The Spirit Mother’s Chains

The drawn-out spirit tone had barely faded when silence fell around them.

Then the Great Spirit began to chant the Bang Bing Jue. Unlike Li Zhi’s hawking, almost shouting style, hers came out urgent and rapid.

“Dong dong dong! The sun sets west, the sky turns black! House by house, doors are barred! Dong dong dong! Traveling men head for inns, birds to the woods, tigers back to their mountains—”

As the drumming continued, Bai Lingmiao’s body began to tremble, hiccupping. The red bridal veil on her head shook like water cascading over a fall.

Her body gradually hunched forward. Something that looked like the outline of a beast’s skull pushed against the red veil from the inside, bulging it outward.

“This disciple calls today upon the Spirit Child. Misfortune sits right in the middle of this room. To the south, physicians fail to cure. To the north, monks and nuns can’t break the spell. Left with no other recourse, the disciple begs the Old Immortal to lend a hand. Find the clash in Eight Characters and the fate-hour. Pierce through the Seven Orifices and Twelve Meridians. Sift through the Five Organs and Six Viscera. Trouble the Old Immortal to speak clearly.”

To the rhythmic beat of the drum, Bai Lingmiao began to walk into the room.

The moment she sensed someone approaching, fear flickered in the old woman’s eyes where they were mostly hidden behind her white hair.

Then, in the next second, that fear twisted into an extremity of hatred. “Give me back my son!!”

She lunged forward with both arms, but the chains caught her short. She hung there, frozen, straining taut.

A long, thin beast’s muzzle pushed up the red veil from Bai Lingmiao’s head, sniffing at the old woman again and again. Low, animalistic growls kept coming from beneath the cloth.

“My son~~!” The old woman’s expression shifted again from hatred to pleading. “Son, it was Mother’s fault. It was Mother’s fault!!”

Whatever was under the veil withdrew rapidly and began shaking again. A tail slithered out from beneath Bai Lingmiao’s robes. The rhythm of the drum outside changed once more into another spirit-song.

“A person’s soul returns to the person. A horse’s soul returns to the horse. A man with his true soul eats his fill. A horse with its true soul can gallop and play. An Eight-Immortal table is set on the ground. Star-and-banner pennants are fixed above. Five-colored flags, five-colored banners—five-colored flags of red, white, green, and blue!”

With the drum as her guide, Bai Lingmiao began to pace around the old woman in a measured, prescribed step. Little paper flags of yellow paper were stabbed into the dried straw on the floor.

The old woman suddenly went still. Her body crashed to the ground and began twitching violently, her expression full of agony.

Seeing this, Zhao Qin outside the door felt a pang of heartache. But in this situation, he didn’t dare interrupt.

Then the drumming quickened. Seven lit purple incense sticks appeared in Bai Lingmiao’s hands.

She turned the smoking tips downward and thrust them straight down the old woman’s throat.

“Hsss—” A wave of sharp intakes of breath rose from the onlookers outside. The escorts were all trained martial artists, men who wouldn’t blink at a broken bone or a common bruise. But seeing that sent a chill through even them.

“Urgh…” The old woman tried to vomit, but a red handkerchief was pressed over her face.

Just as everyone’s eyes were fixed on Bai Lingmiao, waiting to see what she would do next, a low voice cut in from the distance.

“Xiaoman!! Bai Lingmiao!” It was Li Huowang’s voice.

The drum faltered for a beat. The spirit-song shifted again.

“Before I leave, I send you three drumbeats. I send you to your ancient cave to cultivate immortality! I send you over one ridge, then another. I send you over one mountain, then another! Don’t let the Disciple’s Mount get stung. If you still won’t go, I’ll slap you! Dong dong dong!”

The three drumbeats ceased. The uncanny phenomena on Bai Lingmiao stopped at once.

Returning to normal, she had clearly heard Li Huowang’s voice. She quickly pulled the red veil from her own head and hurried out of the room.

She snatched the drum from the Great Spirit’s hands and covered the old woman’s head back up with the red veil. Then Bai Lingmiao quickly walked to meet Li Huowang, who was approaching with a large group of people.

“Senior Brother Li! You came down the mountain? Did everything go well?” she asked, a smile on her face.

In her careful way, she noticed that Senior Brother Li now had two swords on his back.

“Mm. Almost done. I heard you were here exorcising something? How’s it going? All finished?” Li Huowang said, pulling Bai Lingmiao to look past her at the group of people in the distance.

“No, it’s not done yet. I thought she might have hit something else, but there’s nothing. I tried several methods, but I still can’t figure out what’s wrong with her.”

By the time they got back to the side of the room, Zhao Qin was carefully helping his wife back up.

He called out to her softly a few times. There was no response. Worry surged into Zhao Qin’s eyes as he looked sharply at Bai Lingmiao.

“Girl, what is wrong with my wife?!”

There was clear anger in his voice. It was natural enough, though—seeing his wife treated this way with no change from before, who wouldn’t be angry?

Li Huowang sized up the dazed, dull look on the old woman’s face. A trace of weariness showed on his own as he said to Bai Lingmiao, “Let’s go. If you can’t cure her, don’t bother. It’s not like we’re hurting for that fifty coppers.”

“Wait!!”

The word exploded from Zhao Qin’s mouth, and the entire escort agency began to close in, their eyes hostile.

Li Huowang watched the scene coldly, one hand slowly reaching for the hilt of the sword at his back.

Clang.

The sword cleared the scabbard by an inch. Around him, everyone felt their blood surging as if they were standing in the middle of a battlefield.

Wang Chengxing’s face went pale from the strange sensation. He knew they were in big trouble.

Having traveled far and wide, he had heard stories of certain masters with mysterious powers. Such people were hard to tell good from evil, and you had to be completely on your guard if you met one. It looked like they had run into the real deal now.

“Senior Brother Li! Don’t be like that… It’s us who were wrong…” Bai Lingmiao quickly tugged at Li Huowang’s sleeve.

The blade slid back into the sheath. Li Huowang turned coldly to leave.

“Son… Mother has failed you…”

That voice made Li Huowang stop in his tracks. He looked back at the old woman.

There was something about her state that felt… familiar.

When he saw her hands, the flesh rubbed bloody by the iron chains, a nameless fire rose in his heart.

The old woman’s expression changed again. She lunged, both hands closing around Zhao Qin’s throat. “Give me back my son! Give me back my son!!”

Li Huowang grabbed Yang Xiaohai and walked over.

“I will. I’ll give you back your son!” He shoved Zhao Qin aside and pushed the bewildered Yang Xiaohai into the old woman’s arms.

The moment she held Yang Xiaohai, the old woman went still. She pressed her face against him and began to stroke her hand over and over through his hair.

Li Huowang swept his eyes around the room, his voice carrying a note of reproach. “Why isn’t there even a window? She’s in here alone, in the dark—doesn’t she get scared?”

Zhao Qin was momentarily stunned. Everything had happened too fast.

“My wife is already like this. What would she be afraid of the dark for?”

Li Huowang drew the other longsword and, with an effortless cut, snapped the chains binding the old woman’s hands.

“Even if she’s gone mad, that doesn’t mean she can’t feel anything!! She gets scared too! She hurts too! When there’s no one with her, she feels lonely!”

“Do you think she chose to become like this? She didn’t! But she simply can’t help it!”