Volume One: The Journey of the Useless, Blazing Demon-Slaying Chapter Twenty-Two: Requiem for the Spirit, The Wandering Soul Returns

Hearing what Chen San said, Yang Chengzi asked, “What animal do you think it resembles?”

Chen San propped his chin, pondering aloud. “A dog's tail isn’t this thick; a rabbit's tail isn’t this long; I’ve never seen a white weasel; a cat’s tail isn’t this large either. Still, it seems familiar, but I can’t place it.”

Yang Chengzi furrowed his brow. “Could it be a white fox’s tail?”

Chen San straightened his neck, nodding repeatedly, “Yes, yes, a white fox’s tail—that’s why it’s so big.”

“Then there’s no mistake. It must be the tail of a white fox that lived for a hundred years, but for some reason died before gaining enlightenment, with no one to guide its spirit. Its bones, nourished by spiritual energy during life, were preserved so beautifully. Now, made into an ornament and worn on the body, if it were a man, it wouldn’t matter. But a woman’s body, with its monthly cycle, is bound to be tainted by the impurity of menstruation, causing the spirit within the bones to stray into the path of demons. Thankfully, we discovered it early. The spirit is now entwined with her soul; we must find a way to separate them.”

Chang Qingsong, listening nearby, was terrified, sweating profusely, his hands trembling. Chang Yu’s mother was so anxious she stamped her feet. Yang Chengzi turned to Chang Qingsong, troubled. “Master Chang, to resolve this completely…” He stopped mid-sentence.

Chang Qingsong, a merchant of many years, had encountered countless people and immediately sensed Yang Chengzi’s hesitation. Thinking Yang Chengzi wanted money but was too shy to ask, he hurriedly said, “Master Yang, please rest assured. As long as you can save my daughter, I will reward you generously. She is my only child, and even if it costs all my wealth, I would not hesitate. Please, save her.”

Yang Chengzi shook his head, “Master Chang, it’s not a matter of money. The situation is urgent. To save your daughter, I must draw talismans. The spirit in this bone has fallen into the demon path. To truly separate it, I must draw a soul-calming and demon-expelling talisman directly on her body.”

Chang Qingsong’s eyes widened, “You mean, directly on her skin? Her whole body?”

Yang Chengzi nodded, “Yes, the entire body must be marked, otherwise the spirit will escape to other parts. This concerns Miss Chang’s reputation, and I am a Daoist, unable to marry her. Please discuss it with your wife.”

Chang Qingsong’s face darkened, anxiously looking at his wife. If word spread, Chang Yu would never marry, and if she woke to find her body had been seen by a stranger, who knows what she might do. At this moment, Madam Chang cried out, “She’s at death’s door—save her first, we’ll worry later.”

After much deliberation, Chang Qingsong made up his mind, “Very well, please save my daughter, Master Yang. I’ll never forget this kindness; there will be a great reward.” He clasped his hands in thanks.

Yang Chengzi nodded, “No reward is necessary. Master Chang, please prepare a peach wood sword for this young man. We have important matters ahead, and a peach wood sword may be useful.”

“Very well, I’ll send someone to buy the finest peach wood sword. Please, save my daughter.”

Master Chang instructed his servants to prepare rooster’s blood and a peach wood sword as Yang Chengzi requested. Soon, both items were brought. The peach wood sword was handed to Chen San; the rooster’s blood and talisman brush to Yang Chengzi. Yang Chengzi kept Madam Chang to help undress Chang Yu, while the others left.

Inside, only the three remained. Looking closely, even though Chang Yu’s face was pale and she perspired heavily, her features were exquisite, a beauty of ethereal charm.

“Madam Chang, please remove all your daughter’s clothing and lay her flat on the bed. I need to prepare.”

Yang Chengzi stood by the door, closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, and recited a calming incantation to steady his mind. Truth be told, he had never seen a woman’s body before; although a Daoist, he was still young and full of vigor, his heart restless. Only after half an incense stick’s time did he begin to draw the soul-calming talisman on Chang Yu’s body with rooster’s blood.

Throughout, his eyes fixed only on the brush tip, with not a hint of impure thought. The process took another half incense stick’s time. Outside, Chen San was nearly asleep waiting, while Master Chang paced anxiously, never sitting.

Once the talisman was complete, it seeped into her body and soon the blood marks vanished. Yang Chengzi covered Chang Yu with a quilt, asked Madam Chang to hold her down, and began chanting the exorcism spell.

After only a few lines, Chang Yu cried out in pain, struggling violently. Her mother pinned her down, preventing movement. Soon, the item around Chang Yu’s neck fell onto the bed, and she ceased struggling, then fainted. Madam Chang, alarmed, turned to Yang Chengzi.

