As midnight approached, Lang Jiuchuan opened her eyes from meditation in the Duke’s manor’s lake pavilion. She formed hand seals with both hands, guided a thread of the slightest Five Elements energy into her core to settle there, then rose to her feet.
The Duke’s manor’s feng shui was truly excellent — the Five Elements energy here was notably richer than in an ordinary residence.
She straightened her robes, walked out of the lake pavilion, and saw that Yice had also roused himself from cultivation. “Prepare,” she said.
Yice, for once, wore a composed expression. He gave a nod and followed her to the brightly lit courtyard, where the two of them began setting up the array and raising the altar. Zuo Yan had long since been waiting there with his trusted attendants, and the Bai mistress had been moved to this side.
This had been Lang Jiuchuan’s suggestion. She feared that during the ritual, the Bai mistress might bear the brunt of a karmic rebound and that she might not be able to attend to her in time — so she had her moved here as a precaution.
The ritual altar had been arranged by Yice. With a peach-wood table as its base, he spread a deep-black cloth over it and covered its surface with incense sticks, candles, and offerings. Five incense burners filled with glutinous rice were planted with five-colored command banners. A bronze basin held undrawn water with pomelo leaves and mugwort floating inside, while the pair of substitute effigies were placed on the ground inside a circular array drawn in blood-tinged script. On the altar table itself were arranged all the ritual implements, talismans, and instruments Yice would require.
Yice had changed into an earth-yellow Daoist robe and donned a black Daoist hat. When he caught sight of the altar-steadying wood on the supply table, his pupils contracted slightly. He picked it up and examined it closely, then looked at Lang Jiuchuan.
Lang Jiuchuan said, “Some of the Daoist inscriptions on your altar-steadying wood were fading. I reinforced them.”
Yice clasped his hands in thanks. “I am grateful, Fellow Daoist.”
“Shortly, I will be the one to dot the eyes of the substitute effigies. Here is a reinforcing spirit talisman — take it, and use it immediately if you feel your strength beginning to fail.” Lang Jiuchuan handed him a talisman.
Such a good thing actually existed?
Yice accepted it, and something about it seemed to burn his hand. Sensing the spiritual force concealed within the talisman, he couldn’t help but swallow. Between this talisman and the altar-steadying wood, he was going to have to give this everything he had.
Lang Jiuchuan noticed his sly little grin of someone who had struck gold and said with cold pleasantness, “Don’t think of saving it. If this technique fails, I will make sure you regret it.”
Yice stiffened slightly, then laughed it off. “How would I dare.”
“Go prepare to raise the altar. I will go light her lanterns first.” Lang Jiuchuan walked to the other side of the ritual altar. The Bai mistress was lying on a small couch there. Lang Jiuchuan went to her, fed her the medicinal pill, felt her pulse, and for good measure channeled a thread of spiritual force into her meridians. Then she lit the Seven Star Lanterns arranged around the Bai mistress.
A faint breeze stirred, and the lamplight seemed on the verge of going out — as though resentful of Lang Jiuchuan’s effort to extend her life.
Lang Jiuchuan formed a Daoist hand seal and pressed it forward. The wicks of the Seven Star Lanterns steadied, each holding a small but resolute flame.
The hour of midnight had arrived.
Lang Jiuchuan stood and looked at the sky. The moon had long since retreated behind thick, heavy clouds — not a sliver of silver light remained. The horizon was blanketed in dark, pressing clouds, as though a storm was gathering to come.
At the dead of midnight, yin energy that no ordinary person could perceive drifted in threads and wisps toward this courtyard from all directions — most of it rising from the lake nearby, growing heavier with each passing moment.
Lang Jiuchuan took her place beside the ritual altar and exchanged a glance with Yice. He gave a nod. She picked up the talisman brush, soaked it in the blood of the Bai siblings, and brought the substitute effigies to life by dotting their eyes with the awakening.
Yice, clad in his yellow Daoist robe, closed his eyes slightly. He formed a complex Daoist hand seal with both hands, his expression grave, murmuring words inaudible to others. When he opened his eyes again, they shone bright as stars — candlelight reflected within them, yet those reflections only made his gaze sharper, keen as a hawk’s.
Lang Jiuchuan watched him transform into what seemed like an entirely different person and let the corner of her mouth curve. This Maoshan disciple — he was genuinely interesting.
Yice took up a stick of clear incense, bowed three times, and planted it in the glutinous rice incense burner. Then, altar-steadying wood in hand, he stood before the altar. When he spoke, his voice rang like a great bell: “By the nature of Heaven and Earth, the energy of the year disperses and scatters. The altar grounds are solemn. All spirits and deities, hear my call. Bow your heads — the altar is raised!”
