Chapter Eight: The Qian Family

Shen Chang'an's expression was far from pleasant, and the old Taoist's face was equally grim. Each was preoccupied with his own thoughts, and for a while, neither spoke a word. They walked along the main road for quite some time, until the old Taoist's stomach began to rumble audibly, prompting the two to exchange a glance at last.

"Master, it's time to find a place to eat," Shen Chang'an said.

He himself was in no danger of going hungry, but the old Taoist, being of advanced age, had not had a proper meal in days. If he continued to starve, something unfortunate was bound to happen.

The old Taoist shuffled about in place, stamping his foot, before finally muttering, "Let's go to the Qian family."

"Master, do you know someone there?" Shen Chang'an asked.

"Know them? That's putting it lightly. As for their debts to me—hmph, hmph..." The old Taoist trailed off, grinding his teeth, his face clouded with cold anger.

It was the first time Shen Chang'an had ever seen his master wear such an expression. He wondered what matter could provoke even the old Taoist to such bitterness.

The Qian family was a prominent clan in the region, their estate vast and easy to find—any passerby could direct them. When the two arrived at the Qian household's grand entrance, they were immediately stopped by two gatekeepers.

"What business do you have here?" one demanded.

Ordinarily, the Qian family was not so imperious, but recent troubles had plagued their household, drawing crowds of onlookers. Left with no choice, they had stationed guards at the gate to deter such curiosity-seekers.

The old Taoist said nothing, so Shen Chang'an stepped forward, raising his chin with an air of haughtiness. "I am Ling Xiao, seventh-generation successor of Greenleaf Temple. This is my master, Daoist Wuyou. We have heard your household is haunted. My master wishes to test my abilities, so I have come to rid you of your ghost."

At these words, not only were the two guards taken aback—even the old Taoist was left speechless.

What on earth, disciple? Such grand airs! The resentment in this place is enough to reach the heavens, and you claim my purpose is to test you? Why not just say I'm trying to get you killed?

The guards' first reaction was that this youth was full of himself, but on second thought, no one without real skill would dare make such bold claims. They hurried to report inside.

"Please, wait here a moment while I inform the master," one said, leaving his companion to watch the gate as he rushed inside.

Taking advantage of the moment, the old Taoist whispered, "You put on quite the act, but what if we can't handle the situation? How will we explain ourselves then?"

"If we can't handle it, then it's over for us—there's nothing left to explain," Shen Chang'an replied.

The old Taoist's face darkened in anger, and he was sorely tempted to smack his insolent disciple.

Shen Chang'an, noticing his master's livid expression, merely smiled gently and said, "Don't worry, Master. I can deal with this."

"You don't sense the demonic aura here. If you used the Jade Talisman of Zhonglong, you'd know just how reckless you're being," the old Taoist muttered.

Shen Chang'an considered this. "Compared to that vengeful ghost we encountered last time, how does this one compare?"

"This one's at least fifty percent stronger!" the old Taoist replied.

"That'll do, then," Shen Chang'an said calmly.

The old Taoist was nearly driven to apoplexy. Fifty percent stronger and you think that's fine? Do you not value your own life at all?

He was about to scold Shen Chang'an when a breathless voice interrupted, "Daoist—Daoists, please, come inside!"

The gatekeeper who had gone to announce them returned, panting, but wasted no time in ushering the old Taoist and Shen Chang'an into the estate.

Though the old Taoist still wanted to rebuke his disciple, now was not the time. To chastise him before the host would only damage his own reputation. So he shot Shen Chang'an a glare and strode in first.

Shen Chang'an followed, and together with their escort, they walked through several corridors before reaching the main hall.

The head of the Qian family had been waiting anxiously. At the sight of the old Taoist, he hurried forward, clutching the Taoist's hand and almost sobbing, "Master, please save us!"

Shen Chang'an smirked to himself at the man's theatrical display, but since this was their benefactor, he had no interest in exposing the act.

He stepped forward, interjecting between the two, and said, "Lord Qian, do not panic. Leave this matter to me."

"Ah, well..." Lord Qian glanced at Shen Chang'an, then at the old Taoist, clearly trusting the latter more.

"Rest assured," Shen Chang'an continued confidently, "Though I will be performing the ritual, my master will oversee everything. Should I make any mistake, with my master's skill, subduing a mere ghost is child's play."

As preposterous as Shen Chang'an's words sounded, the old Taoist could hardly chastise his disciple now, lest he undermine his own authority and risk being dismissed by Lord Qian altogether—something that could complicate matters further.

Reassured that Daoist Wuyou would be present, Lord Qian relaxed somewhat, though he still wished the old Taoist would handle things personally.

"And—when would you like to begin, revered Daoists?" Lord Qian asked.

This time, Shen Chang'an fell silent and looked to his master.

The old Taoist nodded and said, "My young disciple has journeyed with me for several days, weary from the road. I fear he may not be at his best. Let him rest for a night, and tomorrow we shall begin the rite. Prepare a hearty meal for him and arrange suitable lodgings."

"Of course, of course. Someone, prepare a room for the Daoists! Please, this way, sirs. Food will be sent shortly," Lord Qian said, bustling about to ensure their comfort.

They were led to a guest wing, with servants scurrying to attend to their every need.

Once they were alone, the old Taoist slammed his palm on the table. "Have you lost your mind? Taking on such a grave matter alone—are you not afraid to die?"

Shen Chang'an quickly poured his master a cup of tea. "Calm yourself, Master. Have some tea."

"How can I calm down? You're my only disciple—am I to bury my own child?"

