The Method

1,221 words

Not long after leaving the inn, Li Huowang once again arrived at the residence of Pì County’s highest authority. The yamen gate was flanked by two stone lions and a large drum.

This time, he had no intention of sneaking in. He walked openly up to the entrance and had the guards announce him to the magistrate.

Had anyone else tried this, they would likely have been thrown out as a nuisance.

But when Li Huowang, his back carrying two longswords, his face hidden behind a copper coin mask, and his body clad in a red Daoist robe, stated plainly that he could resolve the entire county’s “Retracted Yang and Retracted Yin” affliction, he was immediately ushered in with respect.

Yang Hongzhi, the magistrate of Pì County, picked up his celadon teacup. Using the lid, he pushed aside the floating leaves, took a cautious sip, and used the pause to re-evaluate the strange man before him. The fellow’s bizarre attire made it impossible to guess his origins.

From what Arrestor Luo had gathered, this man had arrived in Pì County with a troupe performing spring operas, and based on their direction of travel, had likely come from Qingqiu.

The crucial point, however, was that this man claimed he could resolve the “Retracted Yang.” This was the affliction that had tormented him for so long.

His own son was still suffering. Even if there was only a sliver of a chance, he had to try.

While Yang Hongzhi studied Li Huowang, Li Huowang was reading the magistrate’s expressions just as carefully.

After analyzing the meaning behind every twitch of the man’s face, Li Huowang had a plan. He knew his next move.

“Magistrate Yang. Spit it out. What’s going on here? The Ministry is busy, I don’t have time to waste,” Li Huowang said, breaking the awkward silence first.

To quickly understand the details of the evil spirit causing the “Retracted Yang,” and to gain the full cooperation of the Pì County yamen, anything else would be a waste of time and likely useless. So Li Huowang decided to directly impersonate the Supervisory Heavenly Office.

In this situation, a county magistrate facing such a massive problem would have absolutely notified the Supervisory Heavenly Office. Since the problem persisted, it meant either the Office hadn’t arrived or they had come but failed to solve it. He could just exploit that gap to achieve his own goals.

The moment he heard Li Huowang mention “the Ministry,” Magistrate Yang was so startled he burned his tongue with the tea. He fumbled to put the cup down, clasped his hands together, and bowed to Li Huowang with trembling excitement.

“Thank the heavens! The Ministry of Rites has finally sent you! Ah, I’ve been waiting to my wit’s end! I’ve sent at least a hundred carrier pigeons! Every time I was told to stabilize the people and wait for good news. I couldn’t even stabilize my own heart, so how could I stabilize the people’s!”

Seeing Yang Hongzhi pouring out his grievances, Li Huowang’s tension eased slightly. The man had bought it. He set aside the other story he had prepared.

“Alright, Magistrate Yang. No time for small talk. Tell me the whole story from beginning to end. How did this ‘Retracted Yang’ start, and when?”

Compared to the innkeeper, the magistrate would surely know more. To deal with the invisible, untouchable ghost that had set its sights on him, he needed to know everything.

“Ah! It all started on Ghost Festival this year. At the Dead Man’s Slope, five li east of the county, there was a night watchman who—”

Suddenly, Magistrate Luo remembered something. He stopped mid-sentence, his face twisting with fear.

“Go on. What happened?” Li Huowang leaned forward slightly, pressing him.

Faced with Li Huowang’s demand, the magistrate began to change the subject. With a conflicted expression, he bowed again to Li Huowang.

“Master, you must save the people of Pì County! This is a matter of life and death for everyone!”

Li Huowang was about to ask again but stopped. He understood the man’s hesitation. It was the same fear as the dead innkeeper.

“You’re afraid that if you speak, the ghost will come after you? Don’t worry. Speak boldly. Now that I’m here, I’ll handle it properly.”

Unexpectedly, upon hearing this, Magistrate Yang didn’t show joy but instead leaped back as if fleeing from a plague. He quickly retreated from Li Huowang’s side.

Moments later, he returned with several green-clad constables, each carrying a small bronze gong with a red cloth bundle tied to the back.

They surrounded Li Huowang and began beating the gongs incessantly, chanting under their breath. “Offend not the spirit, the servant means no harm! Offend not the spirit, the servant means no harm!”

Li Huowang watched their ridiculous display with a very strange expression. “What are you doing? Is this your method for dealing with the invisible ghost?”

Upon hearing this, Magistrate Yang nodded vigorously.

It was then that Li Huowang noticed each of them was holding a large iron clamp, firmly pinching their own middle fingers until they were black and blue, yet they refused to let go.

One of the constables, sweating profusely from banging his gong, turned to Li Huowang and said urgently, “Quickly! That thing has already marked you! If you don’t want to be retracted to death, do as we do! We’re all in the same boat, would I harm you?”

These words made Li Huowang’s body stiffen. He reached out, took the gong, and began to walk in a circle, banging it as well.

For some reason, the whole series of events in Pì County gave him an odd sense of familiarity. A familiar, yet revolting, feeling.

As he was thinking, the others around him began a new action.

They hung the red rope around their necks, letting it dangle on their backs like turtles, and then dropped to all fours, crawling around the table.

The scene was bizarre and absurd. More importantly, the others were shooting him urgent looks, silently urging him to follow suit.

Is this really effective? Where the hell did they get the idea this would work on a ghost that steals… that?

