Bearing the Doll

"O soul, return! O soul, return~" In the quiet of the Zi hour, the plaintive cries echoed continuously through the darkness. The personal maid was quite a character. At first, she had been trembling all over in fright, but as she kept calling, she grew used to it and was no longer afraid. Remembering how well the madam had treated her before falling unconscious, grief welled up from deep within her heart. Her cries, mingled with sobs, sent chills down the spines of many listening servants. Wang Daoxuan looked grave as well. He picked up several small oil lamps and lit them one by one, arranging them in a line from the courtyard gate all the way to the head of the unconscious woman, placing the final lamp right before her... Li Yan watched from the side, careful not to speak out of turn. The two of them had already reached an agreement. Wang Daoxuan would help him with spirit preservation to build a mental pavilion, while he would temporarily partner with the Daoist, using his divine abilities to help take on major jobs, earn some silver, and climb out of their dire straits. The Daoist would also explain the ins and outs of Xuanmen. Everything in the Xuanmen seemed complicated on the surface, but in truth it followed a set procedure. In antiquity, natural disasters struck ceaselessly, and wicked things ran rampant. Confronting this mysterious and unknown world, people began searching for patterns. They observed lightning striking trees and discovered the uses of fire... They observed the cycle of the four seasons and the shifts of the stars, summarizing them into the calendar... The Xuanmen was no different, merely more enigmatic. At its core, it was still about deducing patterns to cope with events beyond ordinary perception. It broadly broke down into three steps: omens, taboos, and expiation. Omens meant using observed phenomena and information detected through divine abilities to deduce, calculate, and uncover the root of the problem. All kinds of divination methods had been born from this. Taboos pertained to the specific nature of an occurrence, and there were two ways to handle them. The first was to abide by the taboo's rules to avoid inviting disaster. For instance, one should never whistle in the dead of night. Some people could whistle without consequence, but if someone who had awakened the tongue root whistled, or if an ordinary person did so in a place heavy with yin sha, it would draw in sinister, foul entities. There were also rules against pointing fingers at divine statues, turning around when someone called your name on a night journey, and various customs observed during weddings and funerals. Over time, passed down by word of mouth, these became known as taboos. As long as one did not violate a taboo, disaster could generally be averted. And if it truly could not be avoided, one had to perform rituals for expiation. These three made up the foundational process. All Xuanmen arts had gradually evolved from them, leading to today's flourishing diversity across the traditions. Wang Daoxuan's burning of hair into ashes earlier had been a simple form of divination. It calculated the living soul's location so that it could be summoned. The next step was to perform a ritual after the living soul returned to the body, chanting soul-calming scriptures to prevent it from wandering out of the flesh again. Wang Daoxuan kept a small yin soldier who normally could have found it with ease, but he feared scaring the living soul into dispersing—which was hardly different from murder. Thus, he had no choice but to take this gentler approach. Li Yan's task was to rely on his divine olfactory ability to detect any movement of the living soul and alert Wang Daoxuan, ensuring they did not miss the window to pacify the soul and ruin the ritual. Among the divine abilities of the Yang Six Roots, each possessed its own merits. For sheer directness, nothing surpassed the Yin-Yang Eyes. Whatever lay within sight could be seen; a geomancer who awakened this ability could ascend high places to observe qi, while ritual masters could confront evil entities with pinpoint accuracy... For mystical subtlety, the Mind Spiritual Root reigned supreme; shamans, spirit mediums, grain diviners, and underworld travelers needed only stay at home to commune with ghosts and gods... For searching and tracking, none compared to the Nose Spiritual Root. A skilled practitioner could inhale a single breath and detect abnormal activity across several li, sharper than the nose of a hound. At this moment, Li Yan felt somewhat frustrated. Inside the sprawling Lu estate, all idle hands had withdrawn. Taking advantage of the pretext of banishing evil for the ritual, he had carried a willow branch and strolled through the entire residence. Regrettably, he never caught the sweet fragrance from that night. What kind of treasure was it? Could it be hidden inside Squire Lu's treasury? Just as he was pondering, there was movement in the distance. Standing atop the roof, the maid waved the soul-summoning banner and called out ceaselessly for half a shichen, until her throat grew raspy. Her initial fear had faded completely, replaced by rising doubt. Could the master have hired a charlatan? Right then, a gust of yin wind blew past. The maid suddenly felt a chill strike between her shoulder blades, as though something had abruptly materialized behind her. The sensation was unmistakable. Her fine hairs stood on end, goosebumps erupting across her skin. Terror seized her heart. She was on the verge of screaming when she remembered Wang Daoxuan's earlier instructions. Squeezing her eyes shut, she continued to call out, though her voice now trembled. In the silence of the deep night, the change in her tone immediately drew the attention of the two men in the courtyard. Li Yan took a deep breath. Faintly, he caught a scent. It was somewhat cold, yet unlike the chang soldier, carried no stench of blood. "It's here!" He nodded at Wang Daoxuan and warned in a low voice. Wang Daoxuan instantly lifted a bowl of water from the altar. Chanting an incantation under his breath, his footwork shifted—stepping forward one pace, retreating left one pace, treading right two paces... Li Yan watched with rapt attention, unblinking. These were called gang steps. Paired with incantations and an altar, they allowed one to execute occult arts. Lineages differed from school to school, with varying depths. According to Wang Daoxuan, sorcerers of profound cultivation could tread the Big Dipper steps, communicate with primordial