Chapter 131

Without a cover, lacking the Five Ghost Coins and longevity gold, I had no choice but to use whatever materials were at hand.

After paying respects to the earth god before the City God Temple, I took a small incense burner for offering to the earth, estimated the direction of the hour, ran to the northern crossroads, set the burner against the wall, and performed the rite facing west.

The Heaven‑Viewing Flag used in the rite was missing, so I temporarily substituted the Yin Mountain Order Flag. I had no ink or white paper, so I could only pick up some torn cloth in the temple, using the remaining incense stubs and stove ash as ink, and wrote the talismans on the cloth.

After finishing all that, I turned back, went again into the City God Temple, took some weeds, bound them into a straw‑man shape, then wrapped these few strands of hair around its waist and placed it before the incense burner.

"Please, please, disciple sincerely invites, invites the Three Mountains and Nine Hou, the Maoshan Dharma Lord, the Yin Mountain Old Ancestor……All the ancestors come to the altar, personally transmitting to disciple Chen Hai Sheng, who wholeheartedly invites, please let the ancestors and Dharma Lord manifest their mighty power, please let the ancestors come to command the troops and obey my order……I obey the edict of the Yin Mountain Ancestor……"

After reciting the invitation mantra and kowtowing three times, I stuck the incense in the burner, simplified the complex, and began to deploy troops and cast the spell.

This time I used a common folk witchcraft: taking a living person's hair as a lead, the straw man as a medium, to lay the spell upon the sword‑wielder.

Such witchcraft is not rare among the folk; even in rural villages many who know a little but harbor ill intent use straw men, silver needles, mixed with cat blood, stabbing different parts of the straw man to curse people.

Thus, many people upon hearing this witchcraft immediately think of it as harming heaven and reason, unforgivable of the ten evils.

Nevertheless, I still hold that old saying: the Dharma itself has no good or evil, only people have good or evil. The art itself is not wrong, the act of casting is not necessarily blameworthy; it depends on what the knowledgeable practitioner does with the art, whether they measure their hand when striking, and each leaves the other a sliver of leeway.

Although that flying sword nearly killed everyone, I still did not want to go too far; setting up this straw man was not meant to take the sword‑wielder's life. I only wanted to force him out, to learn the full story, see if there was room for negotiation, best to turn swords into silk and live peacefully, each going our own way.

"Essence of heaven, essence of earth, three essences become one spirit. Invite the great ghosts, invite the small ghosts, summon the great and small seventy‑two directional evil spirits, they bring no illness nor injury, only frighten the body to hurt you, make you tremble with fear, make you dizzy and unable to tell east from west..."

The spell cast upon the straw man is called the "Flying Spirit Seed Evil Curse."

Unlike its ominous name, this art is actually mild; it does not harm life, merely directs troops to affect a person's spirit and mood, causing fear.

In plain terms, this art is commonly used to punish men who spend all day carousing, neglecting their wives and wandering outside; it makes these bad men pull back from the brink, cut off their evil ties, and return promptly to their wives.

Just as the incantation says, it does not inflict real harm; it merely makes you feel inexplicable dread all day, unable to eat or sleep, occasionally feeling anxious, head foggy, unable to distinguish directions.

This art also has several variations, depending on the mantra's ending and hand seal. If after "making you dizzy and unable to tell east from west" comes "never ceasing, only fear, after a hundred days return home," then it is surely meant to bind a husband who carouses outside back home. If the ending is the one I am now chanting, however, it is quite different.

After all, the opponent is also a practitioner; ordinary usage might not work on him. So I changed the mantra's ending and hand seal, intensifying the Flying Spirit Curse. Cast upon this straw man, it makes his head feel like it will split, his brain as if struck by a great bell, never at peace.

As long as he cannot bear the pain, shows himself and begs for mercy, then my aim is achieved; naturally I will also lift the spell from him.

However, after I cast the spell, I realized I had underestimated the opponent's ruthlessness.

Just as I closed my mind, covered the straw man with a talisman cloth, and with one hand over my face chanted the mantra, suddenly my palm felt as if pricked by a needle, followed immediately by a piercing pain that went straight to the bone, spreading from my palm.

The entanglement of the Dharma battle is incomprehensible to laypeople, yet its consequences are no less than close‑quarters combat, indeed even more fierce.

The pain in my palm is the counterattack of the sword‑wielder; after sensing my spell, he immediately performed a counter‑ritual on the altar. I did not expect his heart to be so vicious; he actually used a silver needle to lay a curse on me, directly stabbing the left hand I use to cast spells.

If it were an ordinary person, this hand would surely be crippled. Even though I have divine soldiers and generals protecting my Dharma, after finishing the spell my palm would likely develop a large festering sore and not heal quickly.

My fury surged from the soles of my feet to my crown; I hardened my heart and added once more a Heavenly Sovereign Tight‑Binding Curse to the paper figure.

"Tight‑Binding Curse, tight and tight, binds you so your head aches till it feels like it will burst, you cannot live; the pain makes you flail with all four legs in the air, rolling straight."

