Chapter Fourteen: Transcendence

Tong Song Forest—Fang You knew exactly where this place was. It wasn’t far from Qingshui Street; even by taxi, it would take only about three hours.

After settling Lin Xue, Fang You hurried out to hail a cab and made his way to Tong Song Forest.

Dawn was breaking. No matter how powerful a grudge the evil spirit might harbor, as the cock crowed and daylight rose, the spirit could only retreat.

After about three hours, Fang You arrived at Tong Song Forest, carrying in his hand an oil-paper umbrella—one of his usual belongings.

Souls could only walk at night; when yin energy was dominant, ghosts could roam the world. But now, with the morning light growing stronger, to move with a ghost, one must shield it from the assault of yang energy and stay in places where yin was most potent.

The oil-paper umbrella was the perfect tool for this. Its frame was made entirely of locust wood, which was yin in nature—it blocked out yang and concealed yin. Even on the hottest days, standing beneath a locust tree would send a chill down your spine. This was because the wood repelled yang, harbored yin, and sometimes even drew in misfortune, making one’s back prickle with dread.

But to the matter at hand—Fang You’s oil-paper umbrella’s frame was entirely constructed from locust wood, covered in oil-paper that shielded sunlight and absorbed heat. It was, in every way, a fine instrument for hiding yin.

Fang You opened the umbrella, and a wisp of white soul drifted forth, manifesting as a faint figure before him.

“That man’s grave is over there. Thank you, Taoist, for coming to my aid!”

The figure was Lin Qiu. Her soul, tormented and fading, was barely holding together. If the male ghost captured her again, she would be utterly destroyed.

“I understand. Leave now and hide yourself—you may witness a fierce battle soon,” Fang You instructed.

His warning was not without reason. He was about to negotiate with the male ghost; if things went awry, a fight could break out. Though the daylight protected him somewhat, there was no guarantee the ghost wouldn’t resort to desperate measures.

“I understand. Thank you, Master Taoist.” Lin Qiu bowed respectfully, then slipped into the hollow of a nearby tree.

Following Lin Qiu’s directions, Fang You moved forward.

There, among the graves, one stood strikingly apart—a gravestone grander than the rest. Clearly, this was the resting place of a prominent family.

Fang You stepped forward, drew three sticks of incense from his pocket, and a talisman. With a flick, he lit the talisman, using it to ignite the incense.

“I have come today to reclaim the soul of the girl Lin Xue, whom you took. I know you snatched a piece of her soul before you left. Return it to her, and promise not to harass her again before her friend Lin Qiu is reborn, and this matter will be settled. Otherwise, you should know the methods of Maoshan.”

“These three sticks of incense are my offering. Consider the soul contract they owe you repaid. The two girls were ignorant and signed the contract in confusion. I apologize on their behalf—let this matter end here.”

Fang You placed the incense before the grave and recited a mantra to release the souls.

Yet, in a moment, the incense burned into two short sticks and one long—an ominous sign. People fear three long, two short; incense fears two short, one long.

At the sight, Fang You knew the one buried here refused his offering, unwilling to release Lin Xue’s soul. If left unchecked, the owner might even drag Lin Qiu back for further torment.

He was not surprised. With daylight on his side, if the grave’s owner turned violent, Fang You could handle it. Besides, he’d come prepared.

He took out seven slender nails from his pocket, each of a different length, emitting a faint, black miasma.

“Though you’ve not been buried long, you must recognize these.”

These were grave nails. In the past, gravestones were simple wooden boards, for the poor could not afford stone. They would carve the deceased’s name onto a plank, stake it into the ground, and fix it with seven nails—thus, a makeshift tombstone.

But these seven nails had been soaked in black dog’s blood—an essence of pure yang, even more potent than blood from the tip of the tongue. A bowl of black dog’s blood could send any evil spirit reeling.

Fang You threaded seven black talismans through the seven nails, each soaked in the blood.

Then he declared, harshly, “These nails, once used to anchor gravestones, are now drenched in black dog’s blood and affixed with exorcism talismans. If I drive them into your grave’s four corners, your soul will be bound here forever, never to reincarnate, until it withers to nothing. Day and night you’ll suffer the burning of yang fire—no less agony than hell itself!”

As he spoke, he mimed hammering the nails into place. “It is said heaven cherishes all life. I had no wish to seal your soul, but if you oppose me and spurn my plea, for the living’s sake, I must nail you here and deny you rebirth for all eternity!”

The moment he drove in the first nail, a fierce wind rose, nearly closing his eyes.

In the next instant, the soul of a man—not yet thirty—knelt before Fang You, terrified and sincere.

“Forgive me—I did not recognize your greatness. Please, spare me! I have, at most, twenty years of ghostly life before I can be reborn. If you seal me here, I’ll never have that chance.”

“Just as the living have lifespans, so do ghosts. You have already taken one life—but since they owed you the soul contract of their own accord, I will let that be. However, you tore away a piece of Lin Xue’s soul, leaving her at risk of madness or death. That, I cannot ignore.”

“I understand. As for the soul contract, I will nullify it. Let it be as though they never bound themselves to me. But it wasn’t wholly my fault—they offered their images as virgins to me willingly, so I believed they wished to serve me. When they delayed, I took their souls myself. Yet, since you have spoken, I will let the matter rest. Please, show mercy—do not nail me in this desolate place!”