The light was dim, the drumbeats rapid.
The candle flames flanking the censer seemed endowed with spirit, dancing in rhythm with the drum.
Widow Wang's eyes narrowed slightly as she swayed her head, her expression gradually shifting.
First solemn, then manic, beads of sweat breaking out on her forehead.
Her head shook incessantly, the lyrics of her spirit tune accelerating faster and faster.
"Cast the immortal locks, bind with immortal ropes, lash the soul-snaring bottle behind the horse. Hurl the Three Treasures upon your disciple—if the hold is slack, kick with your heel; if the bind is loose, plant with your foot; let the heart see clear and bright as a lamp..."
Meanwhile, the little girl on the ground twitched with increasing violence in all four limbs.
To the beat of the spirit drum, her body arched. Yawning and stretching as if shaking off sleep, she rose bolt upright in an unnatural posture.
Once standing, her eyes remained shut tight, her head jerking rhythmically.
Li Yan's pupils narrowed. His hand instinctively pressed down on his hilt.
In the past, he would have thought mother and daughter were merely playing charlatans.
But times had changed.
Now, he could clearly smell that gamey rankness laced with incense ash shrinking inward from all directions, converging into the girl's small body.
As the two merged, her demeanor transformed completely.
*Dong!*
At last, the drum fell silent.
And the girl's eyes snapped open.
She shook her head, picked up the horsetail whisk resting nearby, and flicked it left and right as though brushing something away.
Then, crossing her right leg over her left, she balanced on the tip of one foot and leaned back, appearing to sit suspended in empty air as if upon an unseen chair.
Li Yan kept an impassive face, but inside he felt genuine disbelief.
Having practiced martial arts since childhood and relying on the substitute idol to hone formidable control over his body, he could perform such feats himself.
Yet for a four-year-old girl, it was utterly impossible.
And then there was her expression—eyes narrowed in a half-smile that was not a smile.
Languid yet laced with icy detachment, devoid of any childlike innocence.
Inexplicably, she gave off the distinct aura of a fox.
Unfazed by Li Yan's vigilance, the girl flicked the whisk in her hand.
*Whoosh!*
The wine jar upon the offering altar was instantly caught and swept directly into her grip.
Li Yan felt his eyelids twitch again.
A horsetail whisk was not unheard of as a weapon.
Its handle could serve as a short club or dagger—collapsing, parrying, poking, flicking, and thrusting—while its horsehair tail acted as a soft whip, wrapping, sweeping, and coiling. Rigid and supple combined, just like the interplay of yin and yang.
Anyone capable of wielding such a tool was an expert.
That unsealed jar of wine weighed at least five jin, yet she had coiled it up with the whisk's horsehair and drawn it in without spilling a single drop. The force was applied with exquisite precision.
For a moment, he felt a wave of disorientation.
If inviting a Xianjia into one's body could allow a four-year-old child to accomplish this, what had all his bitter, grueling martial training been for...?
Naturally unaware of his thoughts, the girl kept the whisk wrapped around the wine jar, raised its base with her left elbow, tilted her head back, and began gulping it down—*glug, glug, glug*.
*Burp—*
Having drained the entire jar of wine, the girl let out a resounding burp. Only then did she toss the jar aside in satisfaction, wipe her mouth, and squint at Li Yan.
A ghostly glint flickered in her eyes, as if scrutinizing him.
Then she opened her mouth, unleashing a flurry of gibberish.
The voice was shrill, yet carried a weathered, ancient rasp.
Stranger still, not a single syllable could be understood. It sounded like the snarling of beasts yet also like rapid-fire human muttering under one's breath.
Hearing this, Li Yan actually felt somewhat relieved.
He had heard people speak of this before: it was called the Shangfang tongue.
Simply put, it was the dialect spirits used to communicate among themselves, akin to their native tongue.
If she had spoken in human speech, that would have been an entirely different matter.
The fact that it could not do so showed the Xianjia's cultivation was only ordinary.
Beside them, Widow Wang was in an odd state of her own. Her eyes looked dazed as she respectfully leaned in to listen, after which she turned to Li Yan and said:
"The Xianjia says you have courted great trouble. You've been targeted by a cold-altar rampaging soldier. Last night was merely a probe. Once the house-protecting object breaks, disaster will fall upon you!"
They really did know a lot!
