Chapter Twenty-Five: Encountering the Rare Spell Among Spells

Page (1/3)
Chapter 25: The Fifth Kind

What is called a “curse” is, in fact, a kind of blessing. In ancient times, malicious incantations were used to exorcise ghosts, banish evil, and ward off misfortune. Today, what remains are mostly Taoist spells for driving away spirits and Buddhist chants for peace. Yet those who can truly harness the power of “curses” are now exceedingly rare. In the modern era, the Southern Seas’ black magic, the Miao region’s venomous arts, and the corpse-driving rituals of Xiangxi are the best-known examples of those who still practice such things.

To use incantations by borrowing the power of divine emissaries, especially for harm, inevitably invites retribution. Therefore, those who employ such methods are always extremely cautious, lest the curse rebound upon themselves.

The “Money Curse” is one such incantation, a technique commonly used in the Maoshan sect. The Nine-Chrysanthemum Sect is an offshoot that branched away from Maoshan in ancient times, and since Gangzi had been harmed by a member of the Nine-Chrysanthemum Sect, the sight of his current state immediately brought this particular curse to my mind. Now that I had confirmed it, the solution became all the clearer.

Incantations, in essence, rely on the power of divine emissaries, using a medium as a conduit—yellow talisman paper, bronze bells, peach-wood swords, and the like—to achieve their purpose. Fortunately, after spending considerable time with Gu Jing, I had learned much about Taoist arts. The “Money Curse” is a very common ancient technique—most Maoshan priests or itinerant Taoists know it. Using coins as the medium, it can drive away ghosts and demons or scatter a person’s soul. Within the context of Taoist magic, it’s not particularly formidable, but to ordinary people, it is a supernatural art of overwhelming power. As Taoism declined in recent times, those who still practice it have become scarce.

While the Nine-Chrysanthemum Sect’s use of this trick might seem impressive to others, it is nothing before Gu Jing, a true heir of the Maoshan lineage.

Once the coin-shaped mark was revealed, I picked up a surgical scalpel and traced a cut along the imprint. The Money Curse works by embedding a strange force into the victim; to save Gangzi, that force must first be expelled.

Shisanfei, watching my every move, pulled Xiaoqiu aside and asked in a whisper, “Who exactly is this Changfeng? Will anything go wrong?” Xiaoqiu merely smiled faintly and ignored her.

As the scalpel broke the skin, a thin layer of red blood welled up. Everyone held their breath, watching me in tense silence. Wang Tingting stood beside me as my assistant. She didn’t know me well, but since witnessing a colleague become possessed and seeing my abilities, she had grown intensely curious. She even used her connections to investigate my background, and was astonished to discover that I held credentials as an international police officer. Now, seeing me in action again, she wouldn’t miss the spectacle for anything.

Blood began to bead beside the mark but did not flow down. I gestured for Long Tao and Wang Tingting to prop Gangzi up in a half-sitting position, then grabbed a handful of saline solution and poured it without hesitation over the mark.

As the saltwater met the blood, a hissing sound rose, much like the scurrying of mice in the night. The others were unsettled by it, and even I felt a chill.

From a medical perspective, saline and blood should not react in any unusual way—at most, the blood would simply congeal. Yet the saline I poured out began to smoke, as if undergoing a chemical reaction with the blood, producing that sinister hiss.

I knew my method was having some effect, but not as much as I’d hoped. I grabbed another handful of saline, poured it onto the mark, and pressed my right palm firmly over it. I had hoped to intensify the effect, but a sudden surge of power shocked me to the core.

As my palm made contact with the mark, the smoke thickened. The coin-like mark seemed to respond violently—a force shot straight up into my palm.

This was supposed to be the only way to force out the power of the Money Curse and save Gangzi, but the force that erupted was bizarrely strong, far beyond what I’d anticipated. Only once it collided with my palm did I realize the spellcaster was no ordinary practitioner—he had set a trap to retaliate against anyone who tried to break his curse.

The force was like a burning coal, trying to bore through my palm. My hand felt as though I were gripping a red-hot iron, pain wracking my body and sweat pouring from my brow.

