Chapter 10: Exorcising a Hundred Ghosts (1)

This time, Old Man Jiang’s bathing took a full two hours. Not only did he carefully wash and scrub himself, he even shaved his beard and tidied his hair. He soaked in the bath for another hour.

When he finally finished, he actually changed into a Daoist robe. His entire temperament had become completely different. There was no trace left of the lecherous old man he usually seemed to be. Anyone seeing him now for the first time would think he was a middle aged Daoist priest, someone who naturally inspired trust, the kind of person who seemed to carry deep insight within.

“Move the table into the courtyard. I’m going to light incense and perform the ritual,” Old Man Jiang said loudly while standing in the yard.

My parents did not dare delay. They hurriedly carried the square table from the main hall outside. In their rush, their steps were uncoordinated and they nearly tripped over each other, showing just how anxious they were.

Once the table was set down, Old Man Jiang took out the cloth bundle he had brought. From it he pulled out a yellow cloth. With a shake of his shoulders, he spread it neatly across the table. My father could not help but exclaim, “What skill!”

Old Man Jiang paid no attention. He simply turned to my father and said, “When I am performing the ritual later, do not shout or make noise. Ritual work requires a unified mind. If you disturb me, I will lose focus, and then you can come and do this ritual yourself.”

My father had no idea how such rituals worked. Hearing this half joking threat, he quickly shut his mouth.

After instructing my mother to bring out the items she had prepared yesterday, Old Man Jiang took out a small exquisite furnace, a stack of gold ritual paper, and some high quality incense, arranging them in a specific order.

He then took out paper cut figures, such as soldiers and horses used in ritual deployments, and placed them according to set positions.

At this point, my mother brought over a tray with steamed buns, each marked with a red dot at the center, a plate of fruit that was only green tangerines, and a cup of tea.

Old Man Jiang placed everything in order. Finally, he accepted a bowl of clean water handed over by my father. Just like that, a simple ritual altar was completed.

In truth, my Master was not someone who liked elaborate ritual setups. He often simplified things as much as possible. This was one of the differences between private inheritance and major orthodox sects, where details were often more casual.

As for the paper soldiers and horses, he had refined them before, but they were not his main specialty, so he rarely used them.

The main purpose of setting up a ritual altar for my Master was as a form of respect toward the founder of the Daoist way. Before any ritual, sincere worship was necessary. In addition, before forming hand seals, one must submit a formal petition.

After the altar was set up, my Master took out nine incense sticks. After lighting them, he respectfully bowed three times and inserted them into the incense burner.

He then slowly paced around the courtyard, eventually selecting a spot. He dug a small pit there.

After digging it, my Master took out a handful of black and white stones from his cloth bag. These stones did not look special at first glance, but upon closer inspection, they were extremely smooth, polished by long years of handling.

Holding the stones, my Master walked around the entire courtyard. Occasionally he would stop and drop a stone. He went through the rooms and courtyard alike. Finally, he stopped at the entrance gate and placed several stones there in succession.

After finishing, my Master returned to the small pit he had dug earlier. He took out a copper coin, hesitated for a moment, then put it back. He then took out a roughly carved piece of jade and thought for a moment.

Finally, my Master sighed and placed the jade into the pit.

My mother watched this mysterious scene and could not help whispering to my father, “What exactly is Master Jiang doing?”

My father had once seen an old Daoist performing something similar in his childhood, so he also whispered back, “When I was young, I heard village elders say this is setting up a formation.”

He was not entirely sure either. After all, who knew if that old Daoist had real ability. But this time, he actually guessed correctly. My Master was indeed setting up a formation, specifically a soul-locking formation.

Copper coins and jade were both ritual instruments my Master had carefully nurtured. He chose jade as the formation core because it was gentler. Copper coins, on the other hand, were highly effective against spirits precisely because they passed through so many hands over time, accumulating intense yang energy.

Daoists generally advise spirits, expel spirits, or suppress spirits, but they rarely destroy them outright. After all, soul scattering is the most miserable fate between heaven and earth. To force a soul into complete destruction through cruel means creates the greatest karmic burden.

