Four Secret Arts of Huang Chuping

"Die!"

The husband's face suddenly twisted, turning bluish-white and swollen. His eyes were bloodshot, his features so grotesque that he no longer looked human. Wrapped in chilling ghostly energy, he lunged at Taoist Zhi Gang.

Zhi Gang remained remarkably calm.

From the moment he first saw that ghost, he knew he would probably not escape tonight.

What made this kind of ghost most terrifying was possession.

One moment it could be inside one person, the next it could burrow into someone else's body. As long as it touched you, life or death would be decided instantly. There was no guarding against it.

Buzz!

At that critical instant, a clear sword cry rang out.

A cold gleam flashed.

Sword light instantly illuminated the darkness before Zhi Gang.

Huang Bai stepped forward. His ritual sword left its sheath like lightning. With a flick of his wrist, the blade became a snowy arc of light that swept across the husband's neck.

Splurt!

The head shot into the air.

The severed edge was smooth as a mirror, and blood erupted violently, splashing through the night.

The body remained in its lunging posture before crashing to the ground the next second. It twitched twice, then fell completely still.

Zhi Gang's pupils contracted sharply, and his entire body stiffened.

"Th-that sword was fast!"

Even his voice cracked.

Less than a second.

From drawing the sword to beheading him, it had been so fast that one could barely see it clearly. Not even a butcher slaughtering pigs could be that efficient.

The next moment, Zhi Gang snapped awake. He immediately looked furtively around, lowering his voice as he urged, "Quick, go! Don't let anyone see us!"

The two hurried through the streets and alleys, one after the other.

They deliberately slipped into remote, dark, winding alleys, taking a huge detour before finally returning to Kowloon Walled City.

Only when he saw the battered temple gate of Wong Tai Sin Shrine did Zhi Gang seem to let out a breath. He braced himself against the doorframe and panted heavily.

"This... this should be safer." Zhi Gang wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, though his face was still pale.

Huang Bai looked at him and asked, "That family just now... they really were ghosts?"

"What else could they have been if not ghosts?" Zhi Gang dropped into a rosewood chair, poured himself a cup of cold tea, and drank with slightly trembling hands.

"The little girl was possessed by a Vicious Ghost first, then the ghost moved into her father. That entire family was beyond saving from beginning to end."

He gulped down the cold tea. His Adam's apple bobbed a few times, and only then did his complexion improve slightly.

"Remember this. Once that thing possesses someone, that person is doomed."

"To kill a ghost, you have to kill the body it possesses too. But can ordinary people see ghosts? No. In their eyes, that's still a living person."

"So if anyone had seen your sword tonight, you'd be sitting in prison tomorrow."

Huang Bai frowned, a thoughtful look appearing in his eyes.

"Then doesn't that mean humans are naturally at a disadvantage against ghosts?"

Vicious Ghosts hid among crowds and possessed living people. Even if you knew something was a ghost, you could not act carelessly.

More terrifyingly, it could change bodies at any moment.

A newspaper vendor, a driver by the roadside, a pedestrian on the street, even a stranger who had just brushed past you—any of them could become a ghost the next second.

"Exactly." Zhi Gang gave a bitter smile, his face full of exhaustion. "Fortunately, these things aren't everywhere. The conditions for a Vicious Ghost to take form are extremely harsh. Otherwise, this world would have stopped being a place for humans long ago."

As he spoke, he suddenly looked up at Huang Bai.

"But that swordsmanship of yours..."

Huang Bai's expression did not change. He answered calmly, "I came from the mainland. My grandfather used to be a disciple of the Wudang Sect, and I learned a little from him when I was young."

Naturally, he could not tell the whole truth.

"No wonder." Zhi Gang nodded and did not press further. He merely warned him in a low voice, "Don't go looking for trouble. When you run into this sort of thing, pretend you didn't see it if you can."

He was truly frightened. Those Vicious Ghosts had already scared the courage out of him.

