Five Yin Pouch

Zhou Wuji knew quite a bit about the Yin-Yang Dao. These people used deities as a front to draw in common folk from the lowest rungs of society. In the grass sheds, that crowd of ragged, dust-streaked men and women all wore black-and-white cord loops around their necks, marking them as followers of the Yin-Yang Dao. Whether they had joined willingly or under duress, once ordinary people entered the Yin-Yang Dao, they could never break free, left with no choice but to be exploited until death. Zhou Wuji could understand the villagers' helplessness. The crushing weight of survival was like drowning; in such circumstances, one would clutch desperately at even a single straw. Yet the Yin-Yang Dao was no straw. It was a venomous serpent that devoured flesh and souls... One only had to look around: nearby hung two corpses, clearly strung upside down until they died. And that decapitated man had been slaughtered without even knowing what wrong he had committed. As for Fang Dashan before him, though he stood at the bottom rungs of the Yin-Yang Dao, he already wielded absolute power of life and death over ordinary believers. Zhou Wuji had no time to listen to Fang Dashan's nonsense. He stepped forward a few paces and raised a hand, unleashing his Tianshu true qi. Channeled through the Tianshu Hand, the true qi struck like an invisible iron hammer, slamming heavily into Fang Dashan's chest. It caved his sternum deep inward, blowing his heart apart on the spot. Clutching his chest, Fang Dashan staggered two steps and collapsed limply to the ground. Bleeding from his seven apertures, he let out two miserable groans before quickly drawing his last breath. Zhou Wuji went over to examine Fang Dashan's corpse, primarily to gauge the true might of that palm strike. Judging from the destructive effect, it was roughly equivalent to a punch carrying over a thousand jin of force. However, Fang Dashan's martial arts were too crude, and his physical resilience was lacking. Had he been a seventh-rank martial artist, his internal and external force would have been unified and refined to the point where not even a single feather could be added. When this ranged palm strike struck, such an opponent would only need to contract their muscles and organs to easily neutralize sixty or seventy percent of its force. The remaining power would pose no threat to a seventh-rank martial artist. Clearly, one still had to rely on weapons; one could not dream of clashing against martial artists with bare fists and palms. Zhou Wuji looked toward the Yin-Yang Dao believers in the grass shed. Seeing Fang Dashan dead, they felt neither excitement nor joy; instead, they hurriedly knelt and prayed with devout fervor. "Yang Father and Yin Mother, boundless is your divine grace. Protect your disciples to be reborn in the heavenly realm, to enjoy endless blessings and longevity..." Faced with these ignorant believers, Zhou Wuji was at a loss for words. When ordinary mortals died, their spiritual nature shattered immediately—what rebirth could there possibly be? Only those with powerful divine souls had any chance of rebirth. And only when a divine soul grew powerful to the utmost and ascended to the heavenly realm could one hope to break free from the bounds of life and death. Beyond that, all notions of longevity were sheer delusion. Zhou Wuji knew the believers held absolute faith in this, as it was their only hope of escaping the misery of reality. Even if it was an illusion, it was at least something to look forward to... Zhou Wuji did not try to dissuade those believers. Once someone fell for such twisted heresies, repentance was virtually impossible. Sword in hand, he walked over to the red-furred, long-armed apes. Thrusting his blade straight down through the crown of the skull, he first slew the highest-ranking ape king. The brute was exceptionally massive and very easy to distinguish. Striking from this angle also prevented the ape king from putting up a desperate, dying struggle. Whatever drug the Yin-Yang Dao had used, it was overwhelmingly potent; the ape king died without making a sound or showing any reaction. Zhou Wuji was relieved. He dispatched the other four demon apes one sword thrust each, finishing them cleanly and efficiently. He searched Fang Dashan's corpse. Finding no documents, he found only a few silver leaf flakes and some copper coins, alongside a bronze medallion engraved with a nine-petaled lotus, likely an identity token of the Yin-Yang Dao. Zhou Wuji did not take the money—not out of any pretense of aloof virtue, but because the believers would certainly search the corpse. With that money, they might at least live a little better. Leaving the grass sheds, Zhou Wuji walked several li up the mountainslope before choosing a sheltered spot to sit down. Zhou Wuji took an inedia pill, feeling in high spirits. One could only say the demonic beasts were foolish. Once their habits were figured out, two ninth-rank martial artists from the Yin-Yang Dao, leading a bunch of ordinary villagers, managed to capture all the demon apes. Had it been him, he could only have pinned his hopes on the White Brow Needles and the Seven Stars Sword. His spells were hardly suited to subduing such formidable beasts. These creatures could leap across sheer cliffs and precipices as if flying; if they truly fled, there would be nowhere to track them down. Still, he wondered what the Yin-Yang Dao wanted with these apes. To say the Yin-Yang Dao lacked experts was only true in comparison to the major factions. To him, the Yin-Yang Dao's methods were sinister and unpredictable, not something to be underestimated. While he still had time, Zhou Wuji decided to refine the Five Yin Pouch first. The foundation of the Five Yin Pouch was actually the Five Ghosts Transport Method, which Daoist predecessors had improved and refined, replacing the ghosts with privately kept yin soldiers condensed into a pouch. It could trap enemies directly like a cowl, and could also be used to store items. The Five Yin Pouch was likely of little use against experts, but it was