Chapter 333: Lao Li: I Never Taught That!

After ransacking the He family mansion, where few were still alive, Feng Xue returned home and took the giant ice block out of the Hutian Bag. Though it was common knowledge that living things could not be placed inside the Hutian Bag, Mo Ying, who had personally experienced its interior, said it wasn’t truly impossible—just immensely taxing on the spirit.

Such a burden could force even a spirit ghost into self-imposed isolation for days; a living person would likely suffer immediate mental collapse.

But Feng Xue didn’t care whether the giant ice block’s mind was intact—or rather, if it did collapse, that would be even better, since it would help…

“Huh? Failed?” Feng Xue frowned as no 【Ghost-Muddled Mind】 tag appeared above the ice block’s head. “Interesting. Even frozen solid, he’s still resisting? Back in battle, I didn’t think his will was that strong.”

“No, I don’t think it’s resistance. It feels more like… I can’t get in at all.” As the source of ghostly energy, Mo Ying circled the ice block twice, offering this speculation.

“Can’t get in? Is there some kind of brain-sealing barrier? Or has he been sealed by something?”

Feng Xue tapped the ice-hard skull like a watermelon. This spell, adapted from a mage’s freezer technique in the game world, maximized the target’s helplessness without killing him—but once cast, the spell could not be undone.

“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel like defense. More like he was possessed first by something else.” Mo Ying struggled to describe the sensation, offering only a vague guess. Feng Xue grew even more confused:

“Didn’t you just slap that spirit out of the shikigami earlier?”

“That’s exactly why I’m puzzled. Possession isn’t first-come, first-served. If I’m stronger, I should be able to drag the intruder out. But now, I can’t even tell if the thing exists.”

Mo Ying seemed to have exhausted his vocabulary, gesturing wildly with his hands. Feng Xue narrowed his eyes, thought for a moment, then said directly:

“Little Bell, create an electronic spirit fragment.”

“Yes, Master. This one was previously used on the drone—use it for now. If it gets damaged, I’ll make a new one.” Little Bell immediately extracted a spirit fragment from the drone. Feng Xue held the fragment, clearly lacking the vitality of Mo Ying, and placed it atop the giant ice block’s head.

He then opened the Hutian Bag, took out a folding fan, and unfurled it gently. The blank surface spread before him. Feng Xue turned to Mo Ying and said:

“This is your chance to show off your talent. Write a few characters.”

“Got it! What should I write?” Mo Ying instantly stuck himself to the fan’s surface, seemingly pondering which calligraphy style would best match the fan’s material.

“Invoking Spell.”

“Pfft!” At the content, Mo Ying lost all enthusiasm, seized the brush, and dashed off a wild cursive script.

But being a cultured ghost, he didn’t slack off. When the final stroke landed, the characters carried a certain spirit. Feng Xue carefully blew on the ink to dry it, then channeled his spiritual power, twisting his wrist like whipping a horsewhip, humming under his breath—

“Zeng zeng leng zeng leng zeng leng zeng zeng ah~ Zeng zeng leng zeng leng zeng leng…”

Midway through the chant, he spun sharply and swung the fan with the force of a chopping axe, smashing it into the ice block’s forehead—driving Little Bell’s spirit fragment half an inch inside!

“What kind of chant is that?” Liu Yunxi, who had watched the whole thing, couldn’t help asking. Feng Xue shook his numb hand and replied:

“Spirit descent has civil and martial forms. Normally we use the ‘inviting’ method—that’s civil. Today, civil won’t work, so we go martial!”

Saying that, he struck three more times, hammering Little Bell’s spirit fragment deep into the ice block’s skull.

Luckily, it was a bamboo-framed paper fan. Had it been redwood, the man would’ve been dead.

But Feng Xue didn’t care. He hadn’t improvised this method—he’d adapted it from Lao Li’s techniques.

According to Lao Li, those who drown are often the ones who can swim. When shamans invoke spirits or consult the dead, they sometimes encounter stubborn entities refusing to leave the body. So he taught Feng Xue a method to expel them.

Unlike invocation, those summoned by expulsion techniques are rarely benevolent—so no need for politeness. The possessed person suffers, but all you do is link the spirit’s essence to the host, then strike it repeatedly with attacks infused with willpower. Most ghosts flee under such treatment—that’s the legend of “even ghosts fear the vicious” (Note ①).

This situation resembled Lao Li’s description. Feng Xue applied the same logic: if you could forcibly “expel” with rudeness, couldn’t you forcibly “invite” with it too?

Now it was clear—he’d successfully invited the guest.

So…

“Little Bell, any results?”

“Feels no different from normal spirit descent. Hmm… just a bit cold…”

“Cold’s normal—he’s frozen!” Feng Xue said, preparing to let Little Bell share sensory feedback. But the next moment, Little Bell shrieked—

“Bad! The spirit fragment is out of control!”

“What’s happening?” Feng Xue was startled. Spirits exert direct control over fragments. Unless it was Little Bell himself—having severed ties with his original world, receiving independent worship, and altered part of his divine duties—this shouldn’t happen.

“I don’t know. The fragment doesn’t feel like a fragment anymore… It feels more like me and Little Wind Bell… but now the fragment is occupying my position…”

“Damn! There’s corrupted willpower in his head!”

Feng Xue’s face darkened instantly. He shouted:

“Sever the fragment’s connection—completely. No trace left. Understood?”

“Understood!”

Though this was like cutting off a tail to survive, Little Bell, as a mindless phantom deity, obeyed without hesitation. Watching the giant ice block before him, Feng Xue sucked in a sharp breath—

“Damn, no wonder the Japs are so ruthless!”

He sighed, then pulled out a high-strength rope from Little Wind Bell’s relics, bound the ice block tightly, and hung him upside down from the ceiling beam. Taking the leftover ink from Mo Ying’s Invoking Spell, he began scribbling on the ice block’s body, while waving his hand and muttering:

“You look like my wife!”

“Thud!” Liu Yunxi dropped to the ground, her face flushed—but before she could speak, Feng Xue said:

“Go get something to eat. I’m hungry.”

“...Alright.”

(End of Chapter)