The Method of Soul-Calling Shadow-Binding

Suian City.

Within the official residence, inside a side chamber, several flickering candle flames cast their glow across the entire room.

"My son is dead."

A slightly aged, hoarse voice rang out. A right hand covered in protruding veins rubbed against the smooth jujube-wood armrest.

"For so many years, the descendants of my Sheng Family have always died young. It was only with great difficulty that I finally had this one son, yet he has lost his life because of this... Senior Brother, I cannot accept this."

The speaker was an old man with silver hair and dark temples. He wore a brocade robe with a rhinoceros-horn jade belt, and there was a cold, sinister air between his brows.

"Clack."

On the chessboard, a black piece was placed.

Sitting opposite the old man was a Daoist wearing a flowing, wide-sleeved robe.

The Daoist stroked his long sideburns, and after the black piece held between his fingers landed, he spoke: "Junior Brother Sheng, you are also a disciple of my Chongyang Palace. You should know that in this world of five turbidities, what benefit do offspring in the mundane, dusty world hold for the likes of us? Why must you trouble your mind and fret over such matters?"

The Daoist raised his eyes and glanced at Sheng Qingzhi once more.

"You also know that our Master once cast your fortune; it is fated that you are destined to leave no descendants. This matter is already set in stone. Even if you refuse to believe it, sigh!"

Hearing this final sigh, Sheng Qingzhi lowered his gaze and remained silent. He stared at the chessboard for a long while before picking up a white piece to play, only then speaking in a slow voice.

"Qinghong was my only son. I had hoped that one day he would bring glory to our family name, which is why I sent him into the military. Who would have thought that the child would be so disappointing, acting arrogantly in the army and offending the young prince of the Prince of Northern Pacification... Since he lacked the ambition to become a dragon among men, I, as his father, only hoped he could live in peace and become a wealthy man. Who could have foreseen that he would die at the hands of thieves? As his father, I cannot simply remain indifferent, can I?"

The Daoist dropped the black piece in his hand, his brows furrowed slightly, and he said in a low voice: "Then what do you intend to do?"

"Daoist Zhen," Sheng Qingzhi lowered his head and bowed slightly, "I hope that you can lend me the Nine Lands Spirit Official Seal. With the power of the Spirit Official's precious seal, I wish to find the murderer who killed my son."

"That will not do."

The wide-robed Daoist raised his brows and shook his head.

"The sect's heavy treasures cannot be given away lightly, let alone for such private matters... Junior Brother, at most, I can lend you the 'Sixteen Flying Cloud Riders' under my command to assist you."

"The 'Sixteen Flying Cloud Riders'? I recall they are the Daoist soldiers you personally trained. Very well, that way I will not need to mobilize the men from the Inspection Bureau..."

Sheng Qingzhi nodded, feeling a sense of helplessness in his heart.

The Sixteen Flying Cloud Riders were merely Daoist military slaves. However, in terms of strength, they should be peerless among the martial artists of the jianghu. Each of these sixteen riders was hand-picked, well-equipped, and highly trained—the elite of the elite.

It was just that Daoist military slaves were, in the end, merely flesh and blood; how could they compare to the Nine Lands Spirit Official Seal, which could summon and command the Five Hundred Spirit Officials of Chongyang Palace?

Those Five Hundred Spirit Officials were all essences of fire born from the profound Primordial Origin Fire Seed. They were all formless and intangible, like clusters of fire, unbearably scorching.

The brat from the Cheng Family who killed my son is not a threat, but the person behind him is a question. Moreover, this involves the secret of the 'Life-Stealing Bone Bowl', which I cannot reveal to Daoist Zhen, let alone the Chongyang Palace of the Daoist sect...

It would not be difficult to use the power of Chongyang Palace to find the murderer's whereabouts, but if the news leaked, it would not only attract the attention of the Imperial Court's Evil-Slaying Bureau and Blood Law Bureau, but if it ruined the sect's grand plans, it would invite punishment—that would be a loss outweighing the gain.

"By the way, Junior Brother Sheng."

Daoist Zhen fished a small, exquisite copper-skinned gourd from his robes.

"This is the 'Cinnabar Essence Fire Talisman' bestowed upon you by our Master, and it is also the foundation of your cultivation. Next year, during the sect's fire sacrifice, you shall consume this 'Cinnabar Essence Fire Talisman'. This is the sect's reward for your diligent work over these years!"

Hearing the words of this Daoist Zhen, there was no joy on Sheng Qingzhi's face; instead, it was veiled in a look of sorrow.

In the secret chamber of the He Family's main residence, He Ping sat cross-legged. In front of him sat a small incense burner and a mirror, with a stick of incense inserted into the copper burner.