I knew that if I let go, I would be safe—but I could not withdraw, for who knew what would happen to Gangzi if I did? The Money Curse was never this fierce unless the spellcaster layered it with another spell—a curse within a curse, ensnaring those who dared to break it unawares. I was the unlucky one to fall into this trap. Fortunately, it was me—had it been someone else, the consequences might have been dire. I could only try to figure out what this second curse was as I went along.

Gangzi began to stir slightly; his eyelids fluttered as if regaining sensation, but the pain was evident—tears welled at the corners of his eyes.

Page (2/3)
Everyone, seeing the look on my face, realized something was wrong, but none knew how to help. Li Feng, witnessing such a scene for the first time, was astonished and deeply worried, yet he kept his composure—he was not an ordinary man.

Shisanfei was extremely concerned for Gangzi; their relationship was unclear, but her eyes had not left him since entering the room. Now, seeing my pallor, she cried out in alarm, “Brother Changfeng, why do you look so terrible? Oh no, Brother Gangzi seems to be in pain too! What’s happening to you?”

Xiaoqiu dragged her aside and scolded, “Quiet, don’t make trouble.”

Shisanfei, usually afraid of Xiaoqiu, fell silent at once, her eyes fixed anxiously on Gangzi and me. Suddenly, she exclaimed, “There’s smoke coming from Gangzi’s mouth—and out his nose, too!”

My right palm was nearly split by the force within, my teeth chattering from the pain as I struggled to contain it, pushing the energy back with all my might. Hearing Shisanfei’s outcry, I cursed inwardly; the very thing I’d hoped to avoid was happening—smoke was pouring from Gangzi’s mouth and nose, just like the Money Curse’s mark. This was Southern Seas corpse-poison.

“Open his mouth and stuff something in, quickly!” I shouted in alarm.

Xiaoqiu and Li Feng came to help, shoving a bedsheet into Gangzi’s mouth. But the cloth was too porous—wisps of vapor still escaped.

“Douse the sheet in saline!” I ordered, my right hand pressed firmly against the mark at the base of Gangzi’s neck, while my left pointed frantically at the basin.

After soaking the sheet in saline, they stuffed it back into Gangzi’s mouth. Still, smoke issued from his nose. Wang Tingting tried to plug his nostrils with the sheet, but Shisanfei protested, “Be gentle! You’ll break his nose!”

His nose could not be plugged forcefully, leaving Li Feng and Wang Tingting anxious and at a loss. Wang Tingting called out, “We can’t block his nose, Changfeng—think of something!”

Xiaoqiu, a close friend of Gangzi, was infuriated to see him in such a state. He cursed, “Damn it, what the hell did those Japanese bastards do to Gangzi?” Clearly, Xiaoqiu was truly enraged. It seemed Guangzhou was in for more trouble.

“Oh no—why is there cold air coming out of Gangzi’s nose?”

“Look, Changfeng—there’s ice forming on his lips!” Wang Tingting tugged anxiously at my sleeve.

One glance and I realized the severity—the wet sheet in Gangzi’s mouth was slowly freezing solid. If this continued, he was doomed. Once the sheet froze and blocked his mouth, and his nose iced over as well, no air would get in—he’d suffocate. This black magic was truly insidious, able to produce ice out of thin air.

But I couldn’t free my right hand—if I let go, the force might erupt with unknown consequences, and this force was far stronger than that of the original Money Curse. I had never encountered such a devious, layered curse before.

With no choice, I mustered all my internal strength, channeling it into my right hand. The burning sensation in my palm lessened, and I finally understood the value of inner power. As a child in Tibet, the lamas had forced me to learn, but I had always been indifferent, often slacking off because I found it dull compared to incantations or hand seals.

Now I regretted not studying harder—truly, you only regret when it’s too late.

With the burning in my palm eased, I found myself exhausted—though only a few minutes had passed, I felt as if I’d run several kilometers, sweat soaking my brow.

Yet Gangzi’s mouth and nostrils were already freezing over. I could not wait any longer—it was now or never.

