Chapter 156 — Night Investigation

At this point Zhou Yixuan's expression grew even graver. "I had not thought of any of this at first—that coffin was not conspicuous. But when Wild Wolf called out 'Mr. Ghost' upon first seeing the man, something stirred in my mind, and I secretly studied the feng shui of that ghostly dwelling. Sure enough, I made out a thing or two. I fear this man truly is of the ghost path, and means to use that yin energy to nourish himself in quiet seclusion." Yet here a trace of doubt surfaced on Zhou Yixuan's face; he lowered his head slightly, as though puzzling something out aloud. "It is only that, though those of the demonic cult who practice the arts often take strange and crooked paths, arts of this ghostly kind are, as I recall, more the province of the southern borderlands' shamanic sorcery. How is it that they should appear in this man?"

Wild Wolf Daoist suddenly cut in, "That need not be so. Back then the Ten Thousand Poisons Sect had an old fellow called the Blood-devouring Old Demon—besides his famous Blood-devouring **, did he not also practice a formation called 'Five Ghosts Commanding the Spirits'?"

Zhou Yixuan spat in disgust. "Enough of your pretending to understand what you do not! That old good-for-nothing Blood-devouring wretch picked up a few paltry tricks from somewhere, forced a few innocent souls into his service, and then used them to play the ghost and frighten people. When it came to real use, he was usually broken the moment he raised his hand. The shamanic arts of the southern borderlands are vast and profound, and in the ghost path they have achieved wonders that stagger the world. How could that worthless creature be mentioned in the same breath?"

Wild Wolf Daoist was silenced. But on reflection he had to admit that Zhou Yixuan was right: in those years, when the Blood-devouring Old Demon waylaid Zhang Qingyue—then still a disciple of Qingyun—and used the Five Ghosts Commanding the Spirits for the first time, it had in fact been inexplicably broken by Zhang Qingyue. Strange and eerie as the scene had been, and ghostly as the treasure in Zhang Qingyue's hand had been, it must after all have been because the Blood-devouring Old Demon's own arts were wanting. Thinking thus, Wild Wolf Daoist felt a fresh measure of contempt for the Blood-devouring Old Demon—and quite forgot how he himself had once groveled and begged for mercy at that same man's hands.

Xiaowan stood nearby, her brows knit. "Grandfather, be that as it may, Father's spirit tablet is still in the middle of that room. Now that there is such a monster inside, might that not be a bad thing?"

Zhou Yixuan shook his head slowly. "Your father has been gone many years; that much does not matter now. But that place is, after all, where your father's spirit tablet rests, and he was my only son. I cannot simply leave it at that."

Wild Wolf Daoist was startled and stared at him. "What did you say?"

Zhou Yixuan snorted. "Naturally I mean to go back and look again. I cannot simply walk away like this."

Wild Wolf Daoist's dog-face paled. "That man is not someone you or I can afford to cross, do you understand?"

Zhou Yixuan spat. "Ignore him," he said, addressing himself. "By the ordinary rule, for one of this ghost path, the night, when yin energy is at its fullest, is the best time for his cultivation and quiet nurture. If we are to spy him out, daylight would be better. But since he has crossed our path today, we cannot very well go back so early. We will wait until night and then return."

Xiaowan nodded, then seemed to recall something and turned to Wild Wolf Daoist. "Daoist, perhaps you had better not come with us. Grandfather and I are going back only because Father's spirit tablet is there and we cannot bear to leave it untended."

Wild Wolf Daoist, meeting Xiaowan's bright, glistening eyes, opened his mouth as though to say something, then suddenly shut it again. After a long while he mumbled, "Let us go together."

Xiaowan was a little surprised, but she smiled all the same. "Is that so? Heh, Daoist, you really are a good man."

Wild Wolf Daoist said nothing, while beside him Zhou Yixuan gave two cold chuckles, heavy with meaning.

********

The three of them waited in that secluded alley. At first a few distant figures could still be vaguely made out, but as the sky grew late even those few disappeared—most likely, one supposed, because this was a mortuary, a dwelling of the dead.

When night finally fell over He Yin City, which had clamored all day, the people cloaked in dread of the beast-demon calamity had survived yet another day. Weary folk in every corner of the city drifted into sleep, carrying their fears and their blank uncertainty about the future—and who among them had time to spare for the affairs of others?

There was no moon in the night sky; heavy black clouds pressed down, and He Yin City lay in gloom. Only far off at the horizon did one or two faint stars glimmer, facing one another across the dark. A night wind blew softly, carrying a hint of chill and damp, giving out a thin, faint moan as it slipped across the rooftops of the city.

Zhou Yixuan and the other two came noiselessly to the mortuary door at the end of the alley. In the dim light the dilapidated door and walls could still be vaguely discerned, and a cold wind whistled, as though a ghostly draft were blowing steadily out from within. Zhou Yixuan shrank his neck as if chilled; behind him, Wild Wolf Daoist felt his own scalp prickle. But he stole a glance at his side, and saw Xiaowan's graceful figure standing right beside him, her face likewise tense as she gazed into the darkness—and the little urge to retreat that had stirred in his heart vanished without a trace.

Zhou Yixuan gazed into the darkness for a long while, as though pondering something. At length he turned, took several yellow paper talismans from his robe—faintly visible upon them were crooked, obscure drawings, though in the dim light one could not tell what they were—and handed two to Xiaowan. After a moment's hesitation he reached out and handed two to Wild Wolf Daoist as well, saying in a low voice, "Keep the larger of these two talismans close against your body; it will ward off ghostly energy. Hold the smaller one in your hand, and if anything goes wrong, recite the incantation at once and fling it out—then you may flee through the earth."

That done, Zhou Yixuan softly taught the two of them the incantation. Xiaowan had likely known it long before; she nodded, looking at ease. But Wild Wolf Daoist's head swam as he listened. These strange incantations of Zhou Yixuan's were like nothing he had ever heard—not only awkward on the tongue, but winding and twisting this way and that, fiendishly hard to remember. Wild Wolf Daoist almost suspected that if trouble truly came, he would be dead at Mr. Ghost's hands before he ever finished reciting them.

Be that as it may, though he did not know whether this charlatan Zhou Yixuan's magic would prove efficacious this time, Wild Wolf Daoist nonetheless set himself to memorize it in earnest. It took him the time of a cup of tea before he finally managed to commit that utterly intractable incantation to memory.

Zhou Yixuan heard Wild Wolf Daoist recite it back once, nodded, and signaled that it would do. This time, in teaching Wild Wolf Daoist a means of escape, he had uncharacteristically refrained from cursing and scolding—perhaps, it may be, because he knew his own incantations were too hard to remember. Then Zhou Yixuan steadied himself, pointed toward the mortuary door, and Xiaowan and Wild Wolf Daoist both nodded at once.

Zhou Yixuan drew a deep breath, then slowly lifted his foot and walked forward, Xiaowan and Wild Wolf Daoist following behind. Ahead the night was deep and pitch-black, weird beyond all telling. And in that tense moment, from somewhere far behind the three of them, came faintly a few soft cries:

"Chi-chi, chi-chi..."