The smoke from the incense rose straight up, the embers glowing brightly, and a faint fragrance drifted through the air. In the past few days, after returning home, He Ping had begun preparations for the coming changes, and his choice was to further enhance his own strength.

"After all, the crisis I am facing now is far greater than in the past. If I do not improve my strength to deal with this crisis, it will not do. Driven by necessity, I have no choice but to attempt some dangerous methods!"

Among the techniques passed down by the Immortal Puppet Sect, the three forbidden seals—"Soul-Calling Shadow-Binding," "Eight Element Bone Locking Method," and "Body-Shifting Demonic Curse"—were the most formidable.

These three forbidden incantations were also known as the "Shadow-Calling Method," the "Spider Binding Technique," and the "Body-Shifting Curse." Among the various methods recorded in the Formless Secret Treasury, they were famous for being treacherous, unpredictable, and vicious.

Now, He Ping intended to take the risk and practice the "Shadow-Calling Method" from the three forbidden seals.

"Yuan Fu Peng Yu, the vast heavens are not the heavens, the profound mysteries are not the heavens, the heavens have no form or substance, no beginning—no up, down, or four directions..."

His hands formed seals, and the incantation flowed from his mouth like rolling pearls. As he continued to chant, the smoke from the incense became as rigid as iron wire.

Suddenly, He Ping pressed his right hand onto the incense. In an instant, a strange suction seemed to emanate from his palm, and the smoke gathered toward his palm like a living creature.

As he flipped his right hand open, the smoke had condensed into a small ball, rolling incessantly in his palm.

"Go!"

He Ping suddenly flicked his hand, and the tiny smoke ball shot out, striking an oil lamp not far away. The wick was ignited, and the flame flared up violently.

Whoosh!

The dark red firelight flared, and the pitch-black secret chamber was illuminated. This room was also extremely eerie, piled high with all sorts of puppet dolls, and even the ceiling had several puppet figures suspended in the air.

These puppet figures lacked facial features; their faces were eroded by a layer of dark red, appearing very demonic and sinister.

In the secret chamber, not far from where He Ping had placed the incense burner, hung a bamboo birdcage covered with a black cloth.

At this moment, as the oil lamp lit up, a strange scene occurred—

On the white wall behind He Ping, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, several shadows were cast at some unknown time. Those shadows were thin and long, flickering in and out of existence, appearing exceptionally demonic.

A gust of wind blew from an unknown source, and the hands and feet of the puppet dolls hanging from the ceiling made sounds. Because of the flickering firelight in the oil lamp, the shadows cast on the wall also swayed, and paired with the strange noises in the room, it sounded as if they were whispering to one another.

He Ping remained expressionless, continuing to chant silently. He paid no heed to the strange phenomena within the secret chamber, though fine beads of sweat began to seep from his temples.

(The Soul-Calling Shadow-Binding technique does not require the additional consumption of blood and qi to refine, but the risks are extremely high. The slightest carelessness will result in a backlash from the spell...)

His heart was filled with tension, yet he strove to calm his mind and continue the incantation.

"United in the three truths, known as essence, spirit, and life; humans possess them in full, while creatures possess them in part. True nature knows neither good nor evil; the supreme sage comprehends..."

Gradually, the shadow on the wall behind him became vivid. Because it was elongated, the blurred visage began to take on distinct features, as if manifesting into reality, revealing twisted facial contours.

--According to ancient records, on the day of one's predestined birth, if one lights a lamp at the fifth watch, one may observe the shadow of a person. The shadow under the lamp will split into nine, varying in depth of color. These nine shadows each have a name:

The first is called Right Emperor, the second Wangliang, the third Xiejieshu, the fourth Chifu, the fifth Suoguan, the sixth Ponu, the seventh Zao??, the eighth is Hailingtai, and only the ninth shadow remains nameless...

"These are the nine Shadow Deities, usually hidden and slumbering within a person's shadow. The Immortal Puppet Sect's forbidden technique, the 'Soul-Calling Shadow-Binding,' is meant to awaken the Shadow Deities hidden within the shadow and exert control through chanting and spellcasting. When this spell is cultivated to a profound level, it possesses all manner of unfathomable transformations and immense power!"

Thoughts raced through He Ping's mind, but his gaze remained fixed on the mirror before the incense burner. Through the mirror, he could see the shadow on the wall behind him.

The numerous shadows on the white wall seemed to come alive. He locked his gaze onto the faintest of them, and from his mouth issued a low, deep voice, slowly calling out.

"Right Emperor, Right Emperor, if you do not awaken now, when shall you?"

In an instant, that mass of pale-gray shadow on the wall jolted, and a pair of incomparably deep, crimson-blooded eyes snapped open.