In the short month they had spent together, the old Taoist had come to cherish Shen Chang'an deeply, treating him as his own. He had hoped Shen Chang'an would one day see him to his grave—if something happened to him now, where would he find another such student?

Shen Chang'an sighed. "Even if I hadn't taken this on, wouldn't you have done so yourself? You brought me here, circling these towns for more than a month, waiting for this day."

The old Taoist stiffened, then lowered his head in guilt. "This matter has nothing to do with you. You shouldn't be involved."

Shen Chang'an, having long since realized the evil spirit lurked nearby, understood his master's behavior. The old Taoist had kept them circling the two towns, never truly leaving, all the while waiting for this day.

"Tell me, Master—what's really going on here?" Shen Chang'an asked.

The old Taoist sighed, took a jade pendant from his waist, and began, "This all started because of your senior brother..."

Shen Chang'an was not the old Taoist's first disciple. In fact, before him, Daoist Wuyou had already taken on another student.

But this senior disciple was different. Daoist Wuyou was cautious to a fault, using the Jade Talisman of Zhonglong, which most in Greenleaf Temple employed to seek out ghosts and demons, purely as a means of evasion.

His senior disciple, however, was nothing like him. An orphan from the Wuyou family named Zhou Yu, he had lost his parents early and joined the temple for lack of better options.

Zhou Yu was restless by nature, always eager to compete with his fellow disciples. As he grew stronger, he left Greenleaf Temple to make his own way in the world.

Greenleaf Temple was unlike other Taoist orders, whose members focused on self-cultivation and restraint. The priests of Greenleaf Temple were known for their ruthlessness. Even Wuyou, timid as he was, never spared a demon or ghost he had the power to slay.

Zhou Yu, restless and ambitious, grew up in such an environment, and his desire to vanquish evil and bring peace to the land was only natural.

One day, he arrived in the very city where Shen Chang'an and the old Taoist now found themselves. By chance, he met Lord Qian.

In his youth, Lord Qian had been something of a scoundrel, with a deep fascination for Taoist arts. After witnessing Zhou Yu's skills, he was thoroughly won over, and the two quickly became sworn brothers, traveling together and bringing justice to the people.

You had to admit, Zhou Yu was gifted. He couldn't handle the most powerful demons, but lesser spirits were no match for him. In time, the pair gained a reputation, and many young women grew to admire them—among them, a girl named Xu Qiao'er.

"Xu Qiao'er?" Shen Chang'an interrupted. "If I heard correctly, isn't she now the Qian family's matriarch?"

The old Taoist nodded in pain. "Yes, that's the one. And that's what led to everything that followed..."

Zhou Yu was a handsome youth—at least half as attractive as Shen Chang'an, according to the old Taoist. More importantly, he was a true exorcist, and Xu Qiao'er quickly fell for him. Zhou Yu, no naive boy himself, reciprocated her feelings, and soon the two became the envy of the town—a match made in heaven.

But not everyone could accept this outcome.

Lord Qian had secretly harbored feelings for Xu Qiao'er as well. Consumed by jealousy at seeing her with Zhou Yu, he finally committed a terrible crime.

Rumor had it that Lord Qian secretly violated Xu Qiao'er and forced her to marry him. Then, by some means, he acquired a forbidden spell, breaking Zhou Yu's spiritual power and causing his cultivation to backfire, shattering his meridians and reducing him to a cripple.

What followed was more uncertain. According to the old Taoist, Zhou Yu managed to escape and find his master, begging for help. But with his meridians destroyed and his soul fragmented, the old Taoist tried everything he could, only barely saving Zhou Yu's life. The man could do nothing but lie bedridden from then on.

As if that were not enough, news arrived that Xu Qiao'er was to marry Lord Qian—someone even sent an invitation, driving Zhou Yu to madness.

Ordinary anger might lead a man to his death, but Zhou Yu was a cultivator.

His hands had slain not only demons and spirits but also many evil cultivators, from whom he had seized several dark arts. Among them was a spell known as "The Cat Takes the Prince's Place," a most sinister magic.

This spell allowed one to send his own soul into a woman's body. If she became pregnant, the soul would devour the fetus, resulting in a stillborn child. Worse, the spell would slowly drain the woman's life force, nourishing the caster. In time, she would become pregnant again, but this time give birth to a ghost infant.

"So, Master," Shen Chang'an asked, "you foresaw that my senior brother would be reborn today, and came specially to deliver him?"

The old Taoist slapped the table. "Deliver him? I'm here to send that abomination on its way! Using black magic to harm others is an unforgivable crime in Greenleaf Temple. Did you really think I'd let him off?"

Shen Chang'an quickly poured another cup of tea. "Calm yourself, Master. Please, have some tea."

The old Taoist took a sip, suppressing his anger. Shen Chang'an continued, "But isn't it Lord Qian and his wife who brought this disaster upon my senior brother? Why bother saving them?"

At this, the old Taoist's face took on a bitter expression. "I'm not doing it for them—I'm doing it for that pitiful child! If he really becomes a ghost infant, he'll never be human again. Even the soul collectors of the underworld won't take him. He'll be trapped in this world forever, either becoming a scourge or fading into nothingness."

Shen Chang'an sighed, understanding at last why his master had wandered for so long. On one hand, he wished death upon those who had destroyed his disciple; on the other, his heart ached for Zhou Yu, knowing that if he let the guilty perish, his disciple would be doomed for eternity. Whether for the sake of ridding the world of evil or to save his own disciple, the old Taoist had no choice but to come.

Seeing his master's agitation, Shen Chang'an quickly offered comfort, urging him to rest. Then, under cover of night, he left the guest room alone, gripping his goose-feather blade. After orienting himself, he set off toward Lord Qian's quarters.