Arts and Techniques

Ji Ming's eyes darkened with shock and fury.

Fortunately, to be on the safe side, he had brought Paper Figure Zhang along.

There really was something fishy in the Zhang family residence!

He was both stunned and relieved.

"Let's go!"

Ji Ming immediately rose, preparing to make his escape.

"What about him...?"

Wang Yuanlang looked at Paper Figure Zhang, who was rolling about before the ritual altar.

"He suffered a backlash from the spellcraft. He won't live!"

Ji Ming's face remained expressionless. The two figures vanished in an instant, and before leaving, Ji Ming even set the paper effigy shop ablaze.

Zhang's Paper Effigy Shop was instantly ignited, becoming a vast sea of flames.

Yet inside, after Ji Ming and the other had left, Paper Figure Zhang struggled to his feet. Fierce flames blazed over his body, making him look like a burning paper effigy as he muttered under his breath.

"My grandson, my grandson!"

He struggled to crawl before the shrine and howled.

"Goddess Red Flower, aid me!"

With his howl, the red silk before the shrine suddenly fluttered. A dense black wind swept forth, and within it appeared a pitch-black demon god statue with three heads and eight arms, its features seductive and bewitching. Yet the dot of cinnabar deep within its brow carried a hint of holiness.

The black wind surged out from the shrine. Countless gales ravaged the interior of the paper effigy shop, shrouding Paper Figure Zhang amid the flames and bringing the fire burning over his body to a halt.

The black wind poured into his body. In an instant, amid shrill, miserable screeches, Paper Figure Zhang fell backward. His entire body turned to flying ash, but a strand of baleful black qi shot out, soaring into the heavens with the black wind before vanishing in a flash.

The tremendous commotion immediately alarmed the neighboring residents. In their terror, everyone hurriedly drew water from the wells to put out the fire.

Zhang Jian and Zhang Yi arrived at Zhang's Paper Effigy Shop almost at the same time.

"Were we too late?"

Zhang Yi and Zhang Jian exchanged a glance.

Zhang Jian frowned. No matter how he looked at the scene before him, it seemed as though someone had been silenced?

Burning the corpse to erase the evidence?

At the same time, Zhang Jian swept his gaze over the surroundings. His sliver of spiritual awareness was extraordinarily sharp, and now he faintly sensed two pairs of eyes watching him from the shadows.

In an instant, his gaze turned toward the corner of one of the streets.

Two figures flashed out of sight.

With a thought, Zhang Jian shot forward like a phantom.

Zhang Yi was startled, then immediately hurried after him.

Watching Zhang Jian race ahead at astonishing speed—even a fraction faster than himself—Zhang Yi was somewhat dazed.

The spiritual aura emanating from Zhang Jian was exceptionally dense.

At some point, his grandnephew's strength had reached such a level. He might even have surpassed him.

It left Zhang Yi deeply shaken.

How long had it been?

Yet a trace of competitiveness also rose in Zhang Yi's heart.

Ahead, Zhang Jian felt the spiritual aura within him surge, exchanging endlessly with the power of heaven and earth in the air. As he moved, he seemed to transform into a wisp of spiritual essence, far faster than ordinary techniques of gathering qi and leaping through the air could ever be.

Like a great bird, he blocked the two figures in an instant.

Those two figures were Ji Ming and Wang Yuanlang.

Watching that spiritual aura roil forth without restraint, Ji Ming's face darkened. He could not understand it. He had clearly used a secret heterodox seal to conceal his own aura—how had the other party detected him?

This feeling of facing the unknown left him uneasy. He was even less willing to continue tangling with them.

The green jade fan in his hand turned. The scriptures inscribed upon it gleamed with faint black light as five streams of dense yin qi burst forth.

"Five Rampant Ghost Gods, Spirit-Binding and General-Commanding!"

"Go! Kill this bastard at once!"

Terrifying blue-black figures emerged one after another from the shadows beneath their feet. In an instant, countless streaks of black light tore through the air, lunging viciously at Zhang Jian.

Yin winds raged, their chill piercing to the bone!

Within the yin winds, five terrifying ghost gods with hulking bodies like giant apes reached through the air and clawed at him.

