Chapter 183

At exactly 3 a. m., when the sky was still at the yin-yang junction, faintly one could see the road clearly. Two figures carrying small bundles sneaked left and right on the narrow road lined with tile houses, secretly slipping under the makeshift bamboo stage.

"Ha... I said, Pangzi, do we really need to do this?" In the countryside the mist and moisture are heavy, especially from midnight to early morning; moreover, the weather is now approaching winter, and the cold wind seeps through the gaps in clothing and pierces the body, simply making one feel a chill from the heart.

These two sneaky figures are none other than me and Pangzi. Before dawn, Pangzi didn't care whether I lived or died, grabbed me and hauled me out of bed, and on top of that, he also brought the soul‑summoning incense and the willow coffin.

"While everyone's still asleep, you hurry up and do it. When you're done, wait under the stage; we must find that troublemaking thing as quickly as possible in the shortest time… only then will we have an explanation to give everyone." After saying that, Pangzi clenched my hands tightly, gave me a firm nod… the meaning in his eyes seemed to be urging me to give it my all.

But at that moment I suddenly shuddered, jerked my hand away, quickly extended a finger, shook it, and clarified: "Hold on, you need to tell the difference—it's you, not us; your boasting is your own hot air, your balloon is your own release, whether it inflates or not is your business, and has nothing to do with me, absolutely nothing."

I had no hesitation in clearing up our relationship, so I wouldn't be trapped by him again. It's not that I lack loyalty; it's that I've been terrified of his endless tricks since childhood.

That heart‑wrenching lesson has become an indelible pain in my heart. Even today, I still remember that incident and that night vividly.

It is a sorrowful tale that makes listeners heartbroken and brings tears to their eyes; whenever it is mentioned, it inevitably draws a single line of tears.

One evening in high school, the teacher punished us by making us write a weekly journal about the stars, insisting it be truthful and not made up.

To be truthful and close to life, Pangzi brought a telescope, dragged me while keeping the dormitory instructor in the dark, and we all ran up to the Tiantian. He claimed that only this way could we see the stars clearly, write the article as the teacher required, and give him an explanation.

Little did I know, Pangzi took the telescope up to the rooftop just to stare dead‑eyed at the opposite girls' dormitory, never once glancing at a star. Worse, he refused to let me touch the telescope at all.

When the instructor suddenly stormed up to the rooftop, he saw us two sneaking around with the telescope, peeping at the girls' dormitory. From behind he bellowed: "What are you doing?"

Pangzi, frightened, put down the telescope, grabbed my hand, and nodded firmly. If I remember correctly, the look he gave me then seemed to me like a warrior severing his own wrist—sacrificing himself to save his brother.

But I never imagined…

Pangzi snapped to attention in a strict military posture, turned sharply, and slapped a standard salute to the instructor.

"Reporting to the instructor, Hai Sheng doesn't understand what the 'surging waves' he saw during military training means; so that he can clearly grasp what 'surging waves' are, and to open for him an indispensable door in life, today I sacrifice myself, leading him up to the Tiantian, and, based on the real layout of the opposite girls' building, explain to him clearly the meaning of 'surging waves'."

Having said that, Pangzi lowered his brows, clasped his hands together, and spoke in a sorrowful tone: "The Buddha says, if I do not enter hell, who will?"

... and I, standing behind, stared dumbfounded at all this, and even when the instructor came to twist my ear, I still hadn't snapped out of it.

What's worse, Pangzi's voice was so loud that not only the boys' dormitory building could hear it, but the girls' dormitory building seemed to hear it too. Though we don't know who the speaker was, the two words "Hai Sheng" seemed to have become famous overnight.

All I can say is that I guessed neither the beginning nor the outcome… I merely gained a memory so painful it made me wish I were dead, and that's all.

Now, Pangzi's handshake posture, his gaze… every move is eerily similar to what it was back on the boys' dormitory rooftop years ago… In this instant, all the past surges into my heart, making my emotions tumultuous and painful enough to make me wish I were dead.

