A kindly smile appeared on his face. "Actually... we've met before."
"Not long after you were born, your father brought you back to our hometown to meet me and ask me to name you."
"I knew perfectly well that the newborn before me was the child who had died at the Drought Ghost's hands more than seventy years earlier. I hesitated, then said the child should be called Cui Jiuyang."
"When you heard me speak, you turned to look at me, reached out to touch my beard, and started laughing. Those giggles cut through my heart like a knife."
"The greatest mistake I ever made in my life was... causing your death."
"All I want is for you to survive tomorrow."
"That's why, after your father carried you away, I tried every means imaginable to send a wisp of my divine soul seventy years into the past."
Cui Jiuyang's head was in a jumble, but he still managed to piece together the rough timeline.
Just as he was about to ask how he could return to a hundred years in the future, a gentle breeze blew past, rustling the leaves of the Great Locust Tree.
The elderly Cui Chengshou looked at him affectionately and waved him away, signaling that he should go.
Then Cui Jiuyang opened his eyes. Dawn was just breaking, and his young Great-Grandfather was washing his face by the doorway.
Cui Jiuyang sat up, unable to quite distinguish dream from reality. Only after a long while did he pinch his thigh and climb out of bed.
He stared absently at Cui Chengshou washing his face.
Two Great-Grandfathers.
Identical jade pendants.
One had summoned him from a hundred years in the future; the other could enter his dreams right under the first one's nose.
Yet their demands were diametrically opposed!
One wanted to take him to send off the Drought Ghost; the other insisted he must never cooperate.
His thoughts were too tangled for him to decide. Meanwhile, Cui Chengshou had finished getting ready and set two bowls of chicken noodle soup on the table.
"Eat up. We're heading out afterward. The Drought Ghost is roaming the mountains, so we'd better leave early." With that, Cui Chengshou began noisily slurping his noodles.
Cui Jiuyang glanced at him several times, noticed nothing unusual, and got up to wash.
By the time the sun stood high in the sky, the two reached the summit of West Mountain. Looking down from the peak, they saw nothing but desolation.
Dead grass stretched in patches, and trees killed by drought stood unevenly across the land, their branches like hands reaching toward the heavens to beg for rain.
"Look over there!" Cui Chengshou pointed southwest.
Cui Jiuyang turned and saw cracked earth to the southwest, its gaping fissures like the mouths of crying infants. Without warning, Cui Chengshou flicked him on the back of the head, sending a cool current through it and into his eyes.
Looking again, he saw an emaciated figure in ragged clothes standing at the center of the cracked fields. Though it stood beneath the blazing sun, it radiated a sinister, terrifying aura.
Cui Jiuyang asked, "Is that the Drought Ghost?"
Cui Chengshou pressed the Ghost-Driving Drum Mallet into Cui Jiuyang's hand, tightened the Locust-Tree Belt around his waist, and said, "The same fate doesn't mean the same life. We all have destinies of utmost yang. My arts reach the divine; all I need is to complete my merit and ascend.
"As for you, even if you don't enjoy silken robes and sumptuous meals, you at least have no worries about making a living.
"But him? He wandered homeless, displaced by war, until he finally collapsed by the roadside and starved to death.
"Even death brought him no peace. He became a malevolent ghost and brought harm to the world.
"If your Great-Grandfather weren't seeking merit and trying to find a way to deliver his soul, a few casual strikes of the Thunder Technique would scatter his soul and deny him rebirth forever."
The two followed the mountain path until they were eighty-one paces from the Drought Ghost. Cui Chengshou flicked a drop of Black Dog Blood onto the ground, leaving a black dot.
He formed a hand seal and, holding the Soul-Guiding Bell without ringing it, walked straight toward the Drought Ghost. Without looking back, he left these instructions.
"Stand on the Black Dog Blood and don't move. I'll bring the Drought Ghost over."
With the Ghost-Driving Mallet in his hand and the Locust-Tree Belt around his waist, Cui Jiuyang could not keep his legs from trembling.
Only from here could he make it out clearly.