Southern Seas black magic is notorious for its evil, but compared to Taoist arts, it is child’s play. The Nine-Chrysanthemum Sect, somehow entangled with those from the Southern Seas, had dared to use such wicked arts to harm others. My anger blazed.

Page (3/3)
I bit open my left index finger and smeared blood onto Gangzi’s nostrils. The blood melted the ice that was forming inside.

Next, I drew a Bagua diagram on the back of my right hand with my own blood. As soon as I finished, I began chanting the Vajrasattva heart mantra. With the mantra, the Bagua pattern on my palm seemed to sink into my skin. The burning sensation was replaced by a coolness, and I managed to suppress the force in my palm.

I formed a great Vajra Wheel mudra over the Money Curse mark, using it to suppress the malignant force. At last, I could remove my right hand. I took a breath, rubbed my palm—it was blackened, congested, as if scorched. Wang Tingting suddenly grabbed my hand to inspect it, her face filling with concern. “Are you okay?”

I shook my head slightly—of course I wasn’t. My palm felt as if it had been filled with molten lead. Still, it warmed me to see this usually mischievous girl show genuine concern.

I patted her on the shoulder and told her not to worry. Seeing my color improve, Xiaoqiu and the others crowded around. I checked Gangzi’s pulse—it was weak, but his heartbeat was still there. As I took his pulse, his heart suddenly raced; he might have been unconscious, but he was still aware.

The sheet stuffed in Gangzi’s mouth had frozen solid. If I hadn’t thawed his nose in time, he might have suffocated. The cloth was now as hard as a stick, impossible to pull out.

Though my right hand throbbed with pain, my greater worry was for Gangzi’s safety. The force beneath the mark was suppressed by my Vajra Wheel mudra, so I wasn’t concerned about it for now. The real question was how to heal Gangzi.

The Southern Seas’ black magic was truly vicious. Could it be that someone in the Nine-Chrysanthemum Sect hailed from the Southern Seas?

No time for further thought—I began softly chanting the Vajrasattva exorcism mantra, forming the Inner Lion Seal with both hands. With the seal in place, I gazed at Gangzi’s forehead, bit open my right thumb, and pressed a blood mark between his brows. The blood immediately seeped into his forehead.

The Inner Lion Seal is unique to the Lesser Esoteric School, the most mysterious branch of Tibetan Vajrayana Buddhism, famed for its great mudras. Yet the Lesser Esoteric School’s ultimate art is the most secretive of all—the Ninefold Seal. The Inner Lion Seal is one of those nine, its true meaning being the harnessing of the spirit of all things.

With the seal in place, the ice in Gangzi’s mouth began to melt.

No one dared speak; none of them had ever witnessed such a bizarre scene. Even Wang Tingting now looked at me as if seeing a stranger, sizing me up from head to toe.

Gangzi’s color gradually improved, but I felt no joy. Though I had suppressed the force for now, I did not know when it might resurface. For the moment, this was all I could do.

“Xiaoqiu, get Gangzi into the car immediately. We’re going to see Old Man Gu Jing—he’s the true expert in these matters.” I exhaled heavily; the only thing to do now was entrust Gangzi to Gu Jing.

Gu Jing’s reputation was clearly immense. No wonder he once boasted to me that nine out of ten key figures in Guangzhou had heard his name. I hadn’t believed it before, but seeing Xiaoqiu’s reaction now, I realized he hadn’t exaggerated.

Xiaoqiu, wide-eyed with surprise, asked, “Gu Jing? Old Master Gu?” The Hongmen’s business extended into real estate, with dealings across all the major developers. Guangzhou, as a key city open to the world, is a place where land is precious. Chinese people are more traditional than foreigners; when buying property, they place great importance on feng shui. Thus, developers always consult a feng shui master before building, and Gu Jing is the most sought-after expert in the industry. Securing his help is harder than getting a dinner with the mayor.

Naturally, Xiaoqiu knew this, but had never imagined that I would know Gu Jing, or dare to call him “the old man.” His expression was no surprise to me.

Li Feng and Long Tao could have opted out, but seeing Gangzi’s condition, they couldn’t refuse. So, the group piled into the car and sped off to Gu Jing’s residence.