When I bit my middle finger, using essence‑blood to dot the eyes, I again suffered a fierce counterattack from the sword‑owner.

My chest gave a sudden pain, as if a blade had pierced my heart, making it impossible to breathe, with waves of cutting‑like constriction in my chest.

"Damn, so vicious, he actually gave me a Piercing‑Heart Arrow."

I am not unfamiliar with this art; it is one of the signature techniques of the Red Lotus Sect in folk Dharma, extremely fierce. Though called Dharma, it is not; yet if called martial art, its application resembles Dharma more.

Thus, this art lies between civil and martial methods; it is akin to a cursing literary martial art.

The Red Lotus Sect, the Azure Gang, and the Bright Light are together known as the Three Laws and Two Teachings of Guangdong‑Guangxi, with deep origins. Since Pangzi is a successor of the Bright Light, I have also learned about this Piercing‑Heart Arrow art, and I know its counter‑method.

But when I pinched my Seal Finger and chanted the counter‑spell, I suddenly found the counter‑spell ineffective. After trying several more times, I saw not only did it not work, my heart hurt even more.

After several attempts I finally understood what was happening. Having figured out the cause, besides a chill rising in my skull, my chest surged with uncontainable rising fury.

This practitioner, well‑versed in the Way of the Sword, not only gave me the Piercing‑Heart Arrow, but also laid a Foundation‑Laying Spell upon it.

The Foundation‑Laying Method is an inner secret; if any spell is cast with a Foundation‑Laying added, unless the caster personally pulls the stake and undoes the incantation, no one can break the spell, hence it is also called "No One Can Break the Spell Cast."

This art is extremely sinister and carries great risk; normally it is placed upon a death curse. But if someone manages to undo it, it will directly harm the caster's mind and spirit, severely possibly causing instant death. Unless it is an irreconcilable deadly feud where only one side can survive, ordinary practitioners and Daoists usually leave a sliver of leeway and do not lay a lethal curse upon others.

The heart is one of the body's vital points; now the sword‑wielder first wounded me with the Piercing‑Heart Arrow, then immediately added a Foundation‑Laying Spell to it—he has truly made up his mind to kill me.

The pain in my chest grows worse; I am like a heart‑attack patient, breathing ever more difficult, even if I open my mouth and gulp air, the sensation of suffocation keeps intensifying.

If this continues, the one who will die is definitely me.

"Absolutely cannot sit and wait for death."

I gritted my legs, slowly sat cross‑legged, pinched my finger seal, and prepared to deploy the Hundred‑Solutions Method.

Anything that appears strong will have a corresponding counter; there is no absolute strength or weakness, victory or defeat. This is the so‑called yin‑yang generation, all things mutually create and overcome.

In talismanic Dharma, the Hundred‑Solutions Method is the nemesis of the Foundation‑Laying Method. Moreover, it can dispel all harmful punitive arts. It is a secret art, yet not truly secret; many know it, but few dare to use it.

Because it is rather useless, and at the same time it has a very serious drawback.

Its uselessness lies in that the mage who uses the Hundred‑Solutions Method to break a spell must have power ten times, or even more than ten times, that of the opponent; only when the disparity reaches a certain level does the Hundred‑Solutions incantation take effect. The drawback is that if your cultivation has not reached ten times the caster's level, you cannot undo the opponent's spell, and indeed you may suffer a double backlash from the spell's power,

Thus the Hundred‑Solutions incantation is quite useless, truly a pitfall in talismanic Dharma. When I first encountered it, I thought the creator of this art was talking nonsense. Think about it: when the power gap is ten‑plus fold, who would still need your Hundred‑Solutions to undo a curse?

Nevertheless, I never imagined that this art, which I had long considered nonsense and useless, would at this moment become my lifeline.

Feeling the ever‑stronger stabbing pain in my heart, I can only clutch the courage of a corpse—if I fail, I die—and make one desperate attempt.

I can be certain that the owner of the flying sword, because the sword is damaged, has had his mind and spirit injured. Yet he is certainly no ordinary person; even wounded, he is not someone an average individual can shake.

Therefore, in using the Hundred‑Solutions Method, I unhesitatingly bit the tip of my tongue.

The blood of the tongue tip is also called true yang saliva; biting the tongue instantly releases yang energy from the tip, which can boost one's magical power. Each time the tongue tip is bitten, the Daoist himself becomes weakened for a period.

I had used this method before when I encountered the infant serpent, and it restored my momentary strength. Now, to lower the risk as much as possible, I choose to bite my tongue tip again and cast the spell.

After biting my tongue tip, I left hand pinched the Spirit Mountain Seal, right hand the Three Pure Ones Seal, feet treading Yu's step, left Kui right Gang, then standing in the Ding step, I slowly deployed the Hundred‑Solutions Method.

The moment of casting is also the start of the Dharma duel; it is the beginning of the clash between the Hundred‑Solutions Method and the Foundation‑Laying Method. And the focus of this clash has shifted from that straw man directly to me.