Volume One: The Outcast's Journey—Blazing Demon-Slaying Chapter Five: Inviting the Divine—The Calming Incantation

Chen Xin and Sister Nian both knew that Chen San had become like this only because he had carried the coffin for the old man. All the more, they stayed by his side, caring for him without leaving his bedside, tending to the motionless Chen San who lay there. Not once did they neglect the handkerchief at his mouth, and for a full day and night, neither closed their eyes. Counting the days spent keeping vigil over the old man’s spirit, the mother and daughter had not truly slept for four days and nights. They felt no sleepiness, only an anxious waiting and the hope that Heaven might pity Chen San and let him wake soon.

Little did they know, on the very night Master Wang climbed the mountain, the thing he most feared still came to pass—and more severely than he had imagined. Chen San had little time left; once the life-soul departed the body, the time it could linger was but the length of a single incense stick. Even with the old man’s costly ritual, he could be kept alive no more than thirty-some hours. When that time was up, the remaining souls would scatter, the seals and spells would be useless, and all that would be left was to await the soul-catcher. Once the souls dispersed, the body would soon begin to decay.

It had already been more than twenty hours since Chen San’s soul had left his body. To summon a soul, one needed only the birth date and name; the ritual could draw the soul from a thousand miles away. But to unite the soul and body, the soul must be brought close, and the Maoshan Soul-Merging Spell must be cast with rooster’s blood as the talisman. The sigil was drawn upon the recipient’s body, then activated with the Maoshan incantation to call the soul home. Though it sounded simple, the true challenge lay in the incantations, sigils, and the celestial steps required for the ritual. Without decades of Daoist cultivation, even if one knew them by heart, success was not guaranteed.

Master Wang had spent nearly twenty hours searching the mountain forests, an Eight Trigrams compass in his left hand and his right fingers busily calculating, constantly adjusting his path. Within a few hours he’d found the first hidden place where a master might live—the Dragon’s Eye, specifically the Hidden Dragon Spot, located to the west of the forests, seventy or eighty miles away. For a geomancer such as himself, the Hidden Dragon Spot was easy enough to find, but the master who might reside there was another matter altogether.

He had expected as much. Any recluse would certainly use the arts of yin and yang, perhaps even arrays and barriers, to keep outsiders at bay. Lacking any better option, he could only resort to the most primitive method: calling out. Since he couldn’t break the spells, he would shout, circling each of the four Dragon’s Eye and Tiger’s Pupil spots in a five-mile radius, calling for half an hour at each. What did he shout? He’d already composed a long spiel on the way there: his name, his purpose, why he’d come, and what he sought—enough to sound like a charlatan, calling out again and again as he searched.

Of course, there was no response. Wild animals, yes, and plenty of them, but he was agile enough to fight when he could, run when he couldn’t, or climb a tree if neither was possible. Thus, each encounter was resolved. Failing to find any master at the Hidden Dragon Spot, Master Wang’s confidence faltered, but having come so far, he steeled himself and pressed on to the second location.

Under the old man’s extraordinary tutelage, Chen San had made great progress. In his soul form in the Wind and Nether Valley, he had crossed into realms that ordinary Daoists could only dream of, using the advantage of being a soul to begin exploring the level of the Divine Soul. Once this was achieved, he would no longer be comparable to ordinary Daoists or sorcerers.

The old man led Chen San from the bamboo hut, following a winding stream into the woods, where the environment was far less tranquil than inside the hut. Chen San, puzzled, scratched his head. “Old man, wasn’t there a sheer cliff just outside the bamboo door? Why is it gone?”

The old man clasped his hands behind his back and replied leisurely, “This is just a basic yin-yang Daoist art—‘Five Ghosts Move the Mountain.’ If you want to inherit the five weaknesses and three lacks, I’d be happy to teach you. What do you say? Want to learn a few tricks?”

Chen San shook his head rapidly. “No, no, I’m just a young fellow who still wants to marry and have children. I want nothing to do with those weaknesses and lacks.”

The old man laughed heartily. Before long, they reached a relatively open area, still surrounded by many large trees. The old man stopped, gazing at the spot before them.

“The final spirit-inviting technique must be practiced here. Years ago, I set an array in this place to gather the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. The creatures here are highly spiritual. Sit cross-legged and enter the Divine Soul realm first, and see how it feels.”