Since they could not be saved, there was no point meddling. Surviving one more day was enough. As long as he pretended not to see anything, life could at least go on.

"I understand." Huang Bai nodded.

After returning to his quarters, Huang Bai did not rest immediately.

He sat cross-legged, holding the dark gold Five-Ganoderma Inner Elixir in both hands. Slowly, he visualized the Five Prisons and absorbed its medicinal power to cultivate.

His eyelids trembled slightly, and his mind could not settle. All kinds of thoughts crowded in.

If he released the powder from the Inner Elixir, he could use illusions to fight ghosts. But that would not solve the problem of Vicious Ghosts blending into crowds and possessing people.

That meant he absolutely could not act rashly before confirming his target completely.

When his cultivation ended, Huang Bai rose and walked to the window.

The night wind outside was slightly cool. The layered silhouettes of Kowloon Walled City pressed into the darkness like dormant monsters.

Huang Bai looked into the distance, his spiritual sense stirring as he silently calculated.

"Seek dragons, divide gold, observe the winding mountains; each fold is another pass..."

Threads of earth energy flickered faintly through the night. The terrain of Hong Kong vaguely showed the convergence of dragon and tiger, mountains and sea embracing one another, its vital currents extraordinary.

This place truly was blessed by nature.

The next morning.

Wong Tai Sin Shrine was as deserted as ever.

Yawning, Huang Bai lit the first stick of incense for the day.

As usual, Zhi Gang sat in the doorway basking in the sun, his eyes half-closed. He looked like a dying old man, as though last night's terror had nothing to do with him.

"Last night, a suspected gas leak occurred at the home of Lin Wan's family at Number 95, Tsim Sha Tsui. The family of three tragically died. We remind all residents..."

The television news droned on.

That "family of three" in the broadcast was the very family from last night.

After listening for a moment, Zhi Gang frowned.

"Strange..."

He had thought there would at least be some other commotion.

But Huang Bai understood. The Miscellaneous Affairs Bureau had most likely stepped in to clean things up.

It seemed he would inevitably have to deal with those people in the future.

He could not help recalling details from the movie.

The commissioner seemed never to have shown his face directly from beginning to end, yet the camera was always present. Such deliberate blank space might not have been meaningless. Perhaps the commissioner himself had a problem.

Police station.

The so-called Miscellaneous Affairs Bureau was merely the most marginal department in the police station.

Its office was a shabby storeroom tucked away in a corner of the building, piled full of miscellaneous files and clutter.

Huang Yaozu, the inspector of the Miscellaneous Affairs Bureau, was an oddball who never took off his leather jacket and never put down his cigarettes or liquor. Everyone in the station treated him like a lunatic and avoided him whenever possible.

In the dim office, Huang Yaozu stared at the computer screen with bleary, drunken eyes.

A colleague beside him reported, "It's confirmed. The girl and her mother were both possessed by a ghost. The ghost eventually transferred into the husband, Lin Wan."

On the screen was a photograph of the headless corpse.

"The cut is extremely smooth," the colleague continued. "It was probably caused by a sharp weapon."

Huang Yaozu narrowed his eyes, a cigarette hanging from his lips. After a long while, he muttered,

"An expert..."

"Could there really be someone in this world who specializes in killing ghosts?"

He thought for a long time without figuring it out. Finally, he tossed the liquor bottle onto the desk and patted his colleague on the shoulder.

"Forget it. A new colleague named Li Guoqiang will be coming later. Take him to look through the files."

"Understood."

Time passed little by little.

In the blink of an eye, a month had gone by.

Huang Bai had, surprisingly, lived a relatively peaceful life during that time.

Every day, he traveled only between the Taoist temple and his quarters. During the day, he tended to the incense business; at night, he absorbed the Inner Elixir's medicinal power. When he had free time, he practiced swordsmanship.

The days seemed ordinary, but they allowed him to observe this world more closely.

"I have three Gold-Seeking Talismans."