Crack.
Yice brought the altar-steadying wood down hard against the altar base. The sharp sound rang out like a thunderclap. The powerful Daoist intent imbued in the inscriptions on the altar-steadying wood rippled outward in waves. The oil lamps on the altar flared suddenly, shooting upward, and the yin energy that had gathered here scattered in an instant as though startled.
He then let drops of the Bai siblings’ blood fall into the bronze basin of undrawn water. The blood spread and bloomed upon contact. The water shuddered as if trembling, and the mugwort and pomelo leaves floating on its surface began to spin without any wind.
Immediately after, Yice pivoted with a sweep of steps, his footwork blossoming into the Seven Star Celestial Warrior Step. He took the peach-wood sword in one hand, bit his two fingers until they bled, and smeared the blood across the blade. His lips moved in swift recitation: “Brilliant radiance of yang essence, might of the Crimson Emperor — I, Yice, the one hundred and twenty-sixth generation disciple of the Maoshan Sect, humbly call upon the founding patriarch to descend into this body, sweep away corruption, eradicate calamity, dissolve resentment, break the curse — swift, swift, in accordance with the eternal law!”
The sword tip in his hand rang out softly. He passed it through a spirit-summoning talisman — and the talisman caught fire without a flame, the ash curling and spiraling upward with the blue smoke rising from the three sticks of incense on the altar table, threading straight toward the heavens above.
A gust of yin wind swept through. The lanterns in the courtyard swayed and flickered. From the dark lake in the distance came what sounded like a muffled wail, and the bone chime resting not far from the substitute effigies suddenly condensed with a dense concentration of yin energy.
Lang Jiuchuan fixed her eyes on the bone chime, then looked toward the Bai mistress on the small couch — who was visibly uneasy even in her unconscious sleep — while her fingers remained constantly poised in a hand seal.
Yice opened his eyes again. A flash of golden light seemed to sweep across them, his gaze becoming razor-sharp. His feet spun in continuous rotation, treading the Heavenly Celestial Northern Dipper Step. He swept the peach-wood sword in a flourishing arc with one hand, while with the other he dipped a willow leaf into the bronze basin and drew it through the blood-water, scattering it toward the bone chime wrapped in the Pollution-Cleansing Origin-Tracing Talisman. His lips raced through the Spiritual Treasure Resentment-Dissolving Incantation: “With blood as the guide, trace back to the origin. By the Most High’s edict, let the solitary soul be crossed over… kneel before my altar, the Eight Trigrams radiate their light. Be thoroughly cleansed and gone, to be reborn in another realm — I obey the founding patriarch’s command, swift, swift, in accordance with the eternal law!”
His chant was low and solemn, each word ringing clear and resolute. In concert with his movements, a compassionate Daoist intent rippled outward in circle after circle, surging toward the bone chime, attempting to soothe and dissolve the curse-resentment embedded within it.
Lang Jiuchuan’s brow flickered. He was using the crossing-over rite — he intended to simply purify the blood curse through transcendence. As if it were that easy.
Sure enough.
An abrupt change erupted.
The moment the blood-water was scattered onto the bone chime, a fierce yin wind tore through the courtyard. The bone chime began to tremble violently. Yin energy surged into it, and the curse-resentment formed from Liu Xian’s will shrieked in response. The venom of her resentment spread out like a vast net, closing in from all four directions — fierce, malevolent, deathly cold, carrying within it a thread of primordial Heaven-and-Earth force, bearing down with overwhelming pressure.
This was the power of the curse that Liu Xian had planted by sacrificing her own blood and soul.
Lang Jiuchuan’s gaze snapped to the small couch — the Bai mistress was trembling faintly — and inside the array, the effigies of her and her brother were shaking violently.
Evil force saturated with venomous resentment poured out of the bone chime. The cold and the stench belonging to a python demon materialized in the air as a mass of black mist — thick, putrid, bone-piercingly frigid — and spread rapidly through the courtyard like a venomous serpent coiling outward, winding its way toward both the practitioners and the Bai mistress!
All who dared to break this blood curse — would die.
Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes darkened.
She had known it would not be this simple.
She had just begun to move when Yice’s celestial warrior steps came to a dead halt. He stomped one foot down hard. “Hmph. Obstinate and refusing to repent — this calls for a beating!”
(Author’s note: This chapter was written and then revised and reworked for three hours altogether. This author truly is not up to the task these days — going to go reread how Master Zhengying fights ghosts and draw some inspiration!)