The Daoist

Lü Xiucai’s words snapped Lü Zhuangyuan back to attention. “Gong sounds? Is it a happy occasion or a funeral? Hurry, let’s go!”

Men in their line of work knew the sound of a gong all too well.

Following the village path, the Lü Family Troupe rushed in the direction of the sound. The faint gonging grew louder.

When he saw the noise was coming from a large, high-walled compound, Lü Zhuangyuan could barely hide the grin spreading across his face.

But the moment he pushed through the crowd and saw what was happening inside, his smile fell.

Inside the courtyard, a Daoist priest in a yellow robe and a black Daoist crown—with a single, unbroken eyebrow—was conducting a ritual at an altar.

He was holding a bronze gong, circling a man lying on a wooden board, banging it with force.

With each clang, the man, whose face was as pale as paper, trembled uncontrollably, as if something inside him was trying to claw its way out.

“Dad, let’s go. The priest is catching ghosts and exorcising demons. There’s nothing for us here.” Lü Juren turned to leave, but his father grabbed his arm.

“Wait. Let’s watch a bit longer. If that man doesn’t make it, then it’s our business.”

Standing right next to Lü Zhuangyuan, Lü Xiucai had just pushed his way in. He was staring at the Daoist in shock—more specifically, at the sword of copper coins strapped to the man’s back.

“That’s weird. That copper-coin sword on his back is a dead ringer for my master’s sword…” This muttered comment was overheard by Gouwa, who was right behind him.

“Hah!” The man on the wooden board suddenly shot upright, springing a full three feet into the air.

Screams and wails erupted. The crowd of onlookers stumbled backward.

“Wretch! In the presence of this Celestial Master, you dare to harm the innocent?!”

The Daoist hurled his bronze gong, striking the man hard in the stomach, forcing him to double over.

“The Great Platform’s Stellar Lord, responding without ceasing. Drive out evil, bind the unclean, preserve life, protect the body. Wisdom, clarity, brightness, and purity—mind and spirit, be at peace. The three souls eternal, the seven corporeal spirits without loss!”

The Daoist grabbed a fistful of rice from the altar, passed it over the flame of a red candle, and then threw it directly at the man.

“Aaaagh!” Where the rice struck him, black vapor erupted from the man’s body.

A cloud of black smoke crawled out from his mouth. As the sunlight hit it, it slowly dissipated. The man went limp and collapsed onto the ground.

A wealthy-looking man in silk rushed over. When he saw the man wasn’t dead and was calling him “Dad,” he broke down in tears and, along with his household servants, knelt on the ground, kowtowing to the Daoist.

“A true miracle! A living immortal! Brought back to life in an instant!”

“Yes, yes! If it weren’t for this exalted master, the Zhang family’s only son would have lost his life here!”

Hearing the excited murmurs all around him, Lü Xiucai sneered. “What’s the big deal? If my master were here…”

No matter what Lü Xiucai said, everyone around him—including Lü Zhuangyuan—was distracted by the news that the Zhang family was hosting a celebratory feast that evening.

“You see that? Free food! If he pulls through, there’s a show for us too!” Lü Zhuangyuan walked toward the ecstatic family patriarch.

After a few pleasant words, he easily convinced the Zhang squire to hire the Lü Family Troupe for a performance.

After a rushed meal, the Lü Family Troupe sprang into action. They had to set up the stage and put on their opera makeup, so time was tight.

That night, Lü Zhuangyuan, along with his apprentice and sons, performed with everything they had. The host and the guests were all pleased.

When night fell and the well-fed, well-watered guests drifted away in twos and threes, Lü Xiucai stared at the Daoist priest seated at the head table. There was hesitation in his face.

“Are you sure? Is that sword exactly the one Brother Li had on his back?” Gouwa urged him from the side in a low voice.

“Probably… it’s too far away. I can’t be sure. I’d need to touch it to know for certain.”

Gouwa nearly choked on his own frustration. “Can you be a little more reliable?”

“Then why don’t we just go ask him directly? If he has my master’s sword, maybe he knows where the master is.”

“And how do we ask? What if he took the sword from Brother Li by force? What if he and Brother Li have a grudge?”

While the two of them were arguing, they saw the Daoist whisper something to the head of the household. With a grave expression, the Daoist led the man toward the back courtyard.

“He’s leaving! Quick, follow him!” Without hesitation, Lü Xiucai ducked down beside a table leg and crept after them.

As soon as they left the outer courtyard and entered the inner compound, the surroundings fell silent. The voices of the Daoist and the family head drifted into Lü Xiucai’s ears.

“Celestial Master, are you saying there are still evil spirits in my house?”

“Mmm, that’s right. Your son’s possession is connected to this evil spirit. If this spirit is not eliminated, your family will never know a day of peace.”

“Th-then what can we do?!”

“Don’t panic. This Celestial Master is here. That evil spirit should be attached to some object. Once I find that object, everything will be resolved!”

The yellow-robed Daoist turned his hand over, and an old bronze compass appeared in his palm. Pinching his fingers in a hand seal, he stared at the compass and began to search.

A hand landed on Lü Xiucai’s shoulder as he hid behind the rockery. It startled him so badly he nearly jumped.

When he turned and saw it was Gouwa, he glared at him fiercely.

Gouwa ignored him and pointed at the new commotion in the distance.

“Squire Zhang, be careful! This object is the vessel for the evil spirit!”

“Celestial Master? Th-this… this can’t be! This is my Zhang family’s heirloom!”

Gouwa stared into the brightly lit room. He saw that on the table in front of the Celestial Master sat an inverted clay bodhisattva whose facial features had melted away.

“Squire Zhang, look out!” A wisp of black smoke suddenly fell from the ceiling beam, landing directly on the squire.

The squire collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

As Gouwa and Lü Xiucai watched in stunned silence, the black smoke quickly poured into a long black gown inside the room.

A moment later, the black gown—which had neither feet nor head—wobbled to its feet.

The Daoist swept out his hand, deftly tucking the inverted clay bodhisattva into his sleeve, and began to sternly berate the black gown.

“That Daoist is raising the evil spirit!!” Lü Xiucai, utterly shocked, pressed his mouth to Gouwa’s ear and whispered.

Gouwa jerked his chin toward the direction they came from. Slowly, the two of them slipped away from the silent courtyard.

“What did you say? There are other people in the courtyard! Why are you only telling me this now?!”

Hearing the Daoist’s low shout from behind them, the two fleeing men felt their scalps go numb.

Just as they had taken a few steps to run, the black gown dropped from the sky and landed directly in front of them, blocking their path.

Gouwa pulled out the rotten-wood ruyi and swung it hard at the gown. When he saw the gown fall to the ground after being struck, he grabbed Lü Xiucai and dashed desperately toward the exit.

“Hahaha! It’s the tongue of a Heart-Element! Two joyous events in one day!”