Lost Souls

He Lingchuan cut the ropes binding Third Master Gan's legs and hauled him back to the ground. "Point the way. Where are we going?" "The west end of the county, by Mochou Lake." Third Master Gan looked left and right. "Are we already in the west of the county?" Here stood only a few abandoned thatched huts, not far from the town center; He Lingchuan had simply carried him here along the way. "Let's go, and don't try any tricks," He Lingchuan said sternly. "Your eldest brother was right—that Spirit Medium is bad news. A fool like you will only get burned dealing with it." The two rode westward on horseback. The entire journey was draped in diagonal wind and fine drizzle, filled with the scent of early summer. Once they reached the end of the official road, Third Master Gan guided him onto a small forest path. "Where is this leading?" Before long, the path opened up ahead, revealing a small stilted building halfway up the hill, nestled in a bamboo forest. Directly behind the building lay a body of lake water, likely the Mochou Lake Third Master Gan had spoken of. Building a cottage by the lake to listen to the ocean of bamboo and the rushing rain would usually evoke a poetic charm, but on this pitch-black, rainy night, the swaying shadows of the bamboo cast against the solitary building's outer wall looked instead like ravenous demons baring their fangs and brandishing their claws. The small yard outside was enclosed merely by a simple bamboo fence, its grounds blooming with a profusion of flowers. Three characters were inscribed upon the simple bamboo gate: Quiet Abode. He Lingchuan dismounted and shoved Third Master Gan forward. The latter could only brace himself and call out: "Is the Spirit Medium home?" Aside from the wind blowing and the trees swaying, there was no reply. Third Master Gan had no choice but to call out twice more, this time politely adding, "Excuse me." *Creak.* The bamboo gate swung open on its own. The two crossed the deserted courtyard and ascended the bamboo stairs. He Lingchuan pushed open the door and saw that the room's furnishings were exceedingly simple: A table and a chair. An oil lamp flickered on the table, alongside a bronze mirror engraved with patterns along its rim. Seated on the chair was a middle-aged woman. She sat ramrod straight, hands folded over her knees, her eyes staring unblinkingly at the two guests who had just stepped through the door. As the door opened, the night wind rushed in with a whoosh, violently tossing the oil lamp's flame and casting shifting shadows across the woman's face. She had pleasant features and a somewhat plump figure, appearing no different from any ordinary woman. Now, she offered the two a faint smile: "Why has Third Master Gan come in the dead of night? And who might this be?" "Luo..." Third Master Gan uttered only a single word before realizing his voice was hoarse. He coughed twice. "Did Luo Xun'yi come by?" "He did. He conveyed your final request," the Spirit Medium asked. "Is something the matter?" "I—I want to cancel the commission." Third Master Gan glanced at He Lingchuan. "Cancel it immediately!" "That wasn't a commission, but a request." The Spirit Medium's smile remained unchanged. "Third Master Gan has already used up his three requests. If you wish to cancel, that would be a fourth. I am terribly sorry, but I do not accept." "Hey! You can't do that!" Third Master Gan hit a brick wall, his face turning ashen. "Are you the target?" The Spirit Medium looked at He Lingchuan and slowly stood up. "I intended to seek you out tomorrow. Who would have thought you would deliver yourself right to my door? Very good, very good indeed." He Lingchuan grabbed Third Master Gan by the throat, squeezing until the man's eyes rolled back. "If you don't cancel it, I'll kill Third Master Gan. Does that not matter to you either?" "Since he spoke the words, the request must be fulfilled." The Spirit Medium turned the mirror on the table. "Whether he lives or dies." On high alert, He Lingchuan instinctively flicked his wrist, hurling two throwing daggers—one aimed at the Spirit Medium's throat, the other at the bronze mirror on the table. After months of grueling practice, he had finally mastered the essence of the technique, achieving what Hu Min called "where the gaze falls, the blade and arrow strike." Yet a colossal creature suddenly burst out of the mirror, blocking both throwing daggers in an instant. It was a sharp-horned ox. Once it landed on the floor, it was nearly as massive as the wild ox demons He Lingchuan had seen in Zhao Pan's army, its forward-pointing horns sharpened to a lethal point as if deliberately honed. For such an enormous beast to emerge from so small a mirror was a breathtaking spectacle, giving even He Lingchuan quite a fright. The two daggers pierced its hide like toothpicks stuck in a man, accomplishing nothing beyond provoking pain and fury. Lowering its head, it charged straight at the two of them, sweeping even Third Master Gan into its attack path. He Lingchuan had no choice but to grab Third Master Gan and leap into the air. The giant ox barreled past beneath their feet, crashing through the doorway in a shower of splintering wood. Before the two could land from midair, a horseman suddenly burst from the bronze mirror, charging toward them horse and all. Suspended in midair with no room to dodge, He Lingchuan simply used Third Master Gan as a human shield in front of him. Amid Third Master Gan's terrified howl, a concussive boom rang out as both were hurled backward, smashing right out of the cottage. Third Master Gan spat blood the moment he hit the ground, while He Lingchuan executed a midair flip and landed lightly on the flat earth outside the courtyard. The horseman wheeled around upon landing and charged at He Lingchuan again. By then, a second, third, and fourth rider had already emerged; clearly, the mirror was disgorging an endless stream of reinforcements. *What in the world? Is an entire cavalry unit hidden inside that thing?