Zhang Jian felt frigid qi pierce into the depths of his meridians from every direction, freezing his limbs. But at that moment, the blazing spiritual power within him erupted violently, and faint crimson lightning and flame even flickered from his eyes.

He did not find the ghosts rushing to kill him particularly frightening. At that moment, there was only one thought in his mind: throw a punch.

Throw a punch and kill these ghosts.

In an instant, incomparably fierce, pure-yang true qi erupted from his body as he instinctively gathered the pure-yang spiritual power within him.

The moment he condensed that pure-yang spiritual power, the crimson lightning that had been coursing through his meridians seemed to hear a command. At last, it cleaved through an invisible barrier, transforming into a streak of lightning flame that swept out and struck the five rampaging soldier ghosts lunging at him.

Crimson lightning flared with his punch like a blazing sun, shaking the long street. When the five soldier ghosts rushing toward him met the lightning, it was as though they had suffered a crushing blow.

Humanlike pain and terror appeared on those five horrifying ghostly faces.

Half the black wind dispersed in an instant, no longer daring to approach.

"Lightning arts?"

Ji Ming's expression changed wildly at the sight.

Among all spellcraft, lightning arts could be called one of the most profound disciplines. Utterly hard and utterly yang, they were the nemesis of countless ghosts and yin spirits.

He could sense that with just one strike, the five rampant yin soldiers he had painstakingly refined had already suffered grievous damage.

Fear rising in his heart, he flicked the green jade fan in his hand. Faint light danced within the scriptures as boundless Five Rampant ghost mist poured forth.

He seized Wang Yuanlang, hiding themselves within the darkness as they fled swiftly.

He did not even leave behind a single threat.

"Hm!"

Zhang Jian looked at the black fog filling the sky, his vision darkening. His innate spiritual senses spread outward as the spiritual aura around him surged. Searching for that invisible trace of aura, he shot forward at high speed.

Yet he still quickly lost all sense of the two auras.

Zhang Yi also descended from the rooftops at that moment. Looking at the ghost mist filling the surroundings, the two exchanged a glance, both somewhat helpless.

Neither of them had yet had time to cultivate the latter three arts in the Nine Chapters of Paulownia Mountain Purity. Otherwise, they would not have been so hamstrung.

"What a pity!"

Zhang Jian also felt some regret. This time, he had had a chance to keep those two accomplices behind!

But he felt even more doubt.

The hidden cultivators were not as terrifying as he had imagined. Though they could command ghosts, their bodies were no different from those of ordinary internal-cultivation martial artists at the innate stage?

Zhang Jian could not understand the reason for it.

Paper Figure Zhang, on the other hand, had seemed somewhat more frightening.

Casting aside the many thoughts in his mind, Zhang Jian exchanged a glance with Zhang Yi. Both could see the eagerness in the other's eyes.

This was the first time they had encountered such outsiders beyond the secular world—and they had even managed to defeat them. Deep in their hearts, both were stirred with excitement.

"After we return, it seems we need to master those three spells as soon as possible! I just wonder whether Uncle Yi and I have the aptitude for them?"

The latter portion of the Nine Chapters of Paulownia Mountain Purity recorded three minor spells.

Those three spells were the Minor Wind-Thunder Technique, the Soul-Cleansing Spell, and the Myriad Wood Formula.

Of them, the Soul-Cleansing Spell combined offense and defense. It was specifically meant for dealing with yin souls and vicious specters, and could also deliver wandering souls from suffering.

The Myriad Wood Formula could condense the power of yi wood and gather yi-wood essence qi around the body for protection. It was a defensive spell.

The Minor Wind-Thunder Technique, meanwhile, could be divided into two aspects. One was the Wind-Walking Art, which allowed one to briefly command the winds.

The other was the Wind-Thunder Art, which possessed considerable divine might.

But cultivating all three spells came with certain requirements.

These involved a cultivator's constitution—for instance, spiritual roots.

Though not every immortal cultivator needed spiritual roots, possessing them truly allowed one to achieve twice the result with half the effort when cultivating spells of a particular attribute.

Both the Myriad Wood Formula and the Minor Wind-Thunder Technique had certain requirements. Without spiritual roots, cultivating them would inevitably be more difficult.

The Soul-Cleansing Spell, however, was broadly applicable. It was a spell anyone could cultivate, testing only the cultivator's comprehension and aptitude.