Inside his room, Huang Bai looked down at the three blackish-brown talismans in his palm.

"They're said to ward off evil. Perhaps... they can really prevent ghost possession."

The Gold-Seeking Talismans had been passed down since the Eastern Han. They had survived countless eerie tombs and deadly places without being destroyed, so they were certainly no ordinary objects.

Just as he was thinking, Zhi Gang's voice suddenly came from outside.

"Huang Bai."

Huang Bai pushed the door open and walked out. He saw that Zhi Gang had packed his belongings and changed into an unusually clean and neat Taoist robe. He looked quieter than usual, and even more haggard.

"Where are we going?"

"Mong Kok Cemetery." Zhi Gang's tone was calm. "Come help me move some things."

The cemetery.

Trees provided deep shade, gravestones stood in rows, and when the wind blew, the grass rustled softly, carrying an air of bleak solitude.

Zhi Gang remained silent along the way, his expression complicated. His already stooped figure seemed even thinner than usual.

At last, he stopped before a row of gravestones.

"Beloved wife, He Hua."

"Beloved son, Chen Jiahao. Beloved son, Chen Jiajie. Beloved daughter, Chen Xiaoying..."

Further below was the name of his eldest grandson, Chen Guoming.

There were eight gravestones in all.

There were husband and wife, brothers and sisters, and younger generations.

Huang Bai looked at the names on the gravestones, then turned toward Zhi Gang.

At that moment, the old Taoist seemed to have aged another ten years in an instant. His eyes were hollow, and the usual sharp-tongued harshness had vanished from his face. All that remained was a body barely still standing.

"That's right."

Zhi Gang stared at the row of gravestones, his voice hoarse.

"These are all my family."

Then, he slowly began recounting the past.

Though he was a Taoist at Wong Tai Sin Taoist Temple and did not understand true magic, he had spent years in this line of work and inevitably encountered certain supernatural incidents.

Many years ago, he had provoked a Vicious Ghost.

That ghost possessed his eldest son and slaughtered the entire family in a single night.

And in the end, he had personally killed his eldest son.

Huang Bai was silent for a moment before saying only,

"My condolences."

At that moment, he finally understood Zhi Gang's fear.

It was not merely fear. It was more like an instinctive avoidance carved deep into his bones.

Anyone who had watched their entire family die before their eyes, then personally killed their own son, could never truly move on for the rest of their life.

Zhi Gang said nothing more. He simply arranged the fruit offerings one by one, lit the incense, and stood blankly before the gravestones.

Huang Bai stood beside him without urging him.

The sun gradually slanted westward.

Zhi Gang crouched down and pried up a stone brick before his eldest son's grave. Beneath it was a hidden compartment.

Inside the compartment lay an ancient booklet.

Its pages were yellowed, its binding worn, and its text written in vertical columns. It carried an ancient, weathered aura.

Several words were written on the cover:

Four Secret Arts of Huang Chuping.

Huang Chuping was none other than the legendary Wong Tai Sin.

Zhi Gang held up the booklet and slowly said,

"In the struggle between humans and ghosts, humans have always been losing. We just haven't lost completely yet."

"The ghosts destroyed the true methods for exorcising ghosts and spread a pile of fake scriptures."

The spells circulating in the world today had mostly been fabricated by swindlers, or were forgeries created by Vicious Ghosts.

"This book of magic was passed down from the Eastern Jin."

Zhi Gang handed the booklet to Huang Bai. "Unfortunately, it lacks the most crucial cultivation method, so no one has been able to practice it."

"If you meet someone with real talent in the future, pass it on to them. Don't let even this little bit die with me."

Huang Bai accepted the ancient book and felt his hand sink slightly.

"All right."

He did not say more. He simply nodded solemnly.

When he opened the first page, four secret arts came into view:

Solar Curse, Lunar Curse, Brightsight Curse, Wall-Piercing Curse.

Was this real magic?