Spirit Guiding Technique

Chapter 1: Spirit Guiding Technique

The clouds were thin and the wind was light; the moon was bright and the stars were sparse. A full moon hung high in the sky, casting a watery, shimmering glow that rendered the night both cold and luminous. Beneath this moonlight, in the heart of a lush, dense mountain forest, a crisp sound of bells began to ring. The rhythm of the bells was precise, as if playing a strange and marvelous melody—a sound that felt somewhat eerie in the absolute silence of the woods.

As the ringing drew closer, the scene within the forest was gradually revealed through the cold, lunar shadows. A youth of about seventeen or eighteen years old walked slowly through the thicket. He wore a black Taoist cap, a grey jacket, and yellow sneakers. The boy was not tall, standing only about 1.7 meters, and appeared remarkably quiet and refined. In his right hand, he held a small golden bell, while his left hand gripped a wooden sword carved from peach wood.

Every two steps the youth took, he would shake the bell twice and wave the peach wood sword through the air, as if driving something away. His attire seemed somewhat comical, but when one looked at what followed behind him, it was no longer funny—it was eerie and terrifying.

Trailing behind him was a line of people—or, to be precise, a line of corpses. Their eyes were tightly shut, their chests were still, and their faces were deathly pale, devoid of any sign of life. Yet, the truly uncanny part was that they followed the youth, walking with a stiff, mechanical gait. There were ten of them, standing in a neat row. Each had a yellow paper talisman, twenty centimeters long and five centimeters wide, pasted to their forehead. Vermilion runes, incomprehensible to the average person, were scrawled across the paper, obscuring most of their faces. Even so, it was clear they were all in their thirties or forties. Each person rested their right hand on the right shoulder of the one in front, and the one at the very front rested his hand on the youth's right shoulder.

The youth took two steps, the bell chimed twice, and the corpses behind him followed suit with two steps of their own. It was a harrowing sight: a boy leading a train of the dead through the mountain forest. If anyone else were to see this, they might well be frightened to death. Fortunately, there was not another living soul in these woods besides the boy, so there was no fear of startling anyone.

However, the insects and beasts of the forest seemed terrified; they remained completely dormant, not daring to make a single sound. This only made the dark, silent woods feel even more desolate and sinister. Now, besides the ringing of the boy's bell, only his low, muttered curses broke the silence.

"You bastard, may you all die out! May your whole family be wiped out! You killed so many of my uncles, you will face retribution! I curse you to a miserable death!" The youth appeared incensed. His cursing grew louder and louder until it finally erupted into a roar directed at the heavens.

The heavens seemed to sense the youth's fury. The clear, starry night vanished in an instant, replaced by a thick, pitch-black cloud. Blue snakes of electricity darted through the clouds, and thunderous roars shook the earth.

"Heavens, what? Have you finally opened your eyes? If you have, then strike down that bastard who killed them all! Let him die a miserable death!" The youth pointed his finger at the sky and bellowed, his boundless rage laid bare.

BOOM! A deafening explosion rang out. A blinding light erupted high above, illuminating the entire world. A silver bolt of lightning descended from the sky, striking the mountain ridge behind him and splitting a massive tree—one that would have required at least five men to encircle—with a giant crack.

Under the glare of that intense light, the youth's appearance was no longer as blurred as it had been in the moonlight. By the flash of the lightning, one could see his upturned, slightly immature face, which was covered in dust and etched with both fury and exhaustion. His grey jacket was also clearly visible in the harsh light; it had originally been black, but had turned grey from being coated in layers of dust. The yellow sneakers on his feet were not their original color either, but were similarly veiled in a layer of grime.

The youth's name was Chu Xiaotian. He was born in a small mountain village. His parents had left to work in the city when he was very young, and after they departed, they never returned. There was no news of them, and no one in the village knew what had happened to them. But everyone understood that they must have passed away, for his parents were known for their filial piety and would never have abandoned their elderly parents at home.