Li Yan narrowed his eyes. "What is a cold-altar rampaging soldier?"
The girl giggled snidely and rattled off another string of gibberish.
Widow Wang continued to interpret: "You are not yet a member of Xuanmen. Even if told, you would not understand; when the time comes to understand, you will naturally understand. The Xianjia asks you: which root have you opened?"
Which root?
Li Yan grew even more confused.
Seeming to perceive his confusion, Widow Wang explained directly: "A person possesses Six Roots: eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body, and mind. These correspond to the six consciousnesses: sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch, and thought.
"The Six Roots are further divided into Yin and Yang. Most people have only the Yin Six Roots, but a rare few can awaken the Yang Six Roots, allowing them to perceive things of the spiritual realm. This is also the key to truly stepping into Xuanmen."
Li Yan grew intrigued. "Like the Yin-Yang Eyes?"
Widow Wang nodded. "Precisely. Certain things can only be seen by mortals when they are near death, clash with baleful qi, or are smothered under dire misfortune. But those who have opened the Yang Six Roots can perceive them directly. Some call these divine powers.
"Yet having divine powers is both a blessing and a curse.
"For instance, some children who open their Yin-Yang Eyes are often frightened out of their wits, their souls scattering. Others open the ear root and constantly hear the whispers of ghosts and specters, driving them mad...
"Worse still, those who open the Yang Six Roots are coveted by evil, unclean entities. Without someone to guide and protect them, they rarely live in peace."
*So that's how it is.*
His bizarre sense of smell truly had nothing to do with the substitute idol.
Enlightened, Li Yan made no attempt to conceal it. "I can smell peculiar scents."
Widow Wang's expression turned slightly bitter. Looking at the girl with eyes brimming with tender affection, she explained, "You need not be on guard. We bear you no ill will. There is a reason I speak so plainly to you.
"My ancestors ran an incense hall. Alas, my destiny was shallow and my fortune meager. Though I opened a spiritual root, I failed to cross the threshold into the sect for the longest time, so my mother sealed my root to let me live an ordinary life. Later, enemies came knocking, and I alone survived the calamity, only to be abducted by human traffickers to Guanzhong. Then I married poorly, living a life stripped of human dignity.
"Pity this poor girl, suffering alongside me. When her father died, she was terrified out of her wits and opened her mind root, drawing the eyes of the wandering spirits and wild ghosts in the mountains.
"To save my child, I had no choice but to take up the cultivation path once more. Fortunately, our family's Third Aunt stayed with us all along, protecting the girl. But she is too young. Only after passing through the twenty-four solar terms—a full annual cycle—can she truly escape this disaster.
"The thing attached to Blind Old Third is called a cold-altar rampaging soldier. Having broken free of restraint, it is ravenously bloodthirsty. Even we cannot fight it, let alone provoke it.
"Had you been an ordinary mortal, destroying its physical host would merely have caused it to disperse and seek another vessel to attach itself to. But you happen to have awakened a spiritual root, so it targeted you and laid a curse upon you.
"It will not rest until it devours your three ethereal souls and seven corporeal souls and seizes your mortal body!"
Hearing Widow Wang recount the whole story, Li Yan felt a chill run through him, yet he remained calm and asked, "Senior, why are you telling me all this?"
At his question, the girl chattered another string of gibberish, sounding somewhat exasperated.
Widow Wang sighed helplessly. "My cultivation is lacking, and the protective measures I set up are far from sufficient. If your body is taken, that thing will notice my daughter too. When that time comes, neither of us will escape."
*So that's why.*
Li Yan said in a deep voice, "Is there a way to resolve this?"
Widow Wang said, "Chang'an City is home to countless temples and shrines, with no lack of Xuanmen practitioners presiding over them. If you can reach the city before nightfall and find an expert to shelter you, you might escape this calamity.
"However, your grandfather will likely suffer its vengeance in your stead."
Hearing this, Li Yan shook his head. "That will not do."
Given the current means of travel, reaching Chang'an City in time was impossible to begin with; and even if he could make it, he would never abandon his grandfather.
Widow Wang seemed to have anticipated his refusal. After muttering back and forth with the girl for a moment, she spoke again: "There is another way that might work, but it depends on whether you have the guts for it!"
Li Yan said solemnly, "Please tell me."
Things having reached this point, he had no choice left.