Pangzi ignored my protests and my fragile heart, scarred by the past, rudely shoved a bundle of soul‑summoning incense into my hand, then waved his hand impatiently: "Enough, enough, enough—you talk too much. While everyone's still asleep, hurry up and crawl in to stir things up, or else it'll be bad when my uncle wakes up."

Having said that, Pangzi turned and walked off in the opposite direction.

"Where are you going?" I grabbed him and asked.

Pangzi took the compass, shrugged, and said: "Naturally you're the one to summon the spirits; I'll wander around checking the layout, seeing if the feng shui has any clashes or if any lurking yin spirits are hidden nearby."

"Holy shit… you dump this tough job on me while you go strolling around—are you even human?" I instantly flew into a rage, raising my voice.

"Or I could give you the compass, you check the feng shui, and I'll summon the spirits!" Pangzi was blunt and to the point.

Alright… you take the easy task, I'll handle the tough one! Looking at the compass's dense tiny characters, even from afar it makes my head spin. After thinking, I figured I'd better just honestly summon the spirits.

Helplessly sighing, I could only lie down honestly, gather my gear, and crawl into the space under the stage.

The makeshift stage built in the countryside actually has a certain gap underneath—at most a few crossbeams and some bamboo supporting the foundation; the performers perform on the thickened second layer.

Of course, even with that space, the underside of the stage is still filled with tangled, crooked bamboo stakes jammed into the ground, propping up the stage's stability.

In a nutshell, my situation is like the low‑crawl drill from military training: my body stretched out like a loach, pressed to the ground, with a constant series of horizontal and vertical obstacles ahead.

After finding a relatively spacious spot, I maintained that prone position and pulled out from my bag the yellow banner, the Liuzhou coffin, and the soul‑summoning incense, among other items.

The yellow banner is the Watch‑Heaven Banner, an essential item for setting up the ritual. If the banner does not fall, the rite may proceed; if it falls, the altar must be taken down immediately—one must not defy heaven.

As mentioned before, the soul‑summoning incense is an incense prepared by medicinal methods; it has an irresistible attraction for yin entities. In the past, many Yin Mountain Daoists relied on this incense to lure wandering souls and then conscript those unclaimed ghosts into their spirit troops.

As for the Liuzhou small coffin, like the soul‑summoning incense, it also has a strong attraction for yin entities.

There's a Guangdong saying: "Eat in Guangzhou, dress in Suzhou, play in Hangzhou, die in Liuzhou."

Eating in Guangzhou is because the famous snacks of Guangzhou's Xiguan district are numerous and delicious, a delicacy both north and south. Dressing in Suzhou is because Suzhou silk is renowned; formerly wealthy families used only silk produced in Suzhou. As for why one plays in Hangzhou, hehe, it's because Hangzhou is not only a scenic spot but also produces many beautiful women.

Lastly, to die in Liuzhou is not a malicious slander but an expression of envy. Liuzhou's coffins are of high quality, Liuzhou wood is famous worldwide; in the era when earth burial prevailed, everyone wished to be buried in a Liuzhou coffin after death. Of course, Liuzhou wood also nurtures the soul and body, which is why it is said to possess an irresistible allure for yin spirits.

I planted the yellow banner to one side, lit three sticks of incense and stuck them in the ground, placed the Liuzhou small coffin to one side, then slowly made the hand seal and chanted the Maze‑Soul Child's Scattering Lamp Command.

Don't think summoning a ghost is really that simple; if it were, all the Daoists in the world could just stick a few incense sticks and raise an army of spirits. The profundities are great—laypeople merely watch the spectacle, while insiders know none of the details, and moreover they don't realize that every item actually carries its own meaning.

First comes the incense offering—the posture, the number of sticks—these are all matters of great consideration.

Normally we offer just a single stick of incense, never two. The reason is that Daoism divides into the Dao, the scriptures, and the master—the Three Treasures—and heaven, earth, and humanity—the Three Unifications. A single stick has three strands, representing the Dao, scriptures, and master, as well as heaven, earth, and humanity. It also symbolizes a single heart‑centered incense stick that reaches straight to Lingxiao.

