Volume One: The Useless Sets Out, Blazing Demon Slayer Chapter Nine: Chen San’s Soul Fusion, A Perilous Situation

Wang the Taoist followed the old man down the mountain, carrying Chen San’s soul, which the old man had sealed within a gourd, with them. The climb up had taken nearly two days due to the treacherous mountain paths and the search for people, but the descent was far smoother; in less than a day, they reached the town of the Chen family.

As they approached the town, both Wang the Taoist and the old man were stunned by the scene before them. The old man drew a sharp, cold breath. Even before they set foot in the town, the mist in the surrounding forests had grown thicker and heavier, and upon arrival, they found the whole of Chen Family Town enveloped in a dense, cotton-like fog. It was almost impossible to see one’s hand before one’s face, hardly different from the deepest night. Alarmed, both men frowned deeply.

Wang the Taoist was at a complete loss. “Master, I’ve only been gone three days, yet the fog is denser and colder than ever. It seems the omens were true; surely, some great demon is at work here.”

The old man gazed into the swirling mist in the distance, his brows knitted. “Let’s rescue Chen San first. His soul must be reunited with his body immediately, or we’ll be too late. We must go to his house now—I’ll prepare the soul-merging ritual.”

“Very well, Master, this way. Chen San’s house is nearby. Before I left, I asked a mother and daughter from the town to look after him. I hope nothing has happened.”

Wang the Taoist led the way, the old man following in thoughtful silence. Soon, they arrived at Chen San’s home. Wang knocked on the door, and Chen Xin came to open it. The sight of Wang and the elderly man banished much of the exhaustion and worry from her face; tears welled up as she exclaimed in delight, “Wang Taoist, you really brought a great Daoist adept! Does this mean Chen San can be saved?”

Wang nodded. “He can be saved. Chen San will live, and so will the town!”

He respectfully invited the old man inside. The old man entered, surveyed the empty house, and shook his head. Aunt Nian rose to greet them as well; the lines of fatigue and sorrow etched on her face made her seem to have aged years in just a few days.

The old man approached Chen San’s body, studying it before forming a hand seal with his right hand and touching Chen San’s forehead.

He looked at Chen San in surprise, then turned to Wang the Taoist. “Why is the fate of heaven and earth upon him? Did you use any special magic before you left?”

Wang shook his head apologetically, forcing a bitter smile. “Master, I’m afraid I know little of the arcane arts. When I was learning the Dao on Mount Mao, my master gave me three ancient Qin dynasty coins, each imbued with the founding fortune of the dynasty. I placed one in Chen San’s mouth, hoping it might protect his remaining souls.”

The old man nodded in understanding. “You were thoughtful. With this blessing, this small haven is shielded, for now, from evil influences. There’s no time to lose—let’s begin.”

He loosened Chen San’s clothing, removed the cloth from his mouth, bit his own finger, and used his blood to swiftly draw a talisman across Chen San’s upper body. Chen Xin and her mother, along with Wang, withdrew to a safe distance, careful not to disturb the ritual.

Finished with the blood talisman, the old man took a yellow charm and affixed it to Chen San’s forehead—a soul-calming seal, for Chen San’s soul was unstable. Taking no chances, the old man ensured it was firmly in place.

He then unfastened the gourd from his belt and, seeing only the dim light of two oil lamps in the room, removed the stopper. Chen San’s soul emerged and fell to the floor with a thud.

Seeing Chen Xin and her mother, Chen San’s face lit up with joy. He hurried to grasp Chen Xin’s hand, only to realize midway that, in his spirit form, they could not see or feel him. He managed an awkward, sheepish smile, then turned to the old man.

The old man smiled slightly, closed his eyes, raised his hands, and began to form seals, chanting the soul-merging incantation.

“By the Way, let the soul return to its vessel; three souls unite, seven spirits gather. Announce to Heaven above, to the Netherworld below—by urgent command, let it be so.”

As he chanted and performed the ritual steps, the old man pressed the yellow charm on Chen San’s forehead once more. Chen San, still entranced by Chen Xin’s delicate and pitiable face—though she looked more weary now, her gentle beauty was unchanged—found himself suddenly drawn by an irresistible force back into his body.

Seeing the ritual succeed, the old man quickly tore off the yellow paper, pried open Chen San’s mouth, retrieved the ancient coin, and returned it to Wang the Taoist, who wiped it on his sleeve and tucked it away. Chen Xin obediently returned her own coin as well.

The moment Chen San’s soul reentered his body, a wave of unprecedented weakness swept over him. His bones ached, his limbs were powerless; it took a long time before he could even open his eyes and clench his fists.

The old man, satisfied that Chen San was awake, instructed Chen Xin and her mother to prepare some food for him—after three days without sustenance, he needed nourishment to recover.

Chen Xin, wiping away tears, nodded and hurried out. Wang the Taoist, too, grinned with relief at seeing Chen San revived.

The old man did not rest; he went outside and used Daoist charms and red cord to set up a barrier around the house. After half a stick of incense’s time, Chen Xin returned, carrying some dry rations from home. Though startled by the thick white mist outside, she had lived here nearly twenty years and could find her way blindfolded. She poured water and helped Chen San eat.

The old man came in to check on Chen San, who, apart from his weakness, was otherwise unharmed. Relieved, he nodded.

Chen Xin asked in amazement, “Why is the fog outside so thick? If I hadn’t lived here so long, I’d never have found my way home.”

“That’s why I went up the mountain for help,” Wang replied gloomily. “The master has come down to deal with the evil haunting the town.”

The old man pinched his fingers in calculation. “This fog is unnatural, perhaps linked to an ancient demon of enchantment. If I’m not mistaken, that ancient demon is sealed beneath this very town.”