Heaven favors life. My Master did not want to act against natural harmony at the formation core. The purpose of this formation was only to lock the wandering ghosts in this courtyard so they could not escape.

After setting the formation core, Old Man Jiang closed his eyes to rest his spirit. His presence became slightly blurred, as if his aura had been withdrawn. This was the state of calming the mind and collecting one’s energy.

After a short while, he suddenly opened his eyes. The moment he did, his entire presence erupted. In a blur of motion too fast for my parents to follow, he formed a hand seal with both hands.

To my parents, the hand seal was incomprehensible. They could not even distinguish which finger was which, as everything intertwined into a strange symbolic pattern.

At the moment the seal was completed, my parents saw his lips moving rapidly in irregular bursts of speech. At the same time, his gaze became extremely focused, clearly fully immersed in what he was doing.

Finally, Old Man Jiang shouted, “Form the array.”

In that instant, my parents felt as if something had settled into the formation core where he stood. The feeling was unreal, as if the entire house had become a self contained world filled with profound mystery.

To anchor a formation, a formation commander must be invited to preside over it. This is the most critical step. It requires Daoist techniques, chanting, hand seals, and focused intent all at the same time. Whether it succeeds depends entirely on the practitioner’s skill.

Chanting refers to Daoist mantras, divided into blessings and curses. Blessings reinforce oneself, while curses are used during ritual execution. These formulas are not written down in texts, but passed orally, shaped by each teacher’s understanding, making them highly mysterious.

Hand seals refer to the complex gestures my Master had just performed. For ordinary people, even if they broke their fingers, they might not be able to form them correctly. Even if they managed, they would only achieve the shape, not the spiritual essence behind it.

Focused intent means concentrating one’s mental energy entirely on the intended object. At the moment of summoning the formation commander, all mental focus must be directed toward that entity. This is, in essence, the use of willpower.

Unintentionally, my Master was revealing true Daoist mastery before my parents, secret techniques from the metaphysical arts of the Mountain lineage.

After the formation was established, my Master withdrew his power. He showed no sign of exhaustion. His eyes were bright and calm, as if the soul-locking formation was nothing more than a trivial matter.

After taking a sip of tea from my mother, he walked to the ritual altar and took out a brush, cinnabar, and a stack of yellow talisman paper, but still did not begin drawing.

At that moment, I in the room suddenly started crying again. Old Man Jiang let out a soft sound of surprise. He turned toward the direction of my crying, formed a hand seal, lightly touched his brow, and slowly closed his eyes. It took a long time before he opened them again.

This time, his expression showed a trace of fatigue. He said calmly, “There is still such a vicious entity. I did not open my heavenly eye yesterday, so I failed to notice it. Now that I have formed the array, it is trying to counterattack wildly.”

My parents, standing nearby, heard his normal speaking voice and had just begun to relax, but their nerves tightened again.

However, Old Man Jiang remained unhurried. He walked back to the altar and put the stack of yellow talisman paper back into his bag. Instead, he took out several sheets of blue talisman paper, and his expression became much more serious.

After his brief fatigue faded, he asked my mother for a small dish and carefully mixed the cinnabar.

Once the cinnabar was ready, he placed his hands behind his back and closed his eyes again, chanting softly.

This time, it was only a calming and centering mantra, nothing extraordinary. But before drawing talismans, one must achieve complete mental stillness. The mind must be like still water, and the work must flow in a single uninterrupted motion. One must reach the most tranquil state possible.

After everything was prepared, my Master picked up the cinnabar soaked brush. He took a deep breath and struck down decisively. He held that breath the entire time, only slowly releasing it after the talisman was completed.

When drawing talismans, practitioners avoid distraction by maintaining a single held breath. The idea is to complete everything in one continuous flow. During this process, spiritual intent is transmitted through the brush into the talisman paper. At the final stroke, a special sealing or releasing mantra is used to grant the talisman its vitality, effectively activating it.