He spoke as if it were all real, but when Chen San looked around, all he saw were trees and weeds—not even a bird in sight. He frowned, thinking the old man must have bad eyesight. Yet he dared not object, so he sat down cross-legged, silently reciting the Soul-Calming Mantra, preparing to enter the Divine Soul state. The old man withdrew to one side, leaping up to a tree branch to meditate. That leap left Chen San dumbfounded.

This time, entering the Divine Soul state was not as easy as before. Unlike the gourd, there were constant distractions; the forest seemed to hide nothing but trees and weeds, but in truth, all manner of spirit beasts were concealed, their senses keen and acute. If one calmed the mind, the cacophony of sounds would quickly become apparent. Maintaining inner peace was a challenge, let alone anything else. Eyes closed, brow furrowed, Chen San made little progress.

He heard the old man intone slowly, “Calm the heart and let energy rise to the crown; in all change, remain still, let the spirit be at ease. Falling petals and drifting leaves, pure and silent; the mind like still water, the spirit clear.”

As the old man chanted the Tranquil Mind Mantra, the clarity within Chen San’s soul sea expanded like rain after a long drought. The more it expanded, the more he felt that familiar yet alien sensation—he once again entered the Divine Soul realm.

Following the old man’s instructions, Chen San gradually widened his soul’s perception, sensing the spirit-beasts. Compared to human spirits, beast spirits were easier to detect; even at the Great Mastery level, one could sense them, and with the old man’s guidance, there was a purpose behind using the Divine Soul. The final stage was to allow Chen San to skillfully perceive the old man’s spirit and, with the spell and sigil, invite his spirit to possess him.

Sensing the beast spirits amid the noise was the first step. This environment was much like what Chen San would face after merging souls, only more chaotic and difficult. Success here would make it easier after the soul merge. With the old man’s mantra repeating, Chen San grew more proficient, his soul’s range expanding, sensing ever more beast spirits.

Beast spirits appeared as shapes overlaying the heart; in his soul-sea, each spirit flared like a star. As his soul’s clarity expanded, his perception grew until, with the help of the Tranquil Mind Mantra, it soon enveloped the entire forest.

Later, Chen San would learn that the Tranquil Mind Mantra was no ordinary spell but one of the Eight Great Daoist Mantras, which the old man had gleaned from a remnant of an ancestor’s divine will during a spirit-inviting ritual. Such mantras were not common—they depended entirely on the practitioner’s soul foundation. With a weak soul, it was merely calming, but with a powerful soul, the mantra could wound the very source, causing death and the dissolution of the Dao.

Thus, though revered, few had truly wielded this mantra. In an age of demons and chaos, a Daoist ancestor had used it, together with the Purify Heaven and Earth Mantra, at the cost of his life and cultivation, to seal two apocalyptic beings. Where the mantra passed, evil was obliterated, and though those two were only shattered, not destroyed, the ancestor’s soul was so wounded that, severed from his body, he used his last strength to cast the Four Symbols Divine Seal, binding the two within the place where he fell, leaving behind only a wisp of his will.

The old man’s Tranquil Mind Mantra was derived from that wisp, and thus he also learned of those two beings.

As Chen San’s perception grew, the beast spirits became clearer and more numerous. Though the array the old man had laid only covered a small part of the forest, the spiritual beasts had long since spread throughout. Just as Chen San’s soul carefully sensed his surroundings, a sudden shock hit him—a thunderous bell sounded, ringing through his being.

Following the toll, Chen San’s spirit reached out. Another toll, and above him he sensed an old man glowing with golden light, seated cross-legged. Each toll sent waves through the air.

Delighted, Chen San thought, “That must be the old man’s spirit. I can sense it now.”

Moved, he withdrew from the Divine Soul realm and cried out excitedly, “Old man, I sensed your spirit! Was that the tolling sound?”

The old man smiled slightly, eyes still closed. “Not bad, not bad. I underestimated you. I thought it would take longer. Since you’ve sensed me, there’s no need to teach you again. Now I’ll teach you the incantation and hand seals of the spirit-inviting technique.”

“I’m pretty smart, aren’t I? Praise me!” Chen San beamed.

“Yes, yes, you’re clever,” the old man replied half-heartedly.

“As long as your spirit is connected with mine, I’ll know your situation in an instant. If it’s truly urgent, my spirit will follow yours back to your body. But don’t summon me for everything—I won’t come unless it’s a matter of life and death.”

Chen San pouted. “If it’s that hard, I won’t use it unless it’s life or death.”