Just as Li Huowang was about to hang the gong around his own neck, the others suddenly spread their legs as if a dog was marking its territory.

They weren’t urinating. They pulled down their pants, grabbed a handful of red chili powder from behind the gong, and slapped it onto their crotches.

Even though they winced from the sting, none of them dared to slack off. They continued crawling on the ground with the gongs on their backs, scattering the powder as they went.

“Master! Hurry! Do as I do! If you don’t, you won’t live much longer!”

Watching the absurd, farcical scene before him, a frowning Li Huowang walked over. He slowly crouched down and scooped up a handful of chili powder.

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened his fingers, watching the bright red powder trickle from his palm to the ground.

“Why do I feel like this is a bit too fake?” he muttered to himself. “The world may be insane, but this is just too ridiculous. It’s like… it’s a fucking joke.”

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Reading Guide Decoding

Impersonating an Agent in a Town of Absurdist Terror

Cultural / Xianxia Notes

The Supervisory Heavenly Office (监天司): This is not a generic “heavenly court.” In a novel that systemically corrupts Chinese bureaucratic institutions, the Supervisory Heavenly Office functions as a secret police / supernatural affairs bureau under the Ministry of Rites. Li Huowang’s bluff works because it taps into a real fear of authority in this world—just as a town might fear a plague, they fear the Office’s investigation. Impersonating one is a high-risk, high-reward gambit.

The Bizarre Folk Ritual: The gong-beating, finger-clamping, and chili-powder sprinkling described here is deliberately not authentic Daoist liturgy. It reads like a desperate, self-devised folk invention—a classic example of “folk counter-magic” that arises when a community has no real exorcist and must rely on common-sense (and often painful) remedies. The chili powder to the nether regions is a raw, visceral attempt to “scare off” a ghost that targets the groin with something equally shocking. Its amateurishness is the point: it’s what terrified, untrained people would do when left with no other solution. Li Huowang’s disgust and suspicion come from recognizing that this “system” looks too much like a game designed to waste time—or to keep someone occupied while the real threat creeps closer.

The “Retracted Yang” Motif: The affliction—a folk name for a perceived shrinking of the genitals—is a real (though rare) culture-bound syndrome known in parts of Asia (also called Koro). In the Dao-Twisted World, it’s literalized into an attack by an invisible ghost. The horror here is not just the physical threat, but the emasculating shame of it. The ritual’s focus on the crotch is a panicked, humiliating defense against a hyper-specific fear.

Chapter Overview

Li Huowang goes straight to the top. Impersonating an agent of the Supervisory Heavenly Office, he gains an audience with Magistrate Yang Hongzhi, hoping to gather intel on the invisible ghost that causes the horrifying “Retracted Yang” affliction. The magistrate is desperate and almost spills the beans, but stops dead, struck by a paralyzing fear. Before Li Huowang can pry more out of him, the yamen staff erupts into a frantic, absurdist folk ritual—beating bronze gongs, pinching their fingers black, and crawling on the floor to sprinkle chili powder on their own crotches. The sheer ridiculousness of it triggers a sharp pang of suspicion in Li Huowang. This pattern feels too familiar, too staged, almost like a bad joke. Is the town’s terror real, or has he stumbled into another elaborate trap?

Key Plot Points

Li Huowang decides to openly enter the county yamen and impersonate a member of the Supervisory Heavenly Office (监天司), a gamble that pays off when the desperate magistrate immediately believes him.
Magistrate Yang reveals the affliction began on Ghost Festival, but clams up the moment he tries to describe the trigger event at Dead Man’s Slope, terrified of supernatural retaliation.
In a bizarre turn, the magistrate and his constables perform a grotesque protective ritual: beating bronze gongs, clamping their own middle fingers, crawling on all fours, and rubbing chili powder on their genitals to protect against the invisible ghost.
Li Huowang is reluctantly drawn into the absurd ritual, but the sheer theatricality of it triggers a deep sense of suspicion. The amateur, almost farcical nature of the ‘solution’ feels painfully familiar.
The chapter ends with Li Huowang’s internal monologue concluding that this level of ridiculousness feels deliberately staged—a hallmark that something is being hidden behind the mask of superstition.

Reading Guide

Get ready for a chapter that feels like The Sorrow and the Pity meets The Holy Mountain—absurd, desperate, and crawling with suspicion. Li Huowang’s impersonation of a Monitory Bureau agent is a masterclass in street-smart pragmatism: he sees a power vacuum and fills it with a lie. But the real treat here is the tonal whiplash. After chapters of serious, flesh-rending horror, we’re suddenly dropped into a scene of grown men acting like terrified, chanting turtles, slapping chili on themselves while beating gongs. It’s deliberately funny, but the laughter dies in your throat because you know something is wrong.

Pay close attention to Li Huowang’s final thought: “It feels a bit too fake.” This is a man who has learned that in the Dao-Twisted World, the weirdest, most absurd occurrences are often the most dangerous traps. The question he’s asking is whether the town’s panic is real or whether someone—or something—is staging a performance just for him. The “familiar, revolting feeling” he mentions is a huge red flag. Could this be the work of the Zuowandao again? Or has the ghost itself learned to weaponize absurdity as camouflage?

This chapter is a masterful pivot from brute-force horror to psychological thriller. The threat isn’t a monster you can stab; it’s a system of fear so convincing that even the people running it believe their own farce. Follow Li Huowang’s gut: if it feels like a joke, find the punchline before it finds you.