Chapter 143
Chapter 143
Song Xiaotian’s shout startled me so much that I immediately reached out to check Meng Yifan’s pulse, heartbeat, and breathing.
“Stop being such a jinx! He’s still breathing, and his heart is beating.”
I shot Song Xiaotian a sharp glare.
I hadn’t encountered this specific situation before, but I knew Meng Yifan wasn’t dead. This was likely a consequence of the possession.
Then again, I’d been possessed plenty of times myself-why had it never happened to me?
Fortunately, Old Zhao Seven arrived shortly after. I hurriedly explained the situation and asked him what was wrong with Meng Yifan.
Old Zhao Seven peeled back Meng Yifan’s eyelids to take a look, his brow furrowing instantly. “In the future, if you encounter such fierce Ghosts, don’t let them possess you so recklessly. If a Ghost’s yin energy is too heavy, there’s a chance it will shove your Three Souls right out of your body. Little Meng is missing one of his souls.”
I jumped in fright and asked frantically if we could get it back.
Old Zhao Seven shook his head. “It’s gone. You might as well start preparing for his funeral.”
Song Xiaotian froze on the spot. My legs went weak, and I collapsed to my knees, tears nearly spilling over.
Old Zhao Seven gave a dry cough. “I’m just pulling your leg. Why did you take it seriously? You young people have no sense of humor.”
In those brief two seconds, my heart had gone through a violent emotional rollercoaster. “You’re a real riot!” I snapped irritably.
I asked Old Zhao Seven how to call back a living person’s soul so we could learn the technique.
“This isn’t something you can just pick up on a whim.”
With that, Old Zhao Seven hoisted Meng Yifan up from the chair with one hand.
Meng Yifan was over six feet tall and weighed nearly a hundred kilograms, yet Old Zhao Seven handled him like a small chick.
He forced Meng Yifan into a kneeling position on the floor, but since Meng Yifan was unconscious, he couldn’t stay upright; he would have slumped over the moment the old man let go.
Strangely, Old Zhao Seven tapped each of the spots where Meng Yifan’s Yang Fire resided and slapped a Talisman onto his back. Suddenly, Meng Yifan remained kneeling steadily, though his head still hung limp.
Next, Old Zhao Seven struck a spot about two inches below the back of his neck. The unconscious Meng Yifan abruptly raised both hands, reaching out in front of him.
Old Zhao Seven then told Song Xiaotian and me to find him a wooden board.
We searched the house for a long time but couldn’t find a board. We did, however, find a large picture frame containing a portrait of Huang Haiquan’s family.
“Seventh Master, will this work…?”
“It’ll do.”
Old Zhao Seven took the frame and placed it flat across Meng Yifan’s palms, glass-side up.
Then, he took all the ashes from the burnt Yellow Paper in the Fire Basin and poured them onto the frame, spreading the ash into an even layer.
Song Xiaotian and I watched, unable to make heads or tails of it, but thinking it looked incredibly impressive.
Old Zhao Seven was like a grandmaster straight out of a movie; there seemed to be nothing he couldn’t do.
After leveling the ash, Old Zhao Seven took a stick of incense from his bag and tucked it into Meng Yifan’s mouth.
He gripped the Three Pure Bells in his left hand and formed a hand seal with his right. Shaking the bells, he chanted: “Myriad Laws Determine Qiankun, Thousand Changes Arise from Rear Kun, Wind and Thunder Open the Ancestors, Qiankun Suppresses Taiqing!”
Those final five words felt like they exploded right next to my ear. Both Song Xiaotian and I couldn’t help but shudder.
Meng Yifan actually reacted. He didn’t wake up, but with the incense still in his mouth, he began to draw on the picture frame.
Song Xiaotian and I craned our necks to see. We realized Meng Yifan wasn’t just doodling aimlessly. Even though his eyes were closed, the lines he drew were continuous, as if they were tracking someone on the move.