Wang swallowed nervously and listened intently while Chen San nibbled his bread.

Chen Xin asked in awe, “Then was my father’s death also the work of this ancient demon?”

“If it had escaped, there would not be a single living soul left in Chen Family Town. I could not defeat such a monster. More likely, the seal has weakened and its evil leaks out, or other spirits are at work. We must first investigate—who was the first to die, and where did they live?”

“My father,” Chen Xin replied, “He collapsed in the main room during the night. We found him dead by morning. We live at the east end of town, the first house by the road.”

“And the second death—who and where?”

Wang answered, “The neighbor, Chen Wanfuk, found dead in bed.”

“And the third was Chen San?” the old man asked.

Wang nodded. “Yes, the third was Chen San. I’m not sure if it’s related to his helping carry the coffin for the elderly.”

“How so? He helped with the coffin?”

“Yes, there was one pallbearer short, so he volunteered. I had no other way but to let him help, as the burial was urgent…”

“That explains it—it must have clashed with his fate. Let’s go and see. You two ladies stay here with Chen San. My barriers will keep you safe for now.”

Chen Xin and her mother nodded, and Chen San, still weak, agreed silently.

“I’ll lead the way,” said Wang.

The two men stepped outside. Though it was daytime, the world was shrouded in white mist. The old man fetched two sticks from the cowshed, tied some straw atop them, and produced a yellow talisman, holding it between two fingers before the sticks. With a thought, the straw burst into flame with a boom. He handed one to Wang, and they set off toward Chen Xin’s house.

Though the people of Chen Family Town were simple folk, recent events had left them wary; every household kept its doors tightly shut. Chen Xin’s house, however, was now empty, the door simply pulled to.

They entered, but found nothing amiss—just an unnatural chill, which, given the circumstances, was hardly unusual.

Afterward, they visited Chen Wanfuk’s house. Passing between the two homes, the old man paused, eyeing the path leading to the back hills: dark, white with mist, and swept by bitter winds, though the fog itself did not disperse.

He murmured, “The trouble may lie along this path to the back hills. Let’s check Chen Wanfuk’s house.”

After a few steps, Wang nodded and knocked on Chen Wanfuk’s door. After several tries, there was no answer.

The old man’s face grew grave, his brow furrowing. “Could the residents have left? Or perhaps died within…”

Wang, alarmed, kicked the door open. They searched the house, finding no one, and entered the main room.

At the threshold, the old man sensed a wandering soul within. He forced the door open. On the bed lay a woman, her body already reeking of decay, her spirit drifting nearby.

Wang could not see the soul—only the corpse of Chen Wanfuk’s wife, Aunt Fu. He moved to enter but the old man stopped him with a raised hand.

The old man addressed the spirit. “I am a Daoist. Do you know why you died here?”

Wang was momentarily puzzled, then realized: the master could see Aunt Fu’s soul and was speaking to it. He was even more astonished that the elder needed no special incantation to perceive spirits. Could he be one of those rare men born with Ghost Eyes, able to see both worlds? A cold sweat broke out as Wang’s respect for the old man grew tenfold.

Aunt Fu’s spirit did not reply, merely drifting back and forth beside her corpse, seemingly bereft of consciousness or will.

The old man tried again. “Do you know who you are?”

Still, the spirit wandered aimlessly. Seeing no response, the old man took out his gourd, bit his finger, and smeared blood on a dark amulet. The moment the blood touched, Aunt Fu’s spirit was drawn into the gourd. He sealed it and explained what had happened to Wang.

Wang sighed in relief—thank goodness he had found such a master; otherwise, the town would truly be doomed.

“Let’s go to the mayor’s house. In your absence, he should know most of what’s happened; we can learn more from him.”

The two set off for the mayor’s house in the western part of town. The journey was eerily silent. Wang, uneasy, asked about it.

The old man replied calmly, “You’re right, it’s deathly still. You mean the sounds of livestock and birds?”

“Yes, the birds. When I left, the town’s poultry were dying off one by one. Could they all be gone now?”

“Judging by this mist, it’s not just the poultry that’s been wiped out… Well, let’s reach the mayor’s house first.” He broke off, shaking his head, and they quickened their pace.

Navigating through the thick fog, they finally arrived. Rows of houses stood locked and silent; only the two of them moved through the streets. Wang knocked on the mayor’s door, but there was no response. He knocked harder.

“Who’s there?”

Wang breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s me, Wang the Taoist. I’ve brought the master.”

There was a rush of footsteps and the door creaked open. The mayor, haggard and anxious, brightened at the sight of the visitors. Without a word, he ushered them inside and shut the door behind them.

In the dimly lit hall, Wang introduced the old man. The mayor bowed and offered them seats and tea.

“You’re finally back. If you’d stayed away any longer, there’d be no Chen Family Town left.”

The old man asked, “What do you mean?”

The mayor shook his head and sighed. “After Wang the Taoist went up the mountain, several people died in the night, just as before—passing away in their sleep. Their families came to tell me, but I had no solution but to let them keep the bodies at home until you returned. All morning, the deaths kept mounting. By noon, we discovered that every chicken and duck in town was dead—every last one.” The mayor beat his knee in distress.

“How many living remain? Why haven’t you taken shelter in neighboring villages?”

Wang was equally anxious. “I told you before I left to seek safety elsewhere!”

“People have left, but too late—only after seeing so many deaths. Most were reluctant to abandon their homes, not realizing the danger. Now, perhaps twenty or thirty households remain, mostly the elderly and those with nowhere else to go.”

The old man listened, frowning. Passing through the town, they had seen more than a hundred homes, and now only a few dozen still lived.

“The situation is graver than we thought. We must go door to door and gather the survivors, shelter them together for now.”