An Invitation in the Sound of the Qin.
Elder Tao's expression first tightened, then eased. He solemnly straightened his robes and, while still outside the wooden door, lowered his eyes and cupped his hands. He advanced step by step, and by the time he furrowed his brows, he was already utterly serious. It was hard to blame him for being so cautious; he had just been shaken to the core.
The old Earth God was different from Qi WuHuo.
He had lived a long time and knew more about cultivation, with a far more detailed understanding of it.
The Orthodox Mystic Gate had passed down to the present day, and its many spells and divine abilities had become a complete system.
The orthodox arts were the Five Arts.
Mountains, medicine, physiognomy, destiny, and divination.
These five categories were the paths of cultivation.
As for divine abilities used to protect the Dao, they fell broadly into two types. The first could be performed at a moment's notice: breathing out to summon thunder, using one's own Primordial Prenatal Qi as the core, and turning inner visualization and breathwork into an outer-world divine ability. They were swift and could be performed with the lift of a hand or the movement of a foot.
The other kind required incantations, steps, and even auxiliary tools.
These belonged to the category of mystic altars.
Most mystic-altar divine abilities borrowed the power of divine spirits, immortals, or ancestral masters.
At the highest level, they could draw upon the boundless power of Heaven and Earth.
All such divine abilities required preparation in advance. Every detail had strict requirements, and they were quite exacting. But once performed, their might was formidable.
As long as one had enough time to prepare beforehand, a successful ritual could often unleash a divine ability that surpassed one's own level of cultivation.
Depending on the founding masters of their respective lineages and their relationships with immortals and earth deities,
different lineages each had different inheritances.
Those who were not disciples of a given lineage, who had no name inscribed in its Jade Book or had not received a register, had no way to summon its power or perform its spells, even if they learned how to use its divine abilities. They might even suffer a backlash from the divine ability.
If someone killed a disciple of the Divine Firmament lineage, seized the altar's Jade Book, then sent a talisman bearing the Jade Book's authority to the Daoist Thunder Prefecture, requesting to perform the Five Thunder Spell at a certain place on a certain date—
that Five Thunder Spell would most likely strike the caster directly on the head.
Later, as the Daoist lineages passed down their traditions, their mystic-altar rites spread beyond them. Some other cultivation traditions imitated the Daoist mystic altars and developed similar divine abilities of their own.
But whether they belonged to the orthodox Mystic Gate, the unorthodox Left Path, or even folk traditions,
the basic framework of mystic-altar divine abilities was much the same.
The formalities of setting up the altar and performing the ritual aside,
next came talismans, Taoist rituals, and the Yu Steps.
After that came invocations and spells. Spells covered countless things, but their basic logic was this: first, state the direction of the power one wished to borrow.
That way, one would not call upon the wrong immortal.
Then report the circumstances one had encountered.
The third line stated the result one hoped to achieve.
Only then came the actual content of the spell.
Take the folk tradition's Wine Burning Incantation, for example.
The first line made clear: "I obey the Fox Predecessor Master's command to descend the mountain and accompany Dai Jin Suo."
The second line then said, "Today I have found a living person roasting wine to drink."
Only at the end came the incantation's purpose: "Seal the wine away inside the Golden Gate."
It was a little trick used by the wandering spellcasters who roamed the world, playing at being ordinary people and stealing roasted wine to drink. Yet it borrowed the orthodox framework of the mystic-altar tradition and built an inheritance of its own. Its advantage was that even cultivators who had not cultivated Primordial Prenatal Qi could use their own vital energy and prepare in advance to perform all sorts of spells, which made it easier to pass the tradition on.
It was also all-encompassing. Even a swordsman who also cultivated mystic-altar arts could deal with most situations encountered while wandering the world.
From delivering solitary ghosts to the afterlife and driving away evil spirits, to settling down to cook wine or hiding oneself and vanishing without a trace, there were methods for everything.
Its drawback was that it took too much time. One wrong step, one mistaken connection to an immortal or earth deity, and there would be no response.
But no matter the lineage, its spells were always extremely respectful toward the one they addressed.
They either entreated or venerated!
But what he had just heard was a command—
Elder Tao lowered his eyes, not daring to look up at all.
He advanced step by step.
He felt as though his feet had grown heavy.
A command and a request were as different as Heaven and Earth.
What was even more terrifying was that he had not seen a mystic altar or a ritual just now. There had been no incense and no rites.
There had been nothing at all!
This meant that simply by speaking, he had already reached up to the heavens and down into the netherworld, issuing a single command to deliver solitary ghosts to the afterlife.
The more one knew about cultivation, the more terrifying it seemed.
Based on all the knowledge Elder Tao had accumulated over his years of cultivation, there were only two possible explanations. Either the one who had acted had already transcended the ordinary and was no mortal—
or he was a supreme inheritor of the Daoist mystic sect.