Chu Xiaotian had no choice but to live with his grandparents. The old couple was frail, and with no source of income, their days were incredibly bitter. Fortunately, their region had a custom known as the "Spirit Guiding Technique." To put it plainly, it was corpse-guiding—a method of leading the deceased into their graves in a way that people of this era could not comprehend. The locals believed that after a person died, they had to walk into the grave themselves to be considered to have died a natural death and to have a chance at ascending to the Western Paradise. Chu Xiaotian's grandfather happened to possess this skill, and he was renowned throughout the surrounding villages as the number one "Spirit Guide." The corpses he guided would walk into their graves with perfect naturalness, never stopping halfway or collapsing like those guided by others.

Because of this, whenever a funeral was needed in the area, people would come to ask his grandfather to step in and guide the deceased to their final rest. The pay was quite generous, so while their lives were hard, they never went hungry.

Chu Xiaotian never went to school, but he learned to read those ancient characters from his grandfather from a young age. His grandfather told him the outside world was too dangerous and warned him never to leave the village. He wanted Chu Xiaotian to inherit the Spirit Guiding Technique and stay in the countryside, using his skills to help the local villagers find peace. It was not only a great merit but also a way to support the family.

Chu Xiaotian had no fondness for the outside world. As a child, he knew that his parents had left this village and never returned. Thus, he chose his grandfather's path.

Chu Xiaotian was clever and quick-witted, grasping everything he was taught instantly. By the age of fifteen, he was already able to guide the deceased into their graves on his own. From that day on, his grandfather retired from the "world," and Chu Xiaotian took over all the business. He did not tarnish his grandfather's reputation as the top Spirit Guide; in fact, he showed signs of being even better than his master.

Two years after Chu Xiaotian inherited the technique, his grandparents, both seventy years old, passed away on the same day. After weeping bitterly, Chu Xiaotian handled their funeral arrangements himself. Using the Spirit Guiding Technique he had learned from them, he led his grandparents into the graves they had prepared for themselves. This time, his technique reached a peak his grandfather had never achieved: under his guidance, his grandparents walked into their graves hand-in-hand.

On that day, Chu Xiaotian's fame soared, surpassing his grandfather and making him the new generation's master Spirit Guide.

However, Chu Xiaotian did not remain a Spirit Guide for long. His grandfather had underestimated the temptation the outside world held for a young man. Many villagers worked in the city and had earned far more money than he ever could as a Spirit Guide. When they returned, they told Chu Xiaotian many stories about the city, causing his initial hatred for the outside world to transform into a deep longing. Six months after his grandparents passed away, Chu Xiaotian followed some of the villagers to the city to work and earn big money.

Before he left, he knelt in front of his grandparents' graves for an entire night, and the next day, he departed with the villagers.

Life in the city was indeed much more exciting than in the small mountain village, but Chu Xiaotian, who had never been to school, found it hard to integrate into that excitement. He decided he needed to learn. He worked in a construction crew with the uncles who had brought him out, building subway tunnels for the city. He labored hard during the day, and at night, he would happily take his daily wages and go to sleep. Sometimes, he would go out with his uncles to enjoy himself—drinking beer at food stalls, eating hot pot or late-night snacks, and occasionally visiting karaoke bars to belt out songs so loud and off-key they could scare ghosts to tears and sing cows to death.

Chu Xiaotian felt these days were not bad. Though he was more tired than before, life was far more vibrant.

Yet, these days did not last long. Three months later, the tunnel they were excavating collapsed. His uncles, who were working underground, along with several others, were all buried beneath the earth.

It must be said that Chu Xiaotian was lucky. He would have been among them that day, but he had been feeling unwell and had gone to see a doctor. It was precisely because of this that he escaped the disaster.

After such a serious accident, the construction management proved quite responsible. They hired famous rescue experts and teams, with the experts guiding the excavation and rescue efforts on-site. They worked from both ends of the collapsed section toward the center. After three days of careful digging, those buried in the tunnel were all unearthed. Some had only suffered minor scrapes, others had broken limbs, but fortunately, no one had died. The collapsed section had been supported by heavy steel frames, which had held up a small pocket of survival space for them.