Widow Wang and the Xianjia might be keeping some secrets, but for now their goals were aligned: both needed to avert this catastrophe. He could only choose to trust them.
Widow Wang instructed, "Prepare two large roosters. Soak millet in your own blood, gather some peach-wood shavings and ashes from your own hair, stir them all together, and feed it to the roosters.
"That thing will strike at the Zi hour. Use red cord to tether a rooster outside the gate, then dig a three-foot pit in the ground and bury yourself inside.
"Failing to find you, the rampaging soldier will mistake the rooster for you. Tomorrow at dawn, slit open the dead rooster's belly and see if black water oozes from its viscera.
"If black water flows out, erect a pyre of willow wood at high noon and burn the carcass to ash."
"And if it fails?"
"If it fails, set the second one out tomorrow night.
"Remember, there is a taboo with this method. No matter what you hear or see, stay carefully hidden. Under no circumstance must you break from the earth!"
Having spoken her piece, the girl yawned, snot and tears streaming down her face. Like a deflated ball, she collapsed onto the floor and fell fast asleep, snoring away.
Evidently, uttering those few sentences had utterly exhausted her.
Li Yan naturally took his leave to return and make preparations.
The moment he stepped outside, the foul stench hit him square in the face again.
Covering his nose and looking at the reeking clay jars, Li Yan could not help asking, "Can these things truly keep specters and evil spirits at bay?"
Widow Wang's face twisted with bitterness, and she shook her head.
"They cannot block ghosts, but they can ward off something far more terrifying.
"And... they keep out meddlesome idlers."
...
In the village, large roosters were not hard to find.
Li Yan's household raised several, but to keep his grandfather from growing suspicious and asking questions, he bought two from another family in the village.
Both possessed crimson combs and colorful plumage, strutting with proud vigor.
Roosters heralded the dawn and conquered the five venomous pests; folk beliefs held that they could dispel evil and ward off disaster.
Yet as Li Yan gazed at the two birds, he could smell nothing extraordinary on them. Moreover, the method Widow Wang provided did not involve any magical implements or talismans.
What was the underlying principle behind it all?
Though puzzled, Li Yan executed the instructions strictly.
He crushed peach branches into pulp, snipped his hair to burn into ash, and mixed both with millet and his own fresh blood. Having starved the roosters for the day, he fed the mixture to them just as the sun was about to set.
As for the pit, he had already dug it inside his room during the day while his grandfather was outside basking in the sun, lining it with oilcloth and concealing it beneath loose dirt.
Before long, night fell.
Well before the Zi hour, all of Fort Li had sunk into darkness and silence.
With the fifteenth of the lunar month fast approaching, the moonlight was bright, casting a frost-like sheen across the ground.
Dressed in short tunic and trousers with his leg wraps tightly bound, Li Yan used blood-soaked red cord to tie the rooster to a small tree outside the gate.
Then he shut and bolted the main gate and returned to his room.
The loose dirt he had excavated was piled along both sides of the trench; pulling away the oilcloth underneath brought it cascading down with a rustle, burying him beneath.
Clutching his Guanshan blade, Li Yan breathed through nothing more than a slender bamboo tube.
The sensation of being buried alive was deeply unsettling. Though only a thin layer of soil covered him, it felt akin to drowning; darkness, helplessness, and dread welled up unbidden in his heart.
Not to mention having to face that unknown cold-altar rampaging soldier.
Fortunately, years of martial arts training had forged Li Yan's resilient mind. He held his breath, calmed his thoughts, and waited in silence.
Being buried in the dirt posed another problem: his hearing was muffled. Faint tapping noises like those from the previous night were impossible to detect.
All Li Yan could do was wait.
Without realizing it, the entire night slipped by.
Once the deep hours of the night passed and faint rooster crows drifted in, Li Yan exerted force in both arms, shoved aside the oilcloth, burst from the earth, and rushed outside with blade in hand.
Dawn had not yet broken, but the scene outside the gate was clearly visible.
Just as Widow Wang had said, the large rooster tied outside was dead as dead could be. Droppings littered the ground, and its neck was twisted at a grotesque angle.
Without a word, Li Yan slit open the rooster's belly, and his face instantly darkened.
Inside the rooster's abdomen, the internal organs were mangled into a tangled knot.
It was a bloody, mangled mess, yet not a drop of black water flowed out...
Chapter 7