Yang Chengzi sensed a faint demonic aura, nodded, and carefully picked up the fallen object. Indeed, it was a bone nurtured by spirit, translucent like white jade, flawless and pure, clearly not an ordinary item. Its weight, compared to fine jade, was no less exquisite, imparting a sense of purity.

Upon closer inspection, the bone, now jade-like, bore fine dark red cracks spreading across its surface—evidence of contamination by impurity, just as he suspected.

“Miss Chang should be fine now. She’s weak, but with some nourishment, she’ll recover.”

Yang Chengzi held the beast bone, gave Madam Chang a few instructions, and left. In the outer hall, Master Chang hurried over, “Master Yang, how is she? Will my daughter survive?”

“She’s safe. Take good care of her, and she’ll recover. The spirit is separated from her soul, and the exorcism talisman within her will protect her for at least two years. During this time, no ordinary evil can harm her. I’ll now guide the spirit onward.”

Master Chang breathed a great sigh of relief, a smile breaking through tears. “Master Yang, you truly possess divine powers. You’ve saved my daughter today, and I don’t know how to repay this debt. If you have any requests, just say the word; if I can manage it, I’ll do my utmost.”

Yang Chengzi politely clasped his hands, “Maoshan’s duty is to subdue evil and save the people. Saving Miss Chang today is due to her own fortune; I merely did my part. No need to repay. The peach wood sword you provided is more than enough.”

“Well… Since that’s the case, I won’t insist. If you ever need my help, just ask. You and your companion are welcome to stay here for a few days so I can properly host you and express my gratitude.”

Yang Chengzi declined politely, and after a few pleasantries, bid farewell to Master Chang.

As soon as they were back on the road, Chen San complained, “Had I known, we wouldn’t have needed to tell fortunes for travel expenses. Solving Master Chang’s problem and asking him for a few days’ expenses would be just as fair. Poor me, like a broker, bringing clients all over town for you. It’s hardly worth it.”

Yang Chengzi laughed, “Perhaps it’s fate. The talents heaven gave you shouldn’t be wasted. Maybe you’re born for this.”

“Yes, yes, I’m a broker; I bring you clients. As the saying goes, only family enters the same door.”

Yang Chengzi pretended not to understand and kept walking. Chen San caught up, asking, “Hey, what will you do with that bone? Should we break it with the sword? You’ve been holding it all the way—are you afraid it’ll run off?”

Yang Chengzi shook his head, “It can’t escape now, but it’s absorbed so much impurity it’s nearly become a demon. It was a white fox with a rare fate, not meant to die like this, but destiny is destiny. I told you before: even guiding spirits depends on karma. Today we’ll find a place with good feng shui, purify its impurity, and lay it to rest. Perhaps its remaining spiritual energy will nourish this land.”

Chen San nodded, “It’s certainly fate; this fox’s luck was to meet you. If its spirit became a demon, does it bear the blame?”

“Not necessarily. If the fox’s soul has already reincarnated, then there’s no connection. If not, it may still be affected by this spirit. Either way, let’s find a place for the ritual.”

The two walked along the main road for several hours, eventually reaching a small stream beside a bamboo grove.

Yang Chengzi looked around and nodded, “This is a place where the mountain stops and water gathers, rich in spiritual energy. Let’s perform the ritual here. If there’s still fate, perhaps this is the right spot.”

Chen San sat on a stone, waiting as Yang Chengzi began the ritual. Yang Chengzi placed the spirit bone on a flat rock, sat cross-legged, and recited the Daoist ritual to guide the spirit.

After half an incense stick’s time, Yang Chengzi took a talisman from his robe, held it between two fingers, focused his mind, set the talisman alight, and placed the burning paper over the spirit bone. When the talisman burned out, the bone vanished.

Chen San glanced over, startled, “Did you burn it away?”

Yang Chengzi frowned, replying disdainfully, “It’s here, sealed within the stone.”

Chen San quickly knelt to inspect, and sure enough, a white pattern in the shape of the spirit bone appeared on the stone.

“No wonder Maoshan Daoists are powerful—even the ashes are gone.”

“Let’s go. Another day’s journey and we’ll reach Pan’an Village. After that, we’ll be at Hanshan Temple.”

Chen San shrugged, picked up the peach wood sword, and together they returned to the main road, heading toward Hanshan Temple.

With travel expenses in hand, Chen San began thinking about how to spend the money, recalling how much they earned from reading fortunes for young women. In truth, whether Yang Chengzi’s fortunes were accurate or not didn’t matter; the girls always found him charming and refined, and those who came for readings were often smitten at first sight, hoping for a chance to speak with him.

Moreover, Yang Chengzi was not only pleasant to look at, but his fortune-telling was so precise it seemed as if past events floated before his eyes—there was nothing to criticize.

