Soul Pill

*Thud!* After a dull noise outside, all went deathly silent. Qin Sang hurriedly threw the quilt over the things on the bed and dashed out the door, only to find Old Wu slumped motionless at the base of the wall. A wisp of black qi churned over Old Wu's body. Then the malevolent ghost emerged from inside him, clamping Old Wu's soul in its mouth. The moment it saw Qin Sang, it spat out Old Wu's soul and shrank into the corner of the wall. Qin Sang froze where he stood, caught utterly at a loss. Old Wu's soul stood completely still, as insubstantial as a clump of grayish-white smoke. His face held no expression, and his dull, lifeless eyes stared straight ahead, creating a chilling spectacle. *It doesn't seem to be like my soul. Old Wu's soul is just as tall as his physical body. Could that be because of my cultivation of the Nether Scripture?* Qin Sang mentally cursed himself for letting his thoughts wander at a time like this. He quickly crouched down and placed a finger before Old Wu's nose; he felt no breath. Checking his chest, the heartbeat had stopped as well. He was dead. Qin Sang looked up with mixed emotions and called out softly, "Old Wu, do you still recognize me?" Old Wu's eyes turned toward Qin Sang. After a pause, he answered in a completely flat voice, "I do." Qin Sang was taken aback. He had merely asked on an impulse and truly had not expected Old Wu's soul to answer. Wasn't Old Wu mute? Yet his soul could speak. Looking closely now, Old Wu's soul appeared far younger than he had in life, and his back was not hunched at all. Qin Sang silently guessed that the muteness, the aged appearance, and the hunchback were likely only physical conditions caused by disease and the hardships of life, leaving his soul unaffected. After all, Old Wu was only forty years old, so it was only natural for his soul to look young. In his past life, a forty-year-old could still be called a young adult. Stared at so blankly by Old Wu's soul with a malevolent ghost crouching nearby, Qin Sang felt his hair stand on end. Yet what weighed heavier was guilt. Though he had no deep friendship with Old Wu, they had lived under the same roof for half a year, and Old Wu had died because of his own recklessness. "Old Wu, every wrong has its head, every debt its debtor. The thing that killed you is over there—look closely. If you make a name for yourself in the Netherworld later and want to come back for revenge, remember to seek it out." Qin Sang pointed earnestly at the ghost in the corner, trying his best to persuade him, though he felt he was only fooling himself. "Old Wu, do you have any unfulfilled wishes? Oh right, your family... Is anyone from your family still alive? Could those two sons of yours possibly have survived?" Old Wu said in a flat tone, "I have no family." Qin Sang found himself at a loss, not knowing what else to say. Being stared at by Old Wu made him uneasy. He wanted to urge Old Wu to look on the bright side—since he was already dead, he might as well hurry on to reincarnate. What was the point of just standing there? In his heart, Qin Sang felt that for Old Wu, death might not necessarily be a bad thing. Rejoining his family in the underworld was far better than living like a walking corpse. Yet he felt thinking so was too shameless, and he could not bring himself to say it aloud. A deathly silence hung in the room. Before long, Old Wu's soul wavered a few times and dissolved into a wisp of soul mist, drifting toward the malevolent ghost. The ghost glanced at Qin Sang, cautiously raised its head to inhale, and sucked all the soul mist into its mouth before shrinking back down. Qin Sang did not know how to stop it. He glared at the ghost, watching helplessly as it devoured Old Wu, and realized that this creature was an absolute menace. If he could not make the ghost obey his every command and allowed it to run rampant, there was no telling how many innocent people would be harmed in the future. Enemies were one thing, but what if it attacked family or friends? Qin Sang could only count his blessings that the ones knocking on his door just now had not been the old Daoist priest and Mingyue. His goal in seeking immortality was longevity, not becoming a bloodthirsty fiend. If he could not control the ghost, he would rather shelve the Yanluo Banner and lock it away. Qin Sang rose to his feet, took a step forward, and