Chapter 360

At night, at the end of the hai hour and the start of the zi hour, roughly around 11 PM, I followed Pangzi back to Chen Zheng's ancestral home.

Beside the dug well, there was a tent about five meters wide; inside the tent stood a yellowish-brown table, on which lay various offerings such as ingot-shaped candles.

This is a small ritual ground, which Pangzi uses to perform his rites. But what rite is he performing? He keeps mumbling in a daze, his lips sealed tight, not willing to leak even a hint to me.

He took out a yellow banner from his treasure bag and planted it in the center of the table. This banner is not a command flag but the Watch-Heaven Banner that must be set up when laying out a formation and performing rites. Its meaning matches its name: to probe the will of Heaven. If the Watch-Heaven Banner falls before the rite begins, it signifies that Heaven does not consent, the endeavor will surely fail, and the Daoist should promptly desist, not act against Heaven.

At this moment, Pangzi began chanting incantations, treading the Seven Stars Yu Pace, his steps slow and rhythmic as he walked circles in the ritual ground. Every two minutes he paused for two seconds; each time he paused, he flung a pebble from his hand.

This is the Qimen Dunjia art of the Daoist tradition, involving the eight trigrams and the sexagenary cycle, the concealment of spirits and ghosts—one of the most mysterious and unfathomable arts in Daoist practice. Deploying troops and setting up formations cannot do without the aid of Qimen Dunjia. However, Qimen Dunjia is one of my useless subjects. Though I have dabbled a little in numerology, mountain arts, and physiognomy, I simply cannot muster any interest in Qimen Dunjia; whenever I pick up a book to study it, I feel dizzy and bloated within a quarter hour, so I end up tossing the book aside and turning to other arts, and I must admit that I simply lack the aptitude for Qimen Dunjia.

Although I am not cut out for it, I can still grasp the basics, for all five arts share the same underlying marvel, inseparable from the five elements' mutual generation and overcoming, the transformations of yin and yang, and the Zhouyi eight trigrams.

I could faintly see that Pangzi's pebbles were arranged into an eight-gate formation, and under his layout the well also became one of the eight gates—the Dead Gate.

By this point I could no longer hold back; I poked Pangzi and impatiently asked him.

"I say, you dead fatso, won't you die if you stop acting mysterious? Hurry up and tell me what you're tinkering with."

Faced with my impatient tone, Pangzi scratched his head and gave a hehe smile, rubbing the back of his head as he said four words to me: "Nine Dragons Summon Water."

Having said that, he produced an object from his treasure bag. Upon a clear look, it was a Nine Dragons Divine Fire Cup—a round glass lid with nine five-clawed golden dragons coiled around it; even in the night, the magnificence of those nine golden dragons could not be concealed.

Under the faintly pallid moonlight, the nine golden dragons emitted a golden-yellow radiance; especially after Pangzi bit his middle finger, drew blood, and dropped it onto the cup's center, the dragons' light grew brighter, as if they wished to break free of the divine fire cover and soar up to the nine heavens.

After Pangzi spoke of Nine Dragons Summon Water and I saw the Nine Dragons Cup, I finally realized what his rite was all about.

Nine Dragons Summon Water is a lost secret art; speaking of its origin, it is inseparably linked to one of the Three Great Secret Teachings, the Lu Ban School, and there are even rumors that the method of Nine Dragons Summon Water was actually invented by the founder of the Lu Ban School, Lu Ban himself.

During the Song, Ming, and Qing dynasties, this secret art of Nine Dragons Summon Water was used by Daoist adepts to pray to the Dragon God for rain, to alleviate drought.

In the twelfth year of the Qianlong reign of the Qing dynasty, the northwest suffered a severe drought; at that time, the Governor-General of Liangguang set up a ritual ground, summoned a Daoist master to perform rites, hoping to beg the Dragon God for rain to ease the drought.

However, the master the governor summoned was an ignorant charlatan out to extort money; he couldn't even pray for a half cup of water, let alone rain.

While that shameless practitioner was on stage, feigning propriety as he collected money from the audience below, a stranger versed in Qimen Dunjia descended with an umbrella, gave the charlatan a sound thrashing, and, using the Nine Dragons Divine Fire Cup to perform the rite, summoned a torrential downpour that relieved the victims' drought.

That stranger employed precisely the Nine Dragons Summon Water technique, and the Nine Dragons Cup in his hand was identical to the one Pangzi holds.

However, Pangzi's Nine Dragons Summon Water is not for praying for rain; he is drawing water to turn this dry well into a living one.

When Pangzi lit the water-raising talisman, stuffed it into the divine fire cup, and slowly lifted the cup upward, a rumbling sound came from inside the well, as if water were about to surge out.

Do not think Nine Dragons Summon Water is that simple; its success depends on heavenly timing, earthly advantage, and human harmony. First, regarding timing, one must choose an auspicious day to commence the water drawing. This is also why Pangzi urged Fan Wuchang to have the well dug before tonight.

Secondly, earthly advantage: only when the land aligns with the heavenly timing can the water-summoning bureau be set up. Thirdly, human harmony: if any mishap occurs during the water drawing, or if the Daoist himself is distracted by one or two things, the Nine Dragons Summon Water will utterly fail.

