The Five-Bodied Man

1,070 words

As Bai Lingmiao clutched her drum, trying to calm her racing heart, the Second Spirit had already soundlessly materialized behind her. The veiled figure stared at the bolted wooden door in the distance.

"I know I can't rely on Senior Brother Li for everything. I didn't plan to," Bai Lingmiao muttered under her breath. "Don't say it again."

The Second Spirit's sharp nails grazed her neck. "You know that's not true. And he has everything to do with it."

Bai Lingmiao's face paled, but she said nothing more.

The silence of the main hall was unsettling, so she grasped for conversation. "What happens if I don't do what the immortals ask? It's not that I don't want to help, but sometimes... I might not have the time."

The voice in her head responded, and her expression soured further. "I see... Is there a way around—"

BAM!

A violent crash against the door made her jump. The wood splintered, revealing a crack. Through it, she saw a pair of wide, lifeless eyes.

"They're here!" Bai Lingmiao shoved her drum into the Second Spirit's hands and pulled the red bridal veil over her own head. Her voice, now impossibly thin and high, pierced the dark night. "Summon~ing~the~spir~it~s~"

BAM!

The door crashed to the ground with a groan. An old woman in a red burial shroud stood on the threshold. Her hair was bone-white, her expression stiff, her eyes vacant. Blood smeared her mouth. Standing in the darkness like a zombie, she was a sight that curdled the blood.

BAM! The old woman's legs kicked together, clearing the doorstep with a jump. Her shoes were sewn together, and black cords bound her ankles, forcing her to move in stiff, bouncing hops.

Bai Lingmiao’s chant began, rapid and urgent—the Bang Bing Jue. The old woman showed no reaction, her unblinking eyes scanning the room. Finding nothing, her gaze locked onto Bai Lingmiao, and she began to hop closer.

Four incense sticks appeared in Bai Lingmiao's hand. With a sharp flick, their tips burst into flame, igniting without a spark. She swung them forward, the burning tips and trailing smoke striking the burial shroud. But they sizzled out on contact, as if hitting water.

The old woman lunged, her mouth snapping shut on Bai Lingmiao's hand. Her teeth broke the skin, but instead of flesh, they met a bed of black, hedgehog-like spines. The spikes burst outward, piercing straight through the old woman's chin.

Thump-thump-thump! Red Great Ancestor, dispatch your troops! Thump-thump-thump! First drum, the war-meal is made! Thump-thump-thump! Second drum, the battle-robes are donned! Thump-thump-thump! Third drum, the blades are drawn! Thump-thump-thump! Fourth drum, the armies clash!

As the drumbeat rang out, soft white fur began to sprout from Bai Lingmiao's sleeves and beneath her veil. A forked fox tail grew from under her skirt, splitting as it extended. The fur flowed like living things, snaking toward the old woman's seven orifices.

The old woman struggled, but she had no chance to fight back. Her movements grew weaker, weaker. Suddenly, her body went limp. A mass of black, shadowy something slid out from under her burial shroud and, taking advantage of the darkness, vanished through the doorway.

Thump-thump-thump! If you must go, I won't bar your way. The tyrant is at the trough, leading the horse. First the reins, then the saddle, the old immortal cracks the whip and returns to the mountain! Thump-thump-thump!

Bai Lingmiao pulled off the red veil, her body returning to normal. She let out a sigh of relief, then broke into an excited smile. This was her first time handling something like this alone—and she had succeeded.

Her confidence swelled. Now, when Senior Brother Li ran into trouble, she could be of real help. One heart, one mind. She couldn't complain about his problems; all she could do was lend a hand when he needed her.

"How do you get stronger at the spirit dance?" she asked. "I feel like I'm still a bit lacking."

"Hmm? Why do I have to learn the singing? You're the one who sings it... Oh, all right, I'll try."

She knelt beside the motionless old woman, carefully straightening her disheveled burial shroud. "Looks like I was right. Something was possessing her corpse. It ran off too fast for me to see what it was."

After tidying up, she went to the back courtyard to call the father and son out. Collecting her payment of fifty coppers, she hurried back.

But as she stepped outside, a dark figure made her jump. "Who's there!"

The figure stepped forward, took her hand, and led her toward their lodgings. "Next time, let me know beforehand. I'll come with you."

Realizing Li Huowang had been waiting outside the entire time because he was worried about her, Bai Lingmiao's heart filled with sweetness. A little embarrassed, she leaned in. "Mmm..."

They walked in silence along the muddy village path, neither speaking, content in the quiet.

The quiet was soon broken. An old woman tottered toward them, her back bent, a basket hooked over her arm and a bamboo cane in her hand. The cane tapped tap-tap-tap on the ground, clearing her path. She was blind.

Hearing their footsteps, the blind woman stopped, turning an ear toward them. "Young'uns, do you know where Qian Niusheng's house is? They've got a possession over there. I've come to drive it out."

"Oh? Auntie, you're too late. The evil's already gone."

"Wh—?! Are you mocking a blind woman?!"

