Chapter 455

Exactly 3 a. m., when the sky was still at the junction of yin and yang and the road could be dimly seen, two figures carrying a small bundle sneaked along the lane mixed with tile-roofed houses, darting left and right, and secretly slipped to the underside of the makeshift stage built of bamboo.

"Ha... 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 nearly winter, and the cold wind slips through the gaps in clothing into the body, simply making one feel cold to the bone.

These two sneaky shadows were exactly me and Pangzi. Before dawn, Pangzi didn't care about my life or death, he grabbed me out of bed in one go. Not only that, he also brought the soul‑summoning incense and the willow coffin.

"While everyone's still asleep, hurry up and do it. When you're done, wait under the stage; we need to find that troublemaking thing as quickly as possible in the shortest time… that way we'll have an explanation to everyone." Pangzi clenched my hands tightly and 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 raised a finger and shook it while clarifying: "Stop, you need to tell the difference—it's you, not us. Your boasting is your own, your balloon is your own, whether it inflates or not is your business, it has nothing to do with me, absolutely nothing."

I unhesitatingly distanced myself from that 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 bone‑deep lesson has become an everlasting pain in my heart. Even today, I still remember that incident and that night vividly.

It is a sorrowful tale that makes listeners sad and brings tears to those who hear it; whenever it is mentioned, it brings a line of tears.

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

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 to the roof just to stare dead‑eyed at the opposite girls' dormitory, not even glancing at a single star. What's worse, he refused to let me touch the telescope at all.

When the instructor suddenly stormed onto the roof, he saw us two sneaking around with the telescope, peeping at the girls' dormitory. He shouted from behind: "What are you doing?"

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

But I never expected…

Pangzi turned sharply into a strict military posture, slapped his hand, and gave the instructor a standard salute.

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

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

... Meanwhile I stood behind, dumbfounded, watching all this, and even when the instructor came to twist my ear, I still hadn't come to my senses.

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. The speaker's identity is unknown, but the two words "Hai Sheng" seemed to become famous overnight.

All I can say is, I didn't guess the beginning, nor the outcome… I merely gained a memory so painful I could barely bear it, and that's all.

Now, Pangzi's hand‑shaking posture, that gaze… every move is eerily similar to what it was on the boys' dormitory roof back then… In this instant, all the past surges into my heart, making my emotions tumultuous, almost unbearable.

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 sneak in to mess around, or else it'll be bad when my uncle wakes up."

After saying that, Pangzi turned and walked off in the opposite direction.

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

Pangzi held the compass, shrugged, and said: "Naturally you're the one to summon spirits; I'll look around at the layout, check the feng shui for any harmful influences or hidden spirits 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'll give you the compass, you check the feng shui, and I'll summon the spirits!" Pangzi was blunt and straightforward.

Fine… you take the easy job, I'll handle the tough stuff! Looking at the compass's dense tiny characters, even from afar it makes my head spin. After thinking, I suppose I'll just honestly summon spirits.

Helplessly sighing, I could only lie down honestly, gather my tools, and crawl into the underside of the stage.

The makeshift stage built in the countryside actually has some clearance 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 many interwoven, haphazardly stuck bamboo poles that support the stage's stability.

In a nutshell, my situation is like the crawl‑training from military drill: my body stretched like a loach, close to the ground, with a constant jumble of obstacles ahead.

After finding a relatively spacious spot, I maintained that prone position and took out the yellow flag, the Liuzhou coffin, and the soul‑summoning incense from my bag.

The yellow flag is the Watch‑Heaven Flag, an essential item for setting up the ritual. If the flag doesn't fall, the rite can 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 to yin entities. Many Yin Mountain Daoists have used it to attract wandering souls and then conscript those unclaimed ghosts as troops.

As for the Liuzhou small coffin, like the soul‑summoning incense, it has a strong attraction to 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 are numerous and delicious, a top‑notch treat 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 beauties.

The final part—dying in Liuzhou—is not a malicious slander but an expression of envy. Liuzhou's coffins are of high quality, its timber famed worldwide; in the era when earth burial prevailed, everyone wished to be buried in a Liuzhou coffin after death. Of course, Liuzhou wood likewise nourishes the soul and body, which is why it is said to have an irresistible lure for yin spirits.

I planted the yellow flag 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 **Child's Scattering Lamp Order.

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. The nuances are profound; outsiders merely see the spectacle, while insiders know the deeper meaning—and they also know that everything actually has its own significance.

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

Normally we light just one stick of incense, never two. This is because Daoism divides into the Dao, the scriptures, and the master—the Three Treasures—and heaven, earth, and humanity—the Three Unions. A single stick has three strands, representing the Dao, scriptures, master, and heaven, earth, humanity. It also symbolizes a single heart‑incense reaching straight to the Heavenly Heights.

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. Ordinary families that burn incense to worship gods after the hai hour easily attract nearby wandering ghosts, and in severe cases the ghosts may possess them.

Of course, if the believers are of both Daoist and Buddhist faiths, after summoning ghosts they perform 'offering food'. To give merit to hungry ghosts and wandering souls, this also requires burning three sticks of incense. However, the former is a careless arrow, easily causing trouble; the latter is done with full preparation, wholeheartedly performing good deeds and bestowing merit according to procedure. Whether intentional or not, the latter's safety index is clearly much higher than the former's.

Next is this **Child's Scattering Lamp Order. Who is the Child? I don't know the specifics, but ever since I started studying the rites, I've known that this yin deity appears in the talismanic incantations. For us Yin Mountain Daoists, if we wish to collect troops by summoning souls, besides the soul‑summoning incense, the important thing is still this decree.

Scientifically speaking, the function of this decree is to release yin information similar to that of a spirit body, dispelling the three fires on one's body. It makes nearby wandering ghosts feel no trace of human vitality, and mistakenly think you are just like them—a ghost, a yin energy. Only when they sense no hint of yang energy, no trace of divine aura, do they dare to approach in peace.

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

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

You say, could it be that one of my Yin Mountain ancestors, his heart ruthlessly torn by this cruel, selfish human nature, after enduring several rounds of tug‑of‑war, after you resent me for the tumultuous feelings I caused? This ancestor saw through the seven emotions and six desires of the world, turned to want a passionate love affair with ghosts, grew melancholy and frustrated, seeking some excitement. Otherwise, why would he create this art that turns oneself into a ghost?

I even had one of those hazy, vague dreams on an unknown night: in the dream, the ancestor who created the Scattering Lamp Order was simultaneously offering sacrifices at an altar to summon spirits and shaking a bell in a flirtatious way, muttering: "Pretty ladies, pretty ladies, come quickly—I am the Yin Mountain Child Lad."

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

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

That night I was drenched in sweat from fright…… This is 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, silently admitting that I had fallen, fallen into a good‑for‑nothing thug.

Having planted nine sticks of incense, I propped myself up with both hands on the ground, supporting my chin, letting my head droop, idly looking around.

In the dead of night, my spirit was already exhausted to the extreme; my whole face felt hot, and while I yawned I also felt a surge of impatience…… This is definitely due to lack of rest.

Around four‑something, I relit three sticks of incense and stuck them in the ground. Over the past hour or so, my spiritual sense has detected nothing unusual. In other words, there ought to be no ghosts nearby, for otherwise they could not resist the soul‑summoning incense, the Liuzhou coffin, and the **Child's Scattering Lamp Order that drives ghosts to distraction.

With my thoughts lax and my spirit fatigued, I could no longer withstand 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, stopping beside my arm. Moreover, the smoke from the three incense sticks stuck in the ground seemed to know the way, as most of it drifted onto that cockroach.