It suddenly hit me-could this be the movement of his missing soul?
Sure enough… with a sharp snap, the incense stick broke. Meng Yifan, who had been completely unconscious, suddenly jolted awake.
The wooden board clattered to the floor. Looking as if he’d just seen a ghost, he collapsed onto the ground, screaming and flailing. “Holy crap! Hot! It’s so hot!”
Song Xiaotian and I rushed over, supporting him from both sides. We asked him what was burning.
“I was just in a place with a lot of people… every time I got close to them, it burned!”
Meng Yifan hadn’t quite recovered yet; his expression was still a bit vacant.
I didn’t understand what he meant, so I asked Old Zhao Seven why he would feel a burning sensation.
“His Human Soul was wandering outside just now. Someone must have passed by nearby. The yang energy of the living feels like a scorching flame to a weakened Human Soul. That’s why they say a ghost fears a person seven times more than a person fears a ghost.”
Once Old Zhao Seven explained it, I understood.
Ordinary Ghosts have weak yin energy. Their yin cannot overcome yang, so they fear people.
Powerful Ghosts have heavy yin energy. Their yin overpowers yang, allowing them to harm people.
I remembered Old Zhao Seven mentioning before that the myriad changes in the universe are driven by the simplest interaction between yin and yang.
The relationship between yin and yang can explain the transformation and development of all things.
Thinking about it carefully, even matters of ghosts and gods can be explained through these two concepts.
Curious, I asked Old Zhao Seven what kind of spell he had used and why we couldn’t learn it.
“It’s the Soul Summoning Technique of the Meishan Fa Sect, specifically used to call back the souls of the living.”
Old Zhao Seven explained, “The Meishan Fa originated from the Zhengyi branch of Daoism. Later, it fused with the sorcery of the local Miao and Yao ethnic groups in the Meishan area, forming a very distinctive folk religious sect-the Meishan Fa Sect.”
“Miao and Yao sorcery is mostly used for healing, and the Soul Summoning Technique evolved from their practices. When someone is frightened and their Three Souls are scattered, this technique can be used to bring them back.”
I said that I didn’t see why we couldn’t learn it, as I had already memorized the entire process he just performed.
Old Zhao Seven laughed. “It’s useless even if you’ve memorized it. In the term ‘Fashu’-magic or arts-the ‘Fa’ (Law) and the ‘Shu’ (Technique) are not the same thing. What ordinary people can learn are ‘Shu,’ which includes fortune-telling and divination.”
“To learn ‘Fa,’ formal religions have a very strict set of procedures. You have to take a master and pay respects to the Ancestral Master. If you want to truly gain any real ability, it takes at least three to five years.”
“Even folk sects have their own rules. Learning ‘Fa’ in the folk tradition emphasizes speed, but that speed also depends on fate. If the Ancestral Master feels you lack spiritual aptitude, he won’t let you borrow power. No matter how much you study, you’re just cultivating your mind.”
I thought to myself that this sounded far too complicated, much like the ancient tradition of apprenticing under a master, which always took years.
Then again, it made sense. If everyone could learn ‘Fa,’ then wouldn’t everyone be running around using magic?
“It’s just like that book your grandfather passed down to you.”
Old Zhao Seven said pointedly, “The contents of that book were created by the author’s mentor. That mentor is the Ancestral Master of that lineage. If this Ancestral Master feels you have the spiritual aptitude, you will be able to comprehend the contents very quickly. He will let you borrow power, and only then can you use the spells.”
“If he doesn’t think much of you, then reading it a hundred times is useless. At most, you’ll just understand some theoretical knowledge.”
I felt a stir of excitement hearing this.
It was as if Old Zhao Seven was tempting me to go read it.
Since the book wasn’t some evil tome, there was no harm in taking a look. What if the Ancestral Master thought I had spiritual aptitude?
After all, I was in this line of work now. If I didn’t learn a few things, I’d eventually get slapped across the face by a ghost.