exceptionally well-suited for dealing with weak demonic creatures like the gold-ring poison bees. Another point was that it was very convenient for stowing things away in daily life. An eighth-rank Daoist did not even own a Daoist temple and lacked incense offerings to nurture yin soldiers, making it virtually impossible to refine a Five Yin Pouch. Even if one did refine it, one had to continually invest incense and faith power to sustain the state of the yin spirits. If the yin spirits grew too powerful, they would turn back and devour their master. Therefore, yin spirits always had to be suppressed with a ritual altar, released only when needed to form the Five Yin Pouch. Zhou Wuji, relying on the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment, could bypass an altar entirely and store the yin spirits within the book. No matter how strong the yin spirits became, they could never break free from the shackles of the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment. When he chose the Five Yin Pouch back then, it was precisely because he knew he could leverage the power of the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment to save himself endless trouble. Zhou Wuji unfolded the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment: three seventh-rank demonic beasts, six eighth-rank demonic beasts. Logically speaking, the stronger the yin spirits that formed the Five Yin Pouch, the better. However, turning several seventh-rank demonic beasts into yin spirits would be too wasteful. His cultivation was limited; the Five Yin Pouch was not simply better the stronger it became. Rather, it had to match his cultivation so he could wield it with ease. Thinking of this, Zhou Wuji first picked out three destiny patterns of over two liang and invested them directly into the Five Yin Pouch. Purple light descended. As though through decades of day-in, day-out practice, his Five Yin Pouch attained the Proficient realm. Feeling that was still insufficient, Zhou Wuji invested two more destiny patterns of two liang and five qian, converting them into primordial profound spirit to continue advancing the spell. This time, the spell advanced by only one tier, reaching the Minor Accomplishment realm. Yet Zhou Wuji had already fully grasped the secret methods of the Five Yin Pouch, reaching a level of utmost purity and unimpeded mastery. At this stage, Zhou Wuji understood every operation and variation of the Five Yin Pouch down to the finest detail, and he knew what kind of yin spirits would be most appropriate. Using the seventh-rank ape king as the central hub, he converted it into a yin spirit, applied his spiritual awareness brand upon it, and then turned the four eighth-rank demon apes into yin spirits as well. Woven together, the five yin spirits formed the Five Yin Pouch. With the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment, the hassle of establishing an altar was eliminated. Naturally, doing so violated numerous precepts of the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment. Numerous lines of crimson text appeared across the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment, marking the precepts he had broken. Fortunately, behind each precept was inscribed: All Exempt. The consequences of breaking the precepts were dire; if even a single one were not exempt, his fate would be death on the spot. Yet Zhou Wuji had grown accustomed to ignoring these warnings of violated precepts. Silently circulating his spiritual awareness, he laid layer upon layer of spell restrictions upon the central ape king yin spirit. The key to the Five Yin Pouch lay in controlling the central yin spirit; with the other four yin spirits commanded by the hub, the wielder was spared a great deal of mental effort. One had to realize that this spell had far too many restrictions; hardly anyone ever practiced it. Furthermore, the technique was intricate and complex; even practicing it for a lifetime might not bring one to the Adept tier. Zhou Wuji had raised the Five Yin Pouch to the Minor Accomplishment realm, making him an exceptionally formidable master in this specific art—at the very least, unsurpassed within the Lower Court. By daybreak, Zhou Wuji had successfully refined the Five Yin Pouch. Seizing the moment before the sun climbed over the mountains, while the five yin spirits could still be used without hindrance, Zhou Wuji activated the Five Yin Pouch, casting it over a large boulder. The Five Yin Pouch resembled a swath of black gauze, hazy and drifting. The shrouded boulder measured a good five feet square; he estimated it weighed at least three thousand jin. As he reeled in the Five Yin Pouch, the massive boulder vanished into thin air. Upon his palm appeared an intricate black runic sigil—the vanished Five Yin Pouch. Although the Five Yin Pouch had been recalled, because it was woven from five yin spirits, it drained his true qi and mental power—his spiritual awareness—every passing moment. Fortunately, with the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment to rely on, he could store the Five Yin Pouch directly inside it. He needed neither to erect a ritual altar nor to nourish the yin spirits with incense. The Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment stated clearly: Command Ghosts and Spirits. The Five Yin Pouch could be considered a variation of commanding ghosts and spirits. Within the Northern Emperor's Book of Heavenly Punishment, a single page was dedicated to bearing the Five Yin Pouch, detailing its various particulars. Zhou Wuji sat for a while, sensing that the strain of using the Five Yin Pouch was manageable; outside of intense combat, he could maintain it for five or six shichen. The space within the Five Yin Pouch was roughly five feet across; when unfurled, it covered a vast area, more than sufficient to deal with the gold-ring poison bees. He felt a slight pang of regret: the flesh, blood, and internal organs of demonic beasts all held a certain value. If he had refined the Five Yin Pouch yesterday, he could at least have packed away the tiger demon...