The blind woman planted her hands on her hips and let loose a torrent of filth, cursing every ancestor of Qian Niusheng's for eighteen generations. The nearby dogs joined in with barking.

Watching this fierce old woman, Li Huowang found himself curious. "At your age, you still come to exorcise? May I ask your name? Which sect are you from?"

Her fury vanished instantly. "My surname is Cui. Call me Immortal Auntie Cui. You folks need something? Need my help?"

As she spoke, her expression flickered with confusion. She tucked her bamboo cane under her arm and fumbled toward Li Huowang. He tried to step aside, but she followed, pressing her bony, talon-like hands right onto his face.

"You... what terrible karma did you rack up in a past life? How bizarre!"

"Other folks, they're either short on water or fire. The unluckiest are missing two elements. But you, young man, you're missing all five!"

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Reading Guide Decoding

Bai Lingmiao Goes Solo and a Blind Woman Drops a Diagnosis That Breaks the World

Cultural / Xianxia Notes

The Bang Bing Jue (帮兵决): This is the traditional summoning verse of the Chuma (出马) spirit-medium tradition in Northeast China. It's not just noise—the rhythm is sharp and military, designed to call down "immortal soldiers." The drum isn't accompaniment; it's a tactic.
Possessed corpses with bound ankles: In some Chinese folk traditions, corpses that are "walking" due to possession or incomplete burial are described as hopping because their feet are bound or their ankles are tied. It's a visual shorthand for "this is a body being puppeted, not a person walking."
The Seven Orifices (七窍): The eyes, ears, nostrils, and mouth. A common route for invading spirits or corrupting energies. The fox fur's attack here is textbook spiritual combat—block the orifices, starve the possessor.
The Five Phases (五行): The foundation of Chinese cosmological science. Wood, Fire, Earth, Metal, Water. Every person has a natal imbalance, but missing all five is an ontological impossibility. It means Li Huowang isn't just unlucky—he's a hole in reality.

Chuma (出马)

A spirit-medium tradition from Northeast China in which a human serves as a "mount" for animal or spirit patrons; the body is lent to entities for rituals, exorcisms, and healing.

Chapter Overview

Bai Lingmiao goes solo, and she nails it. Our girl has her first real exorcism—a possessed corpse in a burial shroud—and handles it with a mix of ritual precision and the kind of raw nerve that makes you sit up and cheer. No Li Huowang to hide behind, just her, a drum, and a Second Spirit who gives terrible relationship advice. But while Bai Lingmiao's star is rising, the chapter's real gut-punch comes from a blind exorcist on the road. One touch to Li Huowang's face, and she drops a diagnosis that hits harder than any curse: this man is missing all Five Phases. Buckle up, folks—the cosmology just got personal.

Key Plot Points

Bai Lingmiao confronts the Second Spirit's quiet accusation: her entire identity is tied to Li Huowang. She doesn't argue it; she just stings and carries on.
A door is smashed in. A corpse in a red burial shroud enters with stiff, hopping steps—her shoes are sewn together, her ankles bound. Classic jumping-corpse logic.
Bai Lingmiao's ritual is precise: Bang Bing Jue, self-igniting incense that fizzles on contact, a hedgehog-defense that pierces the corpse's chin, and fox fur that invades its seven orifices. The possessing shadow flees.
Her victory is real, and her confidence is earned. She asks the Second Spirit how to improve and agrees to learn the vocal chants—a small but significant commitment.
An old blind woman on the road is furious to learn the exorcism is already done. She spits curses that could strip paint.
Li Huowang asks about her background. She approaches, touches his face, and reveals a diagnosis that reframes everything: he is missing all Five Phases. Not just one. Not two. All five.

Reading Guide

Watch Bai Lingmiao here. This isn't just a side character moment. She moves from passive follower to active practitioner, and the narrative respects her growth. She's scared, but she performs. She's proud, but she asks for help.
The blind exorcist's diagnosis isn't just a cool line. In the Five Phases system, saying someone "lacks all five" is the equivalent of saying they don't exist in the natural order. It's a violation of the world's grammar.
The chapter's pacing is deceptive. It starts with solo exorcism (a win), then ends with a quiet, devastating piece of worldbuilding. The horror isn't in the dark—it's in a blind woman's casual observation.

Deeper Dive: The Five Phases (五行) and Why "Missing All Five" Is a Novelty

The Five Phases aren't just "elements." They're a dynamic system of mutual generation and control—Wood feeds Fire, Fire creates Earth (ash), Earth bears Metal, Metal collects Water, Water nourishes Wood. Every person, place, and object has a Phase constitution. A fortune teller might say you're "Wood-heavy" or "Fire-deficient." That's normal. But "missing all five"? That's not a deficiency; it's a null set. It suggests Li Huowang's fundamental nature is outside the cosmic framework of the Dao-Twisted World. He's a glitch. A piece of data that shouldn't exist. And in a world where belief shapes reality, being an impossibility is both a vulnerability and a terrifying advantage.