The Drought Ghost was more than twice a man's height. Beneath its tattered clothes was a withered skeleton, red tinged with black. A faint crimson glow shone from the two dark hollows of its skull's eye sockets. It was unspeakably horrifying.
Chapter 10: The Drought Ghost
"Jiuyang, don't be afraid. In a moment, he'll ring the Soul-Guiding Bell, and the Drought Ghost will follow him over."
"When they get close, he'll tell you to strike the Drought Ghost three times with the Ghost-Driving Mallet. Don't listen to him. Knock the Soul-Guiding Bell out of his hand instead!"
An aged voice sounded beside his ear. It was the elderly Great-Grandfather who had entered his dream the night before.
Cui Jiuyang was already nervous. Hearing this only tangled his heart further.
Over there, Cui Chengshou had begun ringing the Soul-Guiding Bell, drawing the Drought Ghost after him as he approached step by step. Here, the elderly Great-Grandfather kept urging Cui Jiuyang in his ear.
Cui Jiuyang's head swam. All he wanted was to turn and run.
Yet somehow, the drop of Black Dog Blood his Great-Grandfather had placed on the ground seemed to have become sticky-stickier than 502 superglue. It held him firmly in place, unable to move an inch.
"He cast a spell, drawing a prison on the ground to trap you on that spot of Black Dog Blood. He's afraid you'll ruin his plans."
As the young Great-Grandfather drew closer, the aged voice in Cui Jiuyang's ear spoke faster and faster.
"Jiuyang, all he wants is to ascend! What does he care whether you live or die once the Drought Ghost enters your body?"
"I bitterly regret what I did back then. That's why I exhausted every means to come here and save you. Don't hesitate!"
The young Great-Grandfather was only twenty paces from Cui Jiuyang now. As the Soul-Guiding Bell rang ever more rapidly, Cui Jiuyang could see the two blazing fires in the Drought Ghost's eye sockets growing dimmer.
Colorless flames seemed to burn over the Drought Ghost's body. The closer it came, the more fiercely the sun seemed to blaze, until Cui Jiuyang was drenched in sweat.
The hotter he grew, the more agitated he became.
Cui Chengshou led the Drought Ghost closer and closer, but stopped three paces away. As his footsteps ceased, the ringing gradually slowed.
At the same moment, the elderly Cui Chengshou's voice in his ear cut off abruptly.
And so the two men, the ghost, and the wisp of divine soul concealed in the shadows all fell silent. Only the Soul-Guiding Bell rang from time to time.
Beneath the blazing sun, sweat poured off Cui Jiuyang like rain. It ran from his forehead into his eyes, stinging them sore.
Cui Chengshou shook the bell, his eyes full of mischievous amusement. Suddenly, he said, "Come, Jiuyang. Raise the Ghost-Driving Drum Mallet and tap your own Baihui Point at the crown of your head three times! No force needed. A light tap will do."
The instant he finished, the old man's furious roar sounded in Cui Jiuyang's ear. "Don't listen to him! He's noticed I'm here! He wants to drive me away! Then you'll be doomed!"
Cui Jiuyang swallowed. The hand holding the Ghost-Driving Mallet stirred, then dropped back to his side.
Seeing him fail to act, Cui Chengshou sneered and snapped, "Just as I thought!
"Vile thing!
"The evil-thought corpse of the Three Corpses, which I severed with the Heart Sword three years ago, has attached itself to you. Whatever he's told you is nothing but fiendish trickery meant to kill us both!
"You must not believe him!"
"Act now! That corpse has half my cultivation and all my memories from before three years ago. Once he draws on the Drought Ghost's power and grows strong... hmph! Our deaths would be the least of it. When the land lies barren for a thousand miles and plague runs rampant, we two, great-grandfather and great-grandson, will likely be imprisoned beneath the Eighteen Layers of Hell to suffer ten thousand years of soul-devouring torment!"
The old man in Cui Jiuyang's ear also sneered, mocking him. "In my youth, my arts were peerless, but my heart was truly ruthless. I stopped at nothing to ascend and become an immortal. Jiuyang, act now! Knock the Soul-Guiding Bell from his hand. That will force him to seal the Drought Ghost inside his own body. You'll live, and the Drought Ghost's calamity will be averted!"