Three sticks of nine‑strand incense, however, are used to invite and send off ghosts; the underworld's yin officials and yin deities always receive incense in bundles of three. Unless one is summoning troops for duty, incense is not burned in three sticks. If ordinary families burn incense to worship the gods after the hai hour, they easily attract nearby wandering ghosts, and in severe cases the ghosts may possess them.

Of course, if the practitioners are followers of both Dao and Buddhism, after summoning the ghosts they perform "offering food". To bestow merit upon hungry ghosts and wandering souls, this also requires burning three sticks of incense. However, the former is a thoughtless arrow, easily causing trouble; the latter is done with ample preparation, wholeheartedly performing good deeds and bestowing merit according to procedure. Whether intentional or not, the latter's safety index is clearly far higher than the former's.

Next is the Maze‑Soul Child's Scattering Lamp Command. Who is the Maze‑Soul Child? I don't know the specifics, but ever since I began studying the rites I've known that this yin deity appears in the talismanic incantations. And for us Yin Mountain Daoists, if we wish to gather spirit troops through summoning souls, aside from the soul‑summoning incense, the important thing is this very command.

Scientifically speaking, the function of this command is to emit yin information similar to that of a spirit body, dispelling the three fires on one's body. This makes nearby wandering ghosts unable to sense any trace of human vitality, leading them to mistake you for one of their own—a ghost, a yin energy. Only when they feel no hint of yang energy, no trace of divine aura, will they dare to approach without fear.

To be frank, before I met Pangzi I held these things in reverence and respect, believing that every school of magic and its founding patriarch were truly great.

But ever since I came into contact with Pangzi, for some reason, whenever I use this art, an unbidden thought inevitably pops into my mind.

You say, could it be that one of my Yin Mountain patriarchs had his heart ruthlessly crushed by this cruel, selfish human nature, after enduring several tangled, pull‑and‑tug, you‑blame‑me‑for‑the‑ups‑and‑downs of love? Having seen through the seven emotions and six desires of the world, he turned to seek a passionate romance with ghosts, grew melancholy and frustrated, and sought some excitement. Otherwise, why would he have created this art that turns oneself into a ghost?

I even once had, on an obscure night, a hazy dream in which the patriarch who created the Scattering Lamp Command stood before an altar summoning souls while shamelessly shaking a little bell, muttering: "Beautiful ladies, beautiful ladies, come quickly—I am the Yin Mountain Youth."

Afterward, the patriarch's expression turned solemn, then he raised his eyebrows with a lewd smile, hooked his hands forward, and pointed at one of the summoned yin spirits: "Exactly, it's you, beautiful lady—let's play a game of house where one plus one equals three."

Immediately after, the patriarch's shadow began to grow clear, his features rapidly approaching the round, chubby face of Old Master Wang Da Pang, and in the end the two faces overlapped, becoming one and the same person.

That night I was drenched in sweat from fright… it was the most terrifying nightmare I have ever experienced in my life.

... In the end, I could only crouch in a dark, quiet night where no one was watching, silently reflecting and silently admitting that I had fallen, fallen into becoming a callous brute.

I planted nine incense sticks, propped myself up with both hands on the ground to support my chin, let my head droop, and idly looked around.

In the dead of night, my spirit had already been exhausted to the limit; my whole face felt hot, and while I yawned I also felt a surge of agitation… this is definitely due to lack of rest.

Around four‑thirty, I relit three sticks of incense and planted them in the ground. Over the past hour or so, my spiritual sense has detected no anomaly. In other words, there ought to be no ghosts nearby; otherwise they would not be able to withstand the soul‑summoning incense, the Liuzhou coffin, and the irresistible Maze‑Soul Child's Command.

Under the laxity of thought and the fatigue of spirit, I could no longer resist the drowsiness in my mind; I let my hands drop, lay prone beneath the stage, and fell into a deep, muddled sleep.

I didn't notice that, not long after I fell asleep, a cockroach slowly crawled over to the spot where I had set up the ritual and stopped beside my arm. Moreover, the smoke rising from the three incense sticks planted in the ground seemed to know the way, as most of it drifted onto that cockroach's body.