Corpse Driving Talisman

"Yao Tai Feng..."

Zhou Sheng pondered the name, recognizing it as an artist's stage name. He also noticed that when the storyteller mentioned it, the patrons in the tavern stopped eating.

It seemed that anyone of a certain age remembered this name vividly, unable to forget it.

Even after a full eighteen years had passed.

"Speaking of Master Feng, she was truly remarkable. She debuted at sixteen, and her first performance stunned half of Xunyang City. By twenty, she was Jiangzhou's top performer!"

"She wasn't just skilled as a Qingyi, but also as a Hua Dan, Wu Dan, and Dao Ma Dan, performing each role with supernatural talent. Her martial arts were unparalleled, and every show was a complete success!"

"Back then, half the people in Jiangzhou were her fans..."

The storyteller's voice became a torrent of words as he spoke of the legendary Yao Tai Feng, his eyes filled with a rapturous expression, as if he could still see her radiant figure on stage and hear her transcendent singing.

No one in the tavern interrupted. Most wore expressions of recollection and nostalgia, while those from out of town looked on with great curiosity.

"Master Feng wasn't just skilled in martial arts and singing; every year on the God of the Pear Garden's birthday, she would perform for seven consecutive days at the Gathering Immortals Tower. All the money earned was donated, either to aid orphans or to provide porridge for the beggars. She saved countless lives..."

At this point, the storyteller clasped his hands and sighed, "This old man was once destitute and also received Master Feng's kindness."

A diner chimed in.

"I was young then, I don't remember much, but my mother said that year there was a drought, and we had no harvest. If it weren't for Master Feng's porridge stalls, my mother and I would have died long ago!"

"Yes, yes, it was... the eighteenth year of Zhaode. That drought was truly terrifying. I remember Master Feng sang for nine days straight to raise money from landlords and wealthy gentry, her throat nearly bleeding..."

"Alas, even though it's a lowly profession, when Master Feng is mentioned, who in all of Jiangzhou doesn't give a thumbs-up? Why is it that good people... never seem to get good rewards?"

The storyteller waved his fan and sighed, "Isn't that the truth? The great fire eighteen years ago burned the entire Gathering Immortals Tower to the ground. Not a single actor or audience member escaped!"

"It was a tragedy. Out of a thousand or so people, they couldn't even find a few complete bodies. The place was abandoned afterward, said to be filled with resentment. The officials found eminent monks to perform rituals, and they even built a pagoda to suppress evil. It was no use; no one dared to buy it!"

"A while ago, Zhou Laosan from the coffin shop, who was always obsessed with opera, supposedly stumbled into the Gathering Immortals Tower after getting drunk. He claimed he heard Master Feng singing again, and ever since, he's been acting completely insane, as if possessed..."

After hearing the storyteller's words and the surrounding diners' discussions, Zhou Sheng's heart stirred.

If that was the case, the Consort Yu that Zhou Laosan sang should have been a modified piece by Master Feng, who died in the fire eighteen years ago.

And the reason Zhou Laosan had such heavy Yin energy wasn't because he slept in a mass grave, but because he went to the Gathering Immortals Tower.

A theater that had seen countless deaths in a fire eighteen years ago; if he truly went to listen to a performance, he would have been the only living person on stage and in the audience.

How could his Yin energy not be heavy?

Zhou Sheng even thought it was a testament to his strong destiny and good fortune that he managed to walk out alive.

Even if it were him, he wouldn't be able to handle hundreds or thousands of fierce ghosts. The thought of a horde of ghosts swarming towards him made Zhou Sheng's scalp tingle.

Wait...

His heart leaped, and he stiffly looked at his Master, asking in a low voice, "Master, the stage you want me to perform on... isn't it the Gathering Immortals Tower?"

Yu Zhensheng put down his chopsticks, unhurriedly took out a handkerchief to wipe his mouth, and smiled without answering.

"Master, this isn't funny at all..."

Zhou Sheng returned a stiff smile, thinking, You really are my biological Master.

"To perform on stage, you need a stage name. Sometimes a stage name is even more important than your real name. Think about it yourself, and tell me your name before you go on tonight, otherwise... I'll choose one for you myself."

He paused, then said with a half-smile, "I think 'Little Peach Blossom' or 'Zhou Fengjiao' would be quite good."

Zhou Sheng gasped.

Suddenly, the fear of performing on stage didn't seem so bad. If he, a man of seven feet, were to take such a stage name, he'd die of embarrassment before any fierce ghosts even laid a hand on him.

Wait... did he miss something?

"Master, did you just say... perform tonight?"

Yu Zhensheng glanced at him indifferently, then called the waiter, bought some candied fruits, carefully wrapped them in oiled paper, and tucked them into his robe.

He stood up to leave, his voice drifting back, "Why wait for a good day? Better to strike while the iron is hot. Better to die early than late."

"Don't worry, it won't be that painful... after all, it's not me going on stage."

Zhou Sheng: "..."

After dinner, as the sky darkened, his Master led him to a house in the southern part of the city and skillfully opened the door with a key.

It seemed no one had lived there for a long time; weeds grew everywhere, and dust covered everything.

The courtyard was spacious. Zhou Sheng saw plum blossom stakes and a dilapidated weapons rack, but they were all covered in mold and rotten.

In an instant, an image flashed in his mind.

It was an image of himself practicing his martial arts skills on the plum blossom stakes, wielding wooden swords, spears, and sabers.

He had used all these training tools before.

It seemed his Master had taught his senior sister here in this courtyard.

"You can stay here for now. We'll tidy it up another day. Go fetch water and take a bath. Remember, only cold water, and the colder the better."

Yu Zhensheng instructed.

Zhou Sheng didn't ask any further questions. He immediately went out and returned with well water. The water from the deep well was icy and cold; even as he washed, he felt a chill.

Next, Master picked up the Cinnabar Brush, dipped it in cinnabar mud, and drew a talisman on the skin of his back.

As soon as the tail of the talisman was complete, Zhou Sheng shivered violently. He felt as if a chill had sealed all the pores on his body. The three points of Yang Fire on his shoulders instantly extinguished, and the Yang energy within him slowly dissipated.

If anyone were to touch his body now, they would feel an icy coldness, a bone-chilling sensation, as if he had just emerged from an ice cellar.

"This is a Corpse Driving Talisman from the Corpse Driver lineage. Corpse Drivers usually hollow out the body, fill it with preserving medicine, and then draw this talisman to suppress the corpse from changing."

Zhou Sheng asked with some confusion, "Master, since this is a talisman drawn on a corpse, why did you draw it on my back?"

"To save your life."

Yu Zhensheng looked at him deeply and said, "When this Corpse Driving Talisman is drawn on a living person, it can seal acupoints and suppress Yang energy. This way, when you go on stage to perform, you won't be discovered as a living person."

He paused, then solemnly warned him again, "Remember, once you're on stage, absolutely do not be discovered... that you are alive."

"Otherwise, you might become... one of them."

Thanks to Asian Black Donkey for the 100-coin reward, sending love!