Cui Jiuyang felt as though everything had receded into the distance. Only the voices of the two Great-Grandfathers circled inside his head.
The young Great-Grandfather spoke again. "He's attached to you now, trapped by the Locust-Tree Belt with no way to escape. Tap yourself three times, and that corpse will be gravely wounded, unable to harm you again!"
The old Great-Grandfather also said, "He's guiding the Drought Ghost right now and can't free his hands. Hurry and knock away his Soul-Guiding Bell! Then he'll have no choice but to seal the ghost inside himself! You'll survive!"
Their voices clashed in a chaotic din, leaving Cui Jiuyang unbearably agitated.
Finally, both Cui Chengshous spoke in unison. "Do it now!"
Cui Jiuyang was as frantic as someone with a firecracker dangling from his eyebrows, no longer knowing whether to close his eyes first or pull off the firecracker.
He pointed the Ghost-Driving Mallet viciously at the young Cui Chengshou before him. "Don't move! And you beside my ear-shut up!"
At that moment, countless tangled threads churned in Cui Jiuyang's heart. Life, death, calamity, success, failure-all those jumbled thoughts made calm reflection impossible.
To put it plainly, how could an upright young man of the new society, raised in peace and prosperity, possibly make sense of everything before him?
A world of bizarre wonders, with gods and ghosts made manifest.
All the inexplicable unease, frustration, and anger of the past few days surged into his heart.
Cui Jiuyang struck the crown of his own head with the drum mallet.
Delight appeared on the young Cui Chengshou's face.
The elderly Cui Chengshou beside his ear let out an agonized scream.
"Good, good, good! A true son of the Cui Family! With such resolve, you're worthy to inherit my mantle! Once you've cultivated The Eight Extremes, you'll naturally understand the Three Corpses Severing Method. Your Great-Grandfather isn't deceiving you!"
"Jiuyang, good boy, don't believe his honeyed lies! The Drought Ghost is right behind him. Let him take another three steps forward, and your life will be lost!"
Cui Jiuyang looked at the young Great-Grandfather and the Drought Ghost before him. At last, he raised the Ghost-Driving Mallet and struck himself twice more.
As a scream rang out beside his ear, all the strength seemed to drain from Cui Jiuyang's body, and he collapsed to the ground.
The young Cui Chengshou smiled, walked over, and pulled open the exhausted Cui Jiuyang's shirt, baring his chest.
First, he hung the Soul-Guiding Bell at the Drought Ghost's waist. Then he took out the uneaten chicken head left over from the night before, dipped it in Black Dog Blood, and said gently, "This will hurt a little. Don't be afraid."
Dipping the chicken's pointed beak in Black Dog Blood, he drew a complete Sealing Talisman on Cui Jiuyang's chest, then guided the Drought Ghost before him.
"Five Elements Soul-Sealing, Eight Trigrams Form-Subduing! Let barren earth regain its moisture, let calamity be forever quelled. By the eight extremes fate-seal!"
The crimson light in the Drought Ghost's eye sockets dimmed until it was barely visible. Its towering body slowly shrank, the scarlet coloring faded, and its form gradually began entering the Sealing Talisman on Cui Jiuyang's chest.
At that very moment, Cui Jiuyang, limp and supposedly unable to move, picked up the fallen Ghost-Driving Mallet beside him and struck the Soul-Guiding Bell hanging at the Drought Ghost's waist with all his might!
Ding...
A clear note rang out.
The flames in the Drought Ghost's eye sockets erupted, and its body returned to twice a man's height. Yet well over half its sinister ghostly energy had already been sealed inside Cui Jiuyang.
The sealing backlash struck Cui Chengshou. Several streams of white killing intent burst from his seven orifices like bolts of white silk piercing the air.
"You...!" The young Great-Grandfather staggered back several steps.
"Jiuyang, good boy. Well done." The wisp of divine soul inside Cui Jiuyang had gained more than half the Drought Ghost's power and was slowly awakening.
In the end, Cui Jiuyang had never fully trusted the young Great-Grandfather.
Because he had denied the first heavy fog all along.
Before you continue