stellar gods, and channel innate gang qi for their own use to cast spells. It sounded like a myth. Yet as Wang Daoxuan performed his rite, Li Yan also sensed a difference. Around the altar, a peculiar scent rose, carrying a trace of warmth that enveloped the entire altar, binding it into a unified whole. Gang qi! Li Yan immediately realized what it was. By now, Wang Daoxuan had entered his zone. Holding the bowl of water, he chanted an incantation, took a mouthful, and spat it forth with sudden force. Pfft! A surge of mist sprayed out, falling over the wooden fish. As though wind had risen and water stirred, the altar's gang qi began swirling around the wooden fish as well. Wang Daoxuan set down the bowl and struck the wooden fish. Dong! Dong! Dong! The rhythmic knocks of the wooden fish rang through the dark night, bringing an inexplicable sense of peace. Li Yan could smell the gang qi encircling the altar, forming a cohesive presence before rippling outward along with the strikes of the wooden fish. Hearing the sound, the maid felt as if granted an imperial pardon. She ceased calling at once, hoisted the soul-summoning banner onto her shoulder, and began trembling her way down from the roof. Though a ladder had been positioned beforehand, panic clouded her mind; she kept her eyes half-closed, afraid to look around, her limbs turning weak. Thud! Halfway down, her feet tangled, and she tumbled straight to the ground. Fortunately, the maid was quick-witted. Even though her backside ached terribly from the fall, she kept the soul-summoning banner held high, preventing it from being crushed. Scrambling up, she didn't even bother brushing off the dust. With a tear-streaked face and eyes brimming with fright, she held the banner aloft and sprinted toward the rear courtyard. Luckily, no human voice came from behind. The courtyard was cloaked in darkness. Guided by the dim moonlight and her familiarity with the layout, the maid soon reached the rear courtyard. Only when she saw the oil lamps Wang Daoxuan had lit beforehand did her heart ease slightly, feeling that this ghostly path had finally reached its end. Yet Wang Daoxuan and Li Yan drew in a sharp breath. Perched atop the soul-summoning banner she held was the unmistakable figure of a person! During temple fairs in the Central Plains, there was a folk custom known as "bearing the doll." Stout men stood below, fitted with specially made cast-iron frames, while young boys and girls stood perched atop them, rouged and powdered, clad in brocade robes, costumed as various deities and historical figures to accompany the deity procession. It was a folk performance meant to entertain the gods. The scene before them bore an uncanny resemblance to that custom. The difference was that the old woman atop the banner wore all black, exuding dense yin qi. Her face was ghastly white, her eyes pitch-black and lifeless, looking utterly terrifying. For a living soul to be visible to the naked eye was truly astounding. The maid had just begun to breathe easier, but catching the looks in their eyes, she instantly realized something was wrong. Not daring to look up, she stammered in terror, "Dao... Dao... Daoist..." "Don't be afraid!" Though he did not know the cause, Wang Daoxuan knew full well that nothing could go wrong at this juncture. A living soul was as skittish as a hare, hiding by instinct. By day it concealed itself in cracks between floor bricks, yet clinging to its mortal form, it appeared only at specific moments. If frightened, it would vanish in an instant, fleeing into the desolate wilds. Finding it again would be well-nigh impossible. And if it was scared into scattering completely, the First Madam inside would lose her life on the spot. Wang Daoxuan dared not be careless. He deliberately slowed his cadence and lowered his voice, instructing the maid, "It's fine. Don't be afraid. Just walk slowly into the room. Be careful not to blow out the soul-guiding lamps beside you." "Mm." The maid nodded and, holding the banner, walked tremulously toward the room. Meanwhile, the yin qi emanating from the First Madam's living soul atop the banner grew ever thicker. The soul-guiding lamps along the way flickered erratically, as if they might be extinguished at any second, leaving Wang Daoxuan's heart pounding in fear. Seeing this, Li Yan held his breath, hardly daring to exhale. Smelling an odor and seeing it with one's own eyes were completely different things. Fortunately, nothing went awry across that short distance. The instant the maid stepped into the room, the oil lamp at the head of the First Madam's bed flared with sparks, and her living soul vanished alongside it. Wang Daoxuan immediately looked at Li Yan. Li Yan had been paying close attention. He could smell that the chilly scent previously emitted by the living soul had attached itself to the First Madam, growing fainter by the moment. This was a sign of yin and yang harmonizing, returning to balanced tranquility. Without speaking, he gave Wang Daoxuan a nod. Without a word, Wang Daoxuan rushed into the room. Holding a long red cord, he wound it back and forth around the First Madam, his hands shifting rapidly until he tied a strange knot. Throughout this process, the soul-guiding lamp before the bed flickered wildly. At last, having bound the living soul, Wang Daoxuan unhooked a bell from his waist. After giving it several shakes, he began chanting an incantation: "Supreme Celestial Star, ever shifting without cease, protect life and shield the form, keep wisdom bright and serene, let mind and spirit be at peace, may the three hun endure forever, may the po suffer no harm or decay, let the hun return to its palace, let the po support the flesh..." Though Wang Daoxuan's cultivation stood at merely the first floor, he had clearly put in diligent practice in ordinary times. The moment he began chanting, he entered the trance. His voice carried a distinct cadence, resonant and far-reaching. With the chanting of the incantation, the soul-guiding lamp gradually steadied. Seeing this, Li Yan breathed a sigh of relief. Wang Daoxuan had mentioned that this was the sign of successfully anchoring the soul. Now that this job was accomplished, Wang Daoxuan could free himself from his current predicament and focus on helping him preserve his spirit and build a pavilion, formally stepping onto the path of Xuanmen cultivation. Whoosh~ Right at that moment, a gust of yin wind blew past. Li Yan's eyes widened instantly, and he looked around. That mysterious sweet fragrance had appeared once again!