Records of Zhang Tianshi's Demon-Slaying Adventures

Judging by the title, it seemed to be a travelogue recording Zhang Tianshi's experiences slaying demons, likely little different from the storybooks Shen Luo had read before—mostly strange tales fabricated by later generations.

Shen Luo did not pay it much mind. He dusted off the dirt clinging to it and slipped it into his sleeve pouch.

After looking through the remaining tables and chairs and finding nothing else, he gave up, left the storage room, and returned to Bluestone Terrace.

The meditation quarters at Bluestone Terrace were a two-story row building, with around twenty small rooms on each floor. Some of the temple's disciples lived there together.

Shen Luo's meditation room was at the far right of the first floor, right beside the cliff.

None of the disciples' meditation rooms were large. Aside from a bed and a table with chairs, there was nothing else, and Shen Luo's was no exception.

The moment he pushed open the door, a rich scent of pine incense rushed at him, making Shen Luo wrinkle his nose.

There was no shortage of sandalwood, pine incense, and similar fragrances in the temple, and disciples were never forbidden from using them. Such scents could help calm the mind during meditation and make it easier to enter a trance.

Still, everyone else merely lit a single stick, enough for a faint fragrance. Who would make it this strong? It was practically choking.

But there was no helping it.

Most of the sunlight in Shen Luo's room was blocked by a crooked welcoming pine beside the cliff, leaving it cool and damp. Dozens of ancient books he had scavenged from around the temple sat on the long table against the wall, most of them covered in mold spots. The smell was easy enough to imagine.

Without pine incense to suppress it, the room would have been uninhabitable.

Used to it by now, Shen Luo sat before the long table against the wall, took out the newly acquired Records of Zhang Tianshi's Demon-Slaying Adventures from his sleeve pouch, and placed it on the table.

The book's outward appearance was not bad. Other than the rather revolting mold spots on its cover, it was fairly intact, much better than most of Shen Luo's collection.

He first picked up the kettle on the table and gulped down nearly half a pot of water. Only after resting for the time it took to burn half an incense stick did he recover some of his strength.

He opened the ancient book's cover, revealing a yellowed title page bearing an illustration of a short, stout Daoist in a lotus crown and a Seven Stars robe. One hand formed a finger seal, while the other held a sword, his eyes wide in the fierce visage of a wrathful guardian.

It was presumably a portrait of Zhang Tianshi, though the lines were rough and likely more expressive than realistic. After all, if the real man looked like that, he would have been more terrifying than any ghost or monster.

Shen Luo smiled and turned the page, beginning to read.

The moment he did, Shen Luo was immediately drawn in. The book truly was a collection of strange tales, recounting many anecdotes of Zhang Tianshi subduing demons and suppressing ghosts throughout Lingnan.

No dates were recorded, so there was no way to verify when these events had taken place. However, the place names were clearly written and could still be investigated, so the events likely had not happened too long ago.

Zhang Tianshi was a true Daoist master who possessed secret alchemical arts and the true transmission of talismans. He could refine Golden Cores and make talismans, and in the book he subdued more than a dozen ghosts, along with many demons such as rat spirits and fox enchantresses.

Shen Luo had read plenty of strange-tale novels like this before, and there was little novelty in their content. Even the ghosts and demonic arts described within were less varied and exciting than those in other books—nothing more than the usual plots of evil ghosts haunting people and demonic Mei bewitching their hearts.

Yet what Shen Luo could not put down were the various techniques described in the book for battling evil ghosts. Their methods of use were all recorded in clear detail. One tale described a wealthy landowner tormented beyond endurance by a fox Mei. Zhang Tianshi gave him a whisk and instructed him to hang it above his doorway, after which the fox trouble ceased for good.

The book also mentioned strange methods such as using black dog blood to write talismans, a butcher's knife to suppress ghosts, and ancient coins to ward off evil.

Several stories even ended with drawings of the talismans used within them. Their strokes flowed like dragons and snakes, as though completed in a single breath, carrying a truly distinctive air.

However, after examining them closely, Shen Luo noticed something was off.

He had seen some of these talismans pasted above doorways in the temple and in other books. Though their names were the same as those drawn here, and their forms were very similar, there were obvious differences in the finer movements of their brushwork.

After looking at them for a few moments, Shen Luo immediately rummaged through the pile of old books on his table. Before long, he pulled out an even more battered volume whose cover had completely fallen away.

Only the first dozen or so thin pages of this old book could still be read. Most of the later pages had decayed and stuck together; with the slightest forceful tug, they would crumble into fragments.

The book was called True Mirror of Secret Talisman Arts, an ancient work devoted to recording talismans passed down since antiquity. It mentioned many rules and taboos concerning the making and use of talismans.

In this book, talismans were broadly divided into three categories according to their functions: transformation, suppression, and attack.

Talismans such as the Petty-Person Transformation Talisman and the Disaster-Dispelling Talisman belonged to the transformation category, while the Peace Talisman and House-Guarding Talisman belonged to the suppression category. As for attack talismans, the text was vague and said very little, though it did mention names such as the Flame-Igniting Talisman and Minor Thunder Talisman.

Of all the kinds of talismans, attack talismans concerned Shen Luo the most. The sight of Daoist Luo activating a yellow talisman to restrain yin energy years ago had left an impression on him that remained vivid to this day.

Yet among the books he could access, descriptions of such talismans were exceedingly scarce, shrouding them in an invisible veil of mystery.

If he encountered sinister yin forces again in the future, suppression talismans such as the Peace Talisman or protective talismans might keep him safe. But if he faced a true ghost or Mei, carrying attack talismans would naturally be far more reliable.

Unfortunately, the readable portion of the book contained only such general outlines. The parts that truly described the effects and methods for drawing talismans were all in the latter half, nearly all of which could no longer be examined.

Shen Luo read through some earlier passages and found that the Peace Talisman had fortunately been preserved. Since Records of Zhang Tianshi's Demon-Slaying Adventures also contained this talisman, he immediately brought the two together for comparison.

"Eh, they really are identical." He drew in a light breath and spoke to himself.

Dong...

At that moment, the sound of an evening drum rang out, finally rousing Shen Luo from his thoughts.

He raised his head and glanced at the sky outside the window, only to realize that evening had arrived without his noticing.

Ever since coming up the mountain, he had been quite interested in ghosts and other strange matters. Apart from cultivating the Minor Transforming Yang Art, he was temporarily unable to practice tough external techniques such as the Azure Yang Hand, so he spent most of his time reading these books.

He had not expected this reading session to take up more than half the day.

Shaking his head with a smile, he tidied the books on the table, stood, and walked out of his room.

Nearly a hundred zhang to the right behind the Three Pure Ones Hall lay a level stretch of mountain cliff, where several separate small courtyards had been built. The temple's inner disciples lived there, each with a small private courtyard rather than sharing quarters with the other disciples.

By then, the sky had grown quite dark. Outside one of the courtyards, three figures had gathered.