Thus, in that mere half hour the Daoist concentrates several times his usual effort; the intricacies are lost on laymen, who only see the bustle and remain unaware of the hardship and danger. Just looking at Pangzi's flushed face, one can see he is exerting all his strength, as if sucking milk, making clear how arduous this water summoning is.

Pangzi's left hand gripped the divine fire cup, lifting it from the table to chest height. This is the final step of Nine Dragons Summon Water; only when the cup is raised to align with the forehead's heavenly gate is the rite deemed completely successful, yet lifting it above the forehead is extremely difficult.

How so? Because in Nine Dragons Summon Water, the amount of water is invisibly embodied in the Nine Dragons Cup; for every inch you move it, the water weighs an additional fen, the weight multiplying exponentially—no mere strongman would dare undertake this task.

Seeing Pangzi grow ever more strained, he switched from one hand to both to move the cup, and due to the excessive exertion, veins stood out in relief on his arms and forehead.

Watching him, I thought of a constipated patient straining hard but unable to defecate, persisting with great difficulty. Just as I was wondering whether to lend him a hand, Pangzi suddenly called out to me.

Damn it, don't just stand there—come help me already! The fat guy flushed red, gritting his teeth as he shouted at me.

I... damn it, if you don't tell me, how am I supposed to know whether to help? If this isn't something I can help with and I get involved and ruin the water-making, what do we do?

I rolled my eyes, muttered a few curses at the fat guy in my mind, rolled up my sleeves, took a deep breath, and walked over to him.

I grabbed the Nine Dragon Divine Fire Cup, only to find it weighed as much as a several-hundred-jin stone. Even with both of us together, moving it was extremely difficult, and our upward progress was painfully slow.

Holy shit, how is this thing so heavy? I exclaimed. Both the fat guy and I gave it everything we had, but the divine fire cup only got up to neck height and wouldn't budge any further.

The fat guy held his breath, clutching the Nine Dragon cup with all his might, and had no strength left to answer my question.

This is a crucial step in the Nine Dragon water-making process; it's less about making water and more about drawing it. If we let go or the divine cup drops, all our effort will be for nothing.

Seeing that the fat guy had also reached his limit, he simply couldn't lift the Nine Dragon Divine Fire Cup any higher.

I had a sudden flash of inspiration and came up with an excellent idea.

I swear, this method is truly excellent—I've never had a flash of inspiration like this in my life, and I feel suddenly brilliant.

Fatty, hold on, it'll be fine soon. I comforted him with a couple of words, then sneaked behind him, picked up a stone, walked up to him, and in his shocked gaze, I slammed the stone hard onto his foot.

Ah... A pig-slaughtering scream echoed through the silent night. At the same time, the fat guy didn't dare drop the divine cup; he gritted his teeth, turned the pain into strength, and managed to lift the cup.

In an instant, the well rumbled with the sound of flowing water. Unlike before, I could hear the water splashing against the well walls. This sound indicated that the fat guy's Nine Dragon water-making had finally succeeded.

Recalling the scene of the fat guy, in pain, summoning all his strength to lift the Nine Dragon cup, I couldn't help but feel moved.

I recall someone saying that when a person is in pain, they can unleash ten times their potential. I didn't believe it before, but after experiencing it myself, I have to admit that person was absolutely right and incredibly insightful.

Damn it, Hai Sheng, you actually picked up a stone to throw at my foot! The fat guy, blowing air on his sore toes and grinning, turned and cursed at me.

I shrugged, trying not to laugh, patted his shoulder and said, "The process doesn't matter anymore—look, the Nine Dragon water-making has succeeded, right?"

The fat guy crawled over to the well's edge and peered inside; seeing the previously dry well now bubbling with a gentle stream, he couldn't help but smile, forgetting all his previous pain.

It's done, damn it—I'm a genius; the first Nine Dragon water-making succeeded. Looks like I can go to disaster areas to pray for rain and make a living. The fat guy drooled, looked up at the sky with a foolish grin, lost in extreme daydreams of fistfuls of cash slipping into his pockets.

Come on, what era is this? Even if you really had rain-summoning abilities, you'd probably get arrested by the police for promoting feudal superstition before you even reached the disaster zone. As for the fat guy—especially the one who's pleased with his current success—I never hold back my criticism; I even enjoy it.

The fat guy gave me a sideways glance, pursed his lips, and said, "You really have no sense of fun; besides being a buzzkill, I can't think of anything else you're good at."

I shrugged, looked down on the fat guy, and said, "Actually, I know a lot more than you think; you just don't know about it."

Right, fatty, you're digging wells, splashing water, doing Nine Dragon water-making—what exactly are you messing with? Is this related to feng shui? After bustling around all day, I simply couldn't figure out what the fat guy was doing.

The fat guy let out a hiss, glanced cautiously around the room, made sure no one was there, then grabbed me firmly and whispered in my ear: "I'm doing this to capture the evil spirit of this house; if the evil spirit isn't removed, the house's feng shui can't be changed."