The old man chuckled. “It’s not hard; it’s just difficult at first. Once you’re used to it, it’s a few simple moves. Now, here’s the incantation. Remember it well.”

“Step lightly, invite the Spirit Lord; across ten thousand miles, the soul goes first. Chou, Shen, Zi, Hai, You, Mao, Wei—these correspond to the hand positions. Finally, stomp the ground. Give it a try.”

Chen San looked at the old man in disbelief. Was that all? He pondered—the first two lines sounded like a formula, but what were those words at the end? Frowning, he asked, “I don’t get it. What do those last words mean?”

The old man shot him an annoyed look. “Those are just the hand signs. Watch me. Remember them.”

He formed the hand seals quickly, so quickly that Chen San was left bewildered. Seeing his confusion, the old man’s mouth twitched. He raised his trembling hand slowly before Chen San’s forehead, only for Chen San to hurriedly push it away.

“Not so fast—I’ve never learned this before. You have to teach me step by step,” Chen San pleaded, nodding as if it were perfectly reasonable.

The old man rolled his eyes, took a breath, and said, “I’ve never met a young fool as self-righteous as you. But all right, you can do it.”

He then patiently taught each hand sign, and after more than half an hour, Chen San was finally somewhat proficient with the incantation and seals. Compared to the old man, though, it was like the difference between climbing up a mountain and rolling down—no comparison at all. Still, he could now perform the spirit-inviting technique.

“Time is short—only three hours left. Let’s see how well you’ve learned.”

Chen San now dreaded this tone from the old man; whenever he spoke so calmly, nothing good followed. The near-trauma of the Wind and Nether Valley, nearly wetting himself in the gourd—it all flashed through his mind. Suddenly, he realized the old man had vanished. His heart skipped a beat; he looked around, calling for the old man, but received no answer. A sense of foreboding grew.

Sure enough, not long after, the sky clouded over, winds howled, and darkness fell. Chen San hurried from the open ground into the forest, cursing under his breath, “Is the old man going to strike me with lightning?”

A thunderclap burst—BOOM!—striking nearby. Terrified, Chen San scrambled on all fours, but when no second bolt came, he stood, clinging to a tree. He had barely recovered when rustling came from the woods nearby.

He stared, stunned, as a white tiger appeared, followed by a breathtakingly beautiful woman with flowing hair. Both quickened their pace toward him. Chen San’s legs trembled as he turned to run, screaming, too scared even to curse the old man, fleeing into the depths of the forest.

As he ran, he realized this was likely a test—the old man wanted him to use the spirit-inviting technique to deal with these beings. He kept running, murmuring the King of Brightness Soul-Calming Mantra to steady his soul, which had nearly scattered from fright. For a living person, his face would have gone deathly pale.

A shaky soul could not perform the ritual. He quickly recited the Tranquil Mind Mantra, hoping to enter the Divine Soul state. Running while merging one’s soul was as hard as climbing to the sky. He repeated the mantras several times; his soul calmed, but he hadn't yet entered the Divine Soul state.

He realized he needed time—a few moments to recite the spell, form the seals, and merge the soul. At best, it would take as long as it takes to relieve oneself twice. How could he possibly spare that time now?

Frowning, he kept running, glancing back. To his horror, the white tiger chasing him was as tall as he was—not an ordinary tiger. This was a spirit beast, the forest’s ruler, imbued with the power of sun, moon, and stars and the essence of heaven and earth. It radiated spiritual might, and Chen San shone like a beacon in its eyes. Behind it floated the beautiful woman, expressionless.

Suddenly, an idea struck Chen San. He leapt up a tree, climbing quickly to the top. The tiger circled below, clawing the trunk, while the woman stood silently by.

Delighted, Chen San recited the Tranquil Mind Mantra and merged his soul. A resonant bell echoed in his soul-sea—the old man’s spirit! He began the spell:

“Step lightly, invite the Spirit Lord; across ten thousand miles, the soul goes first. Chou, Shen, Zi, Hai, You, Mao, Wei.” He formed the hand seals slowly, completing the ritual.

All that remained was to stomp the ground. Chen San leapt down, landing hard and stomping—but nothing happened.

The tiger, seeing him descend, gave chase. Panicking, Chen San ran again, climbing another tree and hugging the trunk, shouting, “You rotten old man! What kind of useless spirit-inviting technique is this? Are you making me your guinea pig?”

Clinging to the tree, Chen San hurled curses into the distance.