A successor of the Supreme One lineage.
No one could invoke the Supreme One's name to command the netherworld and the underworld otherwise.
Either way, as a Fortunate Earth Deity, he had to show the utmost respect. When he reached them, Elder Tao said politely, "Tao Kan, Orthodox Land God of this city, pays his respects to the Daoist master. Your honored presence brings glory to my humble home. I failed to welcome you from afar. Please forgive me, please forgive me."
As he spoke, he raised his head. Only then did he see the appearance of the person playing the qin, and his expression froze in an instant.
"So it's Elder Tao."
The blue-robed youth whom the Fierce Tiger Mountain God had introduced earlier sat on a stone stool, one hand resting on the qin. He said apologetically:
"I only sensed a familiar presence, but couldn't tell who it was, so I could only say you were a friend."
"What brings you here?"
The kind expression on Tao Kan's face froze.
Qi... Qi WuHuo?
It took his Primordial Spirit a long while to regain the ability to think.
Two hundred years of experience kept him from losing his composure in that instant.
"You, this, this is..."
"And what happened just now..."
Qi WuHuo cupped his hands and replied, "My Primordial Spirit was too badly depleted just now, and I couldn't get up to open the door and welcome you. I hope you won't hold it against me."
Elder Tao slowly shook his head. "No, I don't blame you... I don't blame you..."
"How could I possibly blame you?"
His mind gradually recovered its ability to judge. He raised his head and saw that the yin energy had yet to disperse, while faint golden light still lingered in the air, circling around the youth. Elder Tao slowly accepted that the youth really had been the one to do all this. Recalling how the Fierce Tiger Mountain God, whose origins were unfathomable and whose methods ran deep, had treated the youth with such importance, he couldn't help but begin to suspect something.
I see. I see...
Mountain God, you kept me in the dark!
Elder Tao sat down and exchanged a few pleasantries with Qi WuHuo before saying, "Just now..."
"WuHuo, what sort of spell did you use to deliver all those people to the afterlife?"
Qi WuHuo had been about to say that it wasn't his doing.
But then he remembered that the old man had hidden himself and clearly didn't wish to appear, so he fell silent for a moment and said:
"I may not share this matter with others. Please forgive me, Elder Tao..."
He couldn't share it.
Just as he thought...
The Earth God's heart stirred. He stroked his beard, nodded, and said solemnly:
"That's all right, that's all right. WuHuo, you needn't say more."
"I understand."
"I understand."
He no longer spoke as casually as he had when chatting with the other Earth Gods earlier, when he had called Qi WuHuo a little lad.
Nor did he keep his thoughts hidden.
He looked again at the sword case standing off to one side. At a glance, he could tell it was the treasure that Evil Cultivator had used that day, the one that could raise Sword Qi like a surging tide and turn the flowing wind. The many talismans and restrictions forged into it over a hundred years by Tantai Xuan had all been completely undone. The corner of his eye twitched, and then he suddenly thought of something.
Many of the world's great treasures had come from the Supreme One lineage.
If the youth before him truly belonged to the Supreme One lineage,
then being skilled in refining artifacts and alchemy was only natural, only natural.
The Supreme One lineage truly lived up to its name.
An ordinary cultivator at the Primordial Prenatal Qi level, one capable of founding a lineage, might spend an entire lifetime tempering a natal treasure, yet this one had been subdued in an instant.
From then on, it could be wielded as one pleased, without restraint.
Still, this item should have been with that tiger. He hadn't expected the tiger to give the treasure to the youth instead of keeping it for himself. It seemed that the tiger really did know the youth was an heir of the Supreme One lineage, and that was why he treated him so well.
Thoughts shifted and turned in Elder Tao's mind.
Then he suddenly made up his mind.
Stroking his beard with a smile, he said, "As it happens, I'd already planned to return to the mountain and look for you."
"Isn't that a coincidence?"
Qi WuHuo looked puzzled.
The Earth God reached into his robes, took out an object, and gently placed it on the table. It was made of wood, with fine grain and a talismanic character resembling a thunder serpent on its surface. It was the identity token of the Ming Zhen Dao Alliance. Qi WuHuo's expression shifted, and Elder Tao said:
"...I only just remembered."
"This token isn't bound to a Primordial Spirit."
"Since Tantai Xuan could kill someone and take it for himself, naturally anyone else can use it too."
"That Evil Cultivator was captured by the Mountain God, and you were the one who killed him, WuHuo."
"By the rules, this item should belong to you."
Earth God Tao smiled and lifted his hand, pushing the waist token he had originally planned to use himself a little closer to Qi WuHuo.
Then, smiling without changing his expression, he said:
"I knew you needed this, so I'd planned to bring it up the mountain to you anyway."
"Now's as good a time as any."
P.S. The Wine Burning Incantation comes from the folk tradition of Lu Ban's Method.
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