* Furthermore, through He Lingchuan's eyes, whether it was the giant ox or the cavalrymen, swirling black mist enveloped them all, and several malevolent ghosts clung to each of their bodies. Yes, the very same things that had once possessed the tusked boar. Evidently, these ghosts were puppeteering their every movement, pulling their strings like wooden marionettes. New figures continually poured from the mirror—foxes, wolves, sparrows, and even two starving tigers, all pouncing toward He Lingchuan in the same manner. Even if he managed to evade the ground assaults, dodging the airborne ones would prove difficult. Worst of all, they formed a tight perimeter around the bamboo building, using their bodies as a shield to prevent He Lingchuan from closing in. Yet right at that moment, the corner of the Spirit Medium's eye caught a shadow flitting across the roof beams inside. She was sharp, immediately clutching the bronze mirror from the table to retreat. However, the figure on the beam was already upon her, moving faster than a swooping swallow. Before he even touched down, a flash of blade light was already there. The Spirit Medium and the mirror held against her chest were cleaved clean in two! It was He Lingchuan's clone that had landed the strike. Back when he had used Third Master Gan as a human meat shield, he had quietly summoned his clone to leap onto the beams. At that precise moment, the horseman's high leap had blocked the Spirit Medium's view from behind. She had completely failed to notice a second "He Lingchuan" turning into a gentleman on the rafters. When dealing with monsters that summoned minions, He Lingchuan had long understood that to capture the bandits, one must first capture the chief. Without striking down the master, the lesser beasts and fiends would never cease. Sure enough, as the blade cleaved through, the Spirit Medium screeched and collapsed, the mirror in her arms splitting into two halves. Clean and decisive. She glared at He Lingchuan's clone with venomous malice. "You cannot escape. You too will soon die without a place to be buried!" With that, her body disintegrated into flying ash, leaving only two broken shards of the mirror on the floor. He Lingchuan picked up the shards and found that their power had vanished; it was nothing more than broken bronze now. Looking outside again, the malevolent ghosts entwined around the beasts and men had already dissipated. Everyone stood looking at one another in dumb silence, the air frozen. Then, in the blink of an eye, the beasts scattered and the birds took to the sky; even the two tigers darted into the mountain woods and vanished. Just like that, they dispersed like clouds before the wind. The seven or eight horsemen looked around blankly, seemingly unaware of where they were. Third Master Gan lay sprawled on the ground. Seeing He Lingchuan approach, he burst into foul curses, though after just two lines his chest seized up, and he had to cough several times before he could resume. *Damn this butcher, using me as a meat shield!* Seeing that while his face was bloody, his voice was still vigorous and he seemed largely unharmed, He Lingchuan hoisted him up and leaped back into the teetering bamboo building. Pointing at the hall, he asked: "The Spirit Medium turned to ash after I cut her down. What other ties do you have with her?" Why else would a dying demon speak with such absolute certainty, claiming He Lingchuan would soon die as well? *Damn it all,* that ominous remark reminded him of the old turtle demon's prophecy. "How should I know?" Third Master Gan retorted and began cursing again. He Lingchuan snatched a rag from the adjoining room and gagged his mouth. He stepped back outside. The horsemen were still where they were, barely moving atop their mounts, the men looking somewhat dazed. He Lingchuan walked over and asked, "Do you gentlemen have nowhere to go?" One of them answered, "Where is this place?" "Wuze County, Fu Kingdom. How did you end up possessed by malevolent ghosts?" The men exchanged glances. The same man spoke again: "We were on official business when a monstrous fiend took advantage of us. After that, we remember almost nothing." Seeing their sluggish reactions, He Lingchuan couldn't help but frown. "The evil ghosts are gone. Have you still not gathered your wits?" "For some reason, our minds feel groggy, and it's hard to concentrate." The man pondered for a moment before adding, "Is our mission still incomplete?" His companions all nodded. Facing these living men who resembled marionettes on strings, He Lingchuan felt a mixture of helplessness and wariness. "Could you state your identities first?" The Spirit Medium was dead; could the supernatural art binding these men still be lingering? The men held nothing back, piecing together an outline for He Lingchuan one line at a time. The matter was tied to Sha Cong, Grand Preceptor to the Jeweled Tree King of the Beijia Kingdom. His son, Sha Xinghai, had been thoroughly absentminded ever since returning from the Fu Kingdom. Upon investigation, it was determined that Sha Xinghai had actually lost one of his three spiritual souls and one of his seven corporeal souls. The Grand Preceptor's household was thrown into an uproar, dispatching this group of men to investigate thoroughly and recover what Young Master Sha had lost at all costs. These men had tracked the clues to the vicinity of Wuze County, only to encounter the Spirit Medium and end up captured themselves. During their period of possession, their memories were a complete blank; they could recall nothing at all. He Lingchuan scrutinized them and said, "Never mind Young Master Sha—it looks to me like you're all missing a soul or two as well." Why did he get the feeling that Sha Xinghai was the very "distinguished guest" Eldest Master Gan had hired the Spirit Medium to deal with? Think about it: he also hailed from the Beijia Kingdom. When the son of an esteemed Grand Preceptor arrived in a small border county of the Fu Kingdom, was it any wonder he looked down his nose at people? The leader of the group was named Wu Jinsong, and he admitted as much: "Well said. Though our bodies move freely, our perception of the outside world feels as though it's veiled behind thick gauze, and we can feel neither joy nor sorrow. Though this Spirit Medium is dead, our lost souls have not returned. Could they be hidden somewhere nearby?" The others chimed in, "Let's search by the lake again." In the dead of night, He Lingchuan had no intention of lingering to help them hunt for souls, so he gathered Third Master Gan and set out on the return journey. Wu Jinsong and his men still remembered to clasp their hands and thank him, and the two parties parted ways. After walking a few dozen paces, He Lingchuan glanced back before reentering the bamboo grove. The fence had collapsed, the stilted building was half ruined, and the bamboo gate lay flat upon the ground.