"In 'creating a curse,' the 'curse' refers to suppression sorcery.
"Suppression sorcery is the art of cursing and deluding others through a specific medium, bringing constant misfortune and even death upon them!
"Cursing someone with a straw effigy, stamping on someone's name pasted to the sole of a shoe... these are all forms of suppression sorcery.
"And the reason suppression sorcery works at all is entirely because ghosts and gods are meddling behind the scenes!
"Human malice draws the gaze of ghosts and gods, and disaster naturally dogs whoever is caught beneath their stare.
"To create a curse is to thoroughly solidify that gaze of a ghost or god—drawn forth by human malice—within the caster's Eight Doors. This preserved, solidified 'gaze' or 'shadow' of a ghost or god is also known as a 'warding spirit.'
"Thus, creating a curse may also be called 'creating a warding spirit'!"
Chang Dafeng spoke with a chilling look in his eyes.
A gust of yin wind blew past, and the bloated corpse manifestation noiselessly appeared beside him.
That shadow, resembling the bloated giant form of a corpse, was Chang Dafeng's warding spirit.
Ding Ling could only catch fleeting glimpses of Chang Dafeng's warding spirit from the corner of her eye, but from Zhou Yang's perspective, it was strikingly conspicuous. It stood not far in front of Ding Ling, so prominent that Zhou Yang could see it at all times without even trying.
"My Opening Door bloated corpse manifestation warding spirit is right in front of you. Can you see it?" Chang Dafeng asked Ding Ling.
Ding Ling hesitated, then shook her head. "I have a faint, bad feeling. But I can't see it clearly."
She described her sensation honestly.
Chang Dafeng gave an eerie smile and said, "Once your Right Thought grows stronger, you'll be able to see it.
"When a warding spirit lingers on an ordinary person, at the mildest it brings chills and fevers, like a child struck with terror, weeping day and night in delirium; at worst, it brings serious illness and cuts short their lifespan. With one at your side, even big, burly men will steer clear of you like the plague.
"Yet its most critical use isn't for bullying common folk.
"Rather, you can use it to impart various kinds of spiritual vitality to the gods you portray on stage, allowing the stage figures to channel the divine—just as though you had invited a god to possess you and grant you divine aid!
"That way, you will have the backing to contend on stage with ghosts."
"A warding spirit is the shadow of a ghost or god, or the gaze of one, resting in the Eight Doors. Now Li Yichun has been killed by a ghost, and Qian Heng encountered the ghost in Daliang Village before he died..." Ding Ling pondered for a moment before speaking. "If I use their names right now, can I directly draw the shadow of a ghost or god? So I wouldn't need to follow the procedure in the draft, and could create a warding spirit much faster?"
This deduction was entirely Ding Ling's own thinking.
Zhou Yang had not prompted her in the slightest.
Hearing this, Chang Dafeng nodded with a forced smile. "Aren't you clever!
"However, the names of Qian Heng and Li Yichun are tainted with the aura of the ghost in Daliang Village.
"If you directly use that ghost's aura to create a curse, aren't you afraid of drawing the ghost back here once more?"
Ding Ling's expression froze.
Zhou Yang also frowned inwardly.
Every procedure in the *Draft of Playing Gods and Painting Ghosts* had its purpose and could not be omitted lightly.
Right now, Chang Dafeng was guiding Ding Ling, and even a slight misstep carried the risk of disastrous error. Learning the draft's contents on his own, Zhou Yang would need to be even more cautious and adhere strictly to every procedure.
Just like now, Ding Ling thought she had spotted a shortcut.
In reality, that shortcut might very well lead straight into another deadly peril.
"Is the false abdomen sewn yet?"
Chang Dafeng offered no further explanation to Ding Ling, looking down at the false abdomen she was finishing stitching.
Though Ding Ling had been conversing with Chang Dafeng, her hands had not slowed in the least.
In this short span of time, she had singed away the fur on the piece of roe deer hide she had cut off and sewn it into a fist-sized pouch.
Only a few stitches remained, leaving an opening just right for stuffing things inside.
Seeing this, Chang Dafeng opened several opera trunks, picked out some garments, gathered them before him, and instructed Ding Ling, "Pick out a few pieces of clothing that Qian Heng and Li Yichun often wore, and bind them around your waist.
"Then go stand in the northwest corner of the courtyard, and silently chant: *I am Qian Heng, I am Li Yichun.*
"Keep chanting relentlessly. Once you catch a glimpse from the corner of your eye—seeing Qian Heng and Li Yichun standing elsewhere, seeming both real and unreal—don't make a sound. Walk over here to the main hall, and cast the clothes tied to your waist into the brazier to burn them to ash.
"I will tell you what to do next when the time comes."
What Chang Dafeng described was already different from the Opening Door ritual recorded in the *Draft of Playing Gods and Painting Ghosts*.
The first step of the Opening Door ritual required the practitioner to write someone's name on a slip of paper, dab it with their own blood, and during the Wei Hour, bury it along with the person's undergarments, hair, skin dander, and other items in the northwest position of the Qian Sixth Palace.
The procedure Chang Dafeng was now teaching Ding Ling bypassed writing the names and smearing blood.
Nor did it require Ding Ling to bury Qian and Li's personal clothing specifically during the Wei Hour.
Instead, it demanded that Ding Ling bind dead men's clothes to herself, stand in the northwest corner, and continuously call out their names.
*Could doing it this way directly draw the aura of the ghost in Daliang Village without actually alerting the ghost itself?*
Zhou Yang pondered.
Neither he nor Ding Ling knew what Chang Dafeng had up his sleeve.
Yet Chang Dafeng was currently their guide on the path of creating a warding spirit.
