapment Formation and summon his soul back. Return his body so we can continue our journey.”

“Since that is so, I won’t insist. I’ll break the formation now.”

The Taoist began to draw on the ground with his foot, glancing at the moon while sketching the eight trigrams. Soon, a large eight trigrams appeared before them. He walked to the Kan position and thrust the remaining half of his peach wood sword into the earth, then pulled it out.

He then moved to the Kun position, repeating the act. After both actions, nothing seemed to happen.

The Taoist stood and announced, “The Soul Entrapment Formation is broken. We can leave.”

Chen San was skeptical. Was the formation broken just by poking the ground twice? Had the Taoist lost his mind from blood loss?

No need to doubt—Chen San was simply ignorant of divination. The Taoist had pierced the formation’s critical points in order; breaking these points dissolved the formation entirely, like a body losing its soul. The illusions and divination effects vanished, so they could simply follow the path and leave.

The Taoist then turned to Qian Er. “Young lady, please exit this body so I may summon his soul.”

The ghost spirit promptly slipped out of Qian Er’s body, and Qian Er collapsed. The Taoist caught him, turned him over, and kicked the back of his knees, helping him sit cross-legged.

The Taoist stripped off Qian Er’s shirt, bit his finger, and drew a talisman in blood on his back. Chen San watched, feeling heartbroken for the Taoist—such a large talisman required so much blood.

Once finished, the Taoist raised his fingers and recited an incantation. When he finished, he drew a semicircle with his hand and slapped Qian Er’s back, then switched to a claw and pulled backward. Qian Er reacted immediately.

His head tilted back, his chest glowed faintly gold, as if he were absorbing something. Soon, a shadowy figure was drawn from afar.

Upon seeing the shadow, the Taoist formed seals with his hands. The shadow drifted to Qian Er, and as it touched him, Qian Er jerked up. The Taoist, prepared, pressed his palm to the crown of Qian Er’s head, pushing him back down.

With his soul returned, the Taoist sighed in relief, limped over, and shook Qian Er’s shoulder. Qian Er looked up, called out “Master,” and promptly fainted again.

The Taoist nodded, weary, and turned to Chen San, bowing.

“Young man, I am injured—could you help me carry my disciple back to the village? You must be tired as well. You may rest in the village.”

Chen San inwardly rolled his eyes at the Taoist’s smooth-talking request—he could talk his way into anything.

Yet, there was no one else to help, so he and the Taoist supported Qian Er toward the nearby village. To their surprise, they spotted the village after just a few steps.

Dawn was breaking. Chen San, supporting Qian Er, headed straight for the village chief’s house.

The chief was an old man living alone; his wife had passed early, and both daughters were married. The Taoist knocked, and the chief, seeing the group, exclaimed and hurried to help them inside.

He had Chen San lay Qian Er on his bed, and Chen San, exhausted, collapsed on the edge, panting. Qian Er was as heavy as an ox, making it a challenge for Chen San. The chief quickly poured tea for them, bustling about before finally conversing with the Taoist.

Patiently, the Taoist explained everything. Learning that the vengeful ghost had been destroyed, the chief wept with gratitude. Clearly, the ghost’s misdeeds had plagued the village for a long time, causing many deaths. After giving thanks, he urged Chen San and the Taoist to rest while he slaughtered a hen to nourish them.

Chen San, delighted at the prospect of food, glanced at Qian Er in the inner room and asked, “Master, how is he? He woke up, called you ‘Master,’ then fainted again. Is he alright?”

The Taoist nodded with difficulty. “He just returned his soul. He’s weak, but after half a day’s rest and a meal, he’ll recover. It’s nothing serious.” Relieved, Chen San began chatting idly with the Taoist.

Half an hour later, the chief brought a large pot of chicken soup and plenty of buns and sweet potatoes. Chen San’s eyes lit up—after a night’s journey, he was famished. Before the chief could speak, he grabbed a drumstick and devoured it.

The chief and Taoist laughed, reminding him to eat slowly. With Chen San wolfing down his meal, the food was gone in no time, leaving only bones.

Burping, Chen San asked, “Master, how do I get to Mount Mao? Could you point me the way?”

The Taoist perked up at the question. “Are you seeking to learn the Tao on Mount Mao?”

Chen San waved his hand, dismissing the idea. “No, no. There’s a demon in my hometown, and I need to find the head of Mount Mao, Master Taoyuan, to resolve the issue.”

Startled, the Taoist exclaimed, “Master Taoyuan? What manner of demon requires him to descend in person? Please, tell me more.”

Chen San sighed and recounted the events with dramatic flair.

The Taoist listened, shocked speechless by the mention of a great demon. It took him a moment to recover, only returning to his senses when Chen San waved a hand before him.

“Young man, I wonder if there’s any way I can assist you?”

Before he could finish, the Taoist coughed several times, nearly spitting blood. Chen San hurriedly waved him off.

“No, no, Master, your kindness is appreciated, but you should focus on healing. There is one thing you could help with, though—do you have any money? Mine was stolen, and I don’t know how far I have to go. If you have any, could you lend me some? I’ll repay you if I get the chance.”

Hearing this, the Taoist looked embarrassed. “Young man, I’m truly penniless.” He fished two copper coins from his sleeve and handed them to Chen San.

Chen San stared in disbelief—two coins would barely buy a few buns, but shamelessly took them anyway.

The chief chimed in, “Young man, I have no money, but I can prepare some rations for your journey.”

Chen San, feeling rescued, gripped the old chief’s hand in gratitude, nearly hugging him. Soon, the chief gathered a bundle of rations from the village.

Chen San lounged in the chief’s house most of the day. Before dinner, he set out again, perhaps embarrassed to eat another meal after already receiving so much.

Back on the main road, he walked with a bundle of rations and a torch, eating as he went, muttering to himself—though really speaking to the ghost spirit. As he walked, his vision began to blur.

Night had fallen, the moon often obscured by clouds, making it dark. Gradually, Chen San could barely see. He muttered, wondering what was happening, and made his way to a roadside pavilion, where he sat down, shook his head, rubbed his eyes, and looked around, still seeing nothing but haze.

It was hot and muggy, so he thought he might have caught a fever. After resting, he left the pavilion, following the sound of a stream. Splashing water on his face cooled him down and his sight cleared a bit, though it remained misty, and he couldn’t see far.

Drinking a few mouthfuls, Chen San was tempted to bathe, but remembered the girl who jumped into the river days ago—the one whose coffin chased him down the street—and grew timid, swallowing his fear and preparing to leave.

Turning around, he suddenly saw a ghostly pale woman standing behind him, staring at him in the dead of night. Chen San stumbled backward, landing on the ground and nearly falling into the water. The shock left the burly young man paralyzed, unable to move.