stopped. He turned to look at Old Wu's corpse, lost in thought. Old Wu had died right before his door, and the aftermath had to be handled cleanly; otherwise, trouble would follow. Before Old Wu's body grew stiff, Qin Sang lifted him up, kicked open Old Wu's door, laid him flat on the bed, and pulled the quilt over him. Old Wu's soul had been reaped directly, leaving no external injuries on his body. Even an official coroner would find nothing amiss. After tidying up every small trace, Qin Sang backed out of the room, closed the door tightly, and leaned against the wall, letting out a long breath. His heart remained heavy. Glancing at the ghost, Qin Sang strode back into his room, picked up the Yanluo Banner from the floor, and recalled the text from the scripture, yet he still did not know how to recall the ghost. Frowning in thought for a moment, Qin Sang had no choice but to repeat his earlier method, channeling the newly recovered wisp of qi in his body into the Yanluo Banner. The chapter titled *Yanluo Banner* detailed how to control the banner. This time, no ghost lunged at his face. Qin Sang silently recited the scripture. When he finished, the Yanluo Banner moved without any wind, and a deep, dim glow suddenly lit up along the black flagstaff. The three characters 'Yanluo Banner' shone especially bright. These gleams of light gradually converged toward Qin Sang's palm and finally sank into his body. Immediately afterward, an influx of text surged into Qin Sang's mind. Qin Sang was secretly amazed. Reading through the text, he discovered that not only did it contain explanations of the Yanluo Banner and the ghost within it, but it also held an incantation to refine the banner. It turned out the Yanluo Banner was not an immortal's weapon as Qin Sang had guessed, but an auxiliary tool for cultivating the *Nether Scripture*. However, the ghost reared inside the Yanluo Banner was called a Yanwang. Though its power was on the weaker side, once refined through the incantation, it could also be commanded to confront enemies, making the Yanluo Banner serviceable as a weapon. Even so, the greatest use of the Yanluo Banner remained aiding in the cultivation of the *Nether Scripture*. Just cultivating the first layer of the *Nether Scripture*, even with the aid of medicinal baths, had taken Qin Sang well over half a year. One could imagine that reaching higher layers in the future would surely be even more difficult; who knew how many years it would take to cultivate to the peak sixth layer? With the assistance of the Yanluo Banner, things would be different. After the Yanwang within the banner devoured human souls or yin baleful qi, it would nurture a Soul Pill. Cultivators could take the Soul Pill and hold it in their palms while meditating, drawing upon its power to drastically accelerate their cultivation speed. Of course, the Yanluo Banner was not without its perils. The text warned cultivators never to grow greedy and to exercise the utmost caution when using the banner for cultivation, lest the Yanwang turn upon its master. Reading up to this point, Qin Sang broke into a cold sweat in retrospect. This Yanluo Banner was the relic of the man in black. The man had possessed formidable strength and had been able to suppress the Yanwang. But Qin Sang had only just reached the second layer of the *Nether Scripture*—no wonder the Yanwang inside the banner had rebelled. If not for the protection of the jade Buddha, he might already be drinking Meng Po's soup. This also served as a stark warning to Qin Sang: there were far too many bizarre and sinister things in this world, and he had to proceed with caution in everything he did from now on. Thinking of the jade Buddha, Qin Sang fell into contemplation. Since the Yanwang feared the jade Buddha, did that mean he did not need to worry about a backlash? Yet the moment he recalled the terrifying sight of the ghost lunging straight for his face, Qin Sang decided it was better to remain cautious. After all, he did not know just how powerful the jade Buddha truly was or whether it could keep the Yanwang suppressed indefinitely. Committing the incantation to memory, Qin Sang set about refining the Yanluo Banner. When the refinement was complete, a marvelous sensation washed over him—the Yanluo Banner seemed connected to his very bloodline, having become an extension of his own body.