Even with doubts, they had no choice but to brace themselves and follow Chang Dafeng's instructions.
Fortunately, besides this method of creating a warding spirit, the two of them still had the Ghost Breath at their disposal.
If they discovered that Chang Dafeng had planted a hidden trap while imparting the technique, Zhou Yang was confident that with their combined Right Thought exceeding the extreme limit, he could activate the Ghost Breath and break free from Chang Dafeng's trap.
Ding Ling picked out a few commonly worn garments from the pile of Qian and Li's clothes and bound them around her waist.
Following Troupe Leader Chang's directions, she went to stand beneath the courtyard wall in the northwest corner, lowered her eyelids, and single-mindedly began her silent recitation:
"I am Qian Heng...
"I am Li Yichun..."
She was Ding Ling; even if she recited dead men's names eight hundred times, there was no way she could actually turn into those deceased men.
Yet reciting it over and over, constantly planting suggestions in her own mind, there were bound to be fleeting moments where Ding Ling's mind drifted into a trance, genuinely feeling as though she had become the dead Qian Heng and Li Yichun.
The voices and countenances of the dead flitted through her mind.
Those two faces drifting across her thoughts shifted from lively to lifeless, eventually solidifying into how they looked after death.
A bone-chilling cold swept across Ding Ling's back like a gust of wind.
It also felt as though two icy, rigid hands had rested on her shoulders.
*These are Qian Heng and Li Yichun's hands!*
Ding Ling shuddered. Her eyes shifted, and involuntarily, she glanced behind her from the corner of her eye—right there, Qian Heng and Li Yichun stood grim and sinister in her peripheral vision.
At first glance, she didn't recognize the two dead men.
By the time she recognized them, their figures had already vanished from the corner of her eye!
A layer of cold sweat broke out across Ding Ling's back!
Although she could no longer see any trace of the two dead men from the corner of her eye, the sensation of two cold, stiff palms gripping her shoulders did not dissipate in the least!
"Don't make a sound. Go to the main hall.
"The two of them are standing right behind you."
Mr. Zhou's reminder sounded in Ding Ling's mind right on cue.
Fixing her gaze on the tips of her shoes and holding her breath, she slowly paced toward the entrance of the main hall.
Throughout this process, Zhou Yang could clearly see the figures of Qian and Li, each resting a ghastly pale hand on Ding Ling's left and right shoulders, following behind her with chilling malice as they stepped into the main hall one after the other.
The distinct "bearing" emanating from these two dead men's shadows felt deeply familiar to Zhou Yang.
With a moment's thought, he recalled that this bearing came from none other than the "opera ghost" in Daliang Village!
*This is the opera ghost's "ghost rhythm."
*Just as a person who reads poetry and literature, undergoes worldly trials, or immerses themselves in a craft will over time naturally develop an "aura"—an aura that is invisible, yet silently permeates everything, leaving a profound and indelible impression upon anyone who meets them...
*Ghosts possess a similar aura.
*Likewise difficult to describe, yet equally unforgettable.
*A ghost's aura is its ghost rhythm.
*The opera ghost's rhythm clung to the names of those two dead men. Even though the opera ghost is not here, its ghost rhythm has yet to fade—and creating a warding spirit requires precisely this sort of ghost rhythm and ghostly aura!*
An epiphany welled up within Zhou Yang.
Once inside the main hall, Ding Ling untied the clothes from her waist and tossed them all into the brazier by the door.
Watching the fierce flames devour the garments, the two dead men's shadows behind Ding Ling actually melted away like wax candles, and the scent of burning joss sticks and candles filled the air!
Chang Dafeng, who had also been standing by the entrance, brought out the ghost candle—
The scent of burning incense and candles churning in the air converged toward the ghost candle, causing an eerie green flame to suddenly flare up from its wick.
The flame flickered vigorously, casting two silhouettes onto the wall—one tall and burly, the other tall and gaunt.
From their shapes and postures, they were unmistakably the dead Qian Heng and Li Yichun!
"I've pinned them down!
"Quickly, use your blood to press several fingerprints inside the false abdomen!"
Chang Dafeng barked hoarsely, holding the candle.
Ding Ling dared not hesitate and immediately complied.
Biting her fingertip open, she reached inside the false abdomen and, using her blood as ink, repeatedly pressed several fingerprints within.
As soon as she withdrew her finger, Chang Dafeng flicked the wick of the ghost candle, splitting the sickly green flame in two. One flame remained burning atop the candle, while the other was swiftly tossed by him into the false abdomen in Ding Ling's hands!
The originally limp false abdomen suddenly puffed up as if stuffed full, swelling until it resembled a tightly clenched fist!
"Pin the opening shut with the needle!"
The contents inside the false abdomen twitched and thrashed relentlessly, on the verge of forcing open the unstitched gap Ding Ling had left. Chang Dafeng hastily called out another warning.
By now, the dead shadows of Qian and Li had vanished from the wall.
They must have been drawn into Ding Ling's false abdomen along with that spark of candle flame.
Quick of eye and deft of hand, Ding Ling grabbed the needle and thread. Not bothering to stitch the opening shut properly, she merely wound the needle around the slit several times, pinning the opening closed for now.
Now, no matter how the "thing" inside rammed left and right, it could find no way out.
"Sing along with me!"
Chang Dafeng bent down, drew the stabbing dagger concealed under his trouser leg, straightened up, and handed it to Ding Ling.
With his other hand still holding the burning ghost candle steadily, his expression turned solemn, and his entire demeanor instantly radiated an aura of righteous grandeur. He opened his mouth and projected:
"A belly full of learning cast to jackals and wolves—better to tear it out and show the common folk—"
Chapter 36