Yang Chengzi wasn’t foolish. For those girls whose fate held calamity—family decline, early death—he would subtly weave solutions into their future destinies, suggesting marriage far away or acts of charity. If misfortune could be resolved, he did so readily; if not, it was a matter of fate, with too many karmic debts for him to intervene.

The girls were utterly captivated—everything Yang Chengzi said was right in their eyes.

Yet Yang Chengzi himself, though pursued, remained unmoved. His Daoist heart was steadfast; while he read their fortunes, he felt nothing, whether the girls were beautiful or plain. His heart was still water, untouched by the slightest ripple.

It wasn’t that the girls weren’t attractive, but Yang Chengzi had always been different since childhood—his soul strong, his aura deep, indifferent to worldly things, a mystery even to Grandmaster Guangyuan. Even after more than ten years on the mountain, until Grandmaster Guangyuan passed on, Yang Chengzi’s nature remained inscrutable.

As they walked, Chen San and Yang Chengzi chatted about life on Maoshan and past adventures subduing demons. Time passed quickly, and soon night fell; they hadn’t reached Pan’an Village, and the area was desolate—they would have to sleep outdoors again.

Chen San, away from Chen Family Town for over ten days, had endured plenty of northwestern winds, often sleeping by a fire in the wild.

As darkness settled, they built a fire and pressed onward with torches. After more than an hour, exhausted and hungry, Chen San regretted, “We’ve got money, but didn’t buy any food. Now, with silver in hand, there’s nowhere to eat in this wilderness—can’t even see a ghost.”

“Don’t mention ghosts at night. If you don’t want them to pay you a visit, don’t talk about them after dark. Ghosts, having crossed to the other side, are sensitive to yin energy. Some people, with a weaker fate, mentioning ghosts at night is almost like summoning spirits. Night brings heavier yin energy; ghosts drift farther. When there’s human aura, they avoid it, but here, in the wild and with yin gathering, talk of ghosts changes things.”

Chen San stared wide-eyed at the surroundings. “I only said it casually, but you keep going on about ghosts. Well, now they’re really here. Is it you calling them, or me?”

Yang Chengzi sensed the approach of spirits, frowning, “I only spoke offhand—how are they taking it seriously?”

As ghosts gathered, Yang Chengzi closed his eyes to sense them, while Chen San gripped the peach wood sword, standing back to back with him.

Yang Chengzi realized, as before by the stream, these were lonely wandering spirits, numerous and not simply summoned by a few words. He began to suspect that Chen San carried something that attracted them.

“Chen San, do you have something strange on you? Why are these wandering spirits always drawn to you?”

Chen San was startled, “Aren’t they coming for you? You were talking about ghosts more than me.”

“This many spirits don’t gather just from idle talk. I’m a Daoist, with Daoist blood and a Shangqing sword. These ghosts must be after you—this is the second time. If you don’t carry some evil thing, then you must have desecrated their ancestors’ graves. Do you do such things?”

Chen San found Yang Chengzi’s theory increasingly absurd and retorted, “You’re the one digging graves! How could I dig so many? I only have two sets of clothes and a peach wood sword—what evil thing could I have?”

Yang Chengzi considered this, but according to his knowledge, ghosts gather in two cases without incantations: either someone is chanting, which Chen San wasn’t, or someone attracts them. These wandering spirits posed no threat, but why did they keep coming?

Determined to find out, Yang Chengzi told Chen San, “Stay here, don’t move. Let me see what these ghosts want. Wandering spirits shouldn’t pose any real threat.”

Chen San was incredulous, “You’re using me as bait?”

“They’re here for you. Don’t worry—you won’t die with me here. I want to know why these spirits keep seeking you out.” With that, Yang Chengzi leapt back dozens of steps.

Chen San sat cross-legged, holding the peach wood sword, and began reciting the King of Brightness Soul-Calming Spell.

The ghosts continued to gather, and as Yang Chengzi suspected, they drifted toward Chen San, surrounding him. Yang Chengzi was puzzled—Chen San was a young man, full of yang energy. Even if the ghosts’ yin temporarily subdued his yang, it should still be impossible for them to possess him. What did they want?

After half an incense stick’s time, most spirits hovered within three steps of Chen San, forming a ghostly shroud around him, yet there was no danger.

Chen San remained still, waiting for Yang Chengzi to return and explain, but after a long time, there was still no answer.

Suddenly, Yang Chengzi recalled the black-robed woman in the woods who came for revenge—she was seeking Chen San. Could it be related? If it was vengeance, Chen San must have killed an evil sorcerer before, likely using spirit-summoning techniques, which would explain the black-robed woman’s vendetta.

No wonder the peach wood sword was lost—it must have been misplaced during a fight. That means Chen San carries a spell or mark left by the sorcerer, which attracts wandering spirits.