The Young Girl's Chronicles of Demon-Slaying

Chapter 34: Refinement

Consecrating the Ghost Altar was an extremely time-consuming process that required strict adherence to procedure and carried certain risks. Even though Wang Yiting was eager to seek revenge, he dared not take any shortcuts; he had no choice but to follow the steps, consecrating it one step at a time. The incense altar was set up, and the Ghost Altar was placed before the statue of the Ghost Mother. Wang Yiting sat cross-legged and suddenly chanted aloud: “Heaven grows dark, earth grows dim; the sun and moon lose their light. Wrathful ghosts and fierce spirits, where is your home? Within this altar lies your refuge; a hundred grievances become one sorrow; vengeance begets vengeance; a blood-soaked grudge runs deep!” Upon finishing, his voice dropped to a low murmur, barely audible, as if he were speaking in his sleep. After a moment, as he continued his incantation, he raised his right hand, placed his middle finger to his lips, and bit it until a drop of dark red vital blood was forced out, falling onto the yellow clay sealing the Ghost Altar. The dark red blood was swiftly absorbed and seeped into the yellow clay the moment it touched it, vanishing without a trace. After three such drops, Wang Yiting withdrew his hand, formed a seal with both hands, and continued reciting the incantation, which sounded like the buzzing of a mosquito. Lured by the three drops of heart’s blood, the Ghost Altar immediately began to stir. The entire altar was enveloped in a black mist seeping continuously from its surface, which gradually gathered and swirled toward the ceiling above. Within the black mist, the face of a man—at times ferocious, at times contorted with pain—floated and struggled, as if he were drowning. As the black mist grew denser, the spirit altar began to shake violently. The seal of yellow mud mixed with dog’s blood swelled like a balloon being inflated, and the entire altar emitted a faint rustling sound as it gradually expanded, as if something inside were growing larger and trying to burst out. Just as the yellow mud swelled like a distended belly, the red ropes coiled around the Ghost Altar and the talismans affixed to its mouth finally took effect. They emitted a blood-red glow, once again subduing the altar and the mud seal and compressing them, restoring the Ghost Altar to its original state. Only the yellow mud continued to seep ceaselessly from around the altar, pooling on the ceiling above and lingering there for a long time. Wang Yiting understood the nature of these phenomena and, naturally, felt no fear. He kept his eyes slightly closed as he continued to chant the incantation. The malevolent spirit sealed within the Ghost Altar was, in fact, like a person who had gone without food for days and was on the verge of starvation; of course, this was merely a metaphor. The spirit sealed within the Ghost Altar had not merely gone hungry for a few days—it had been starved ever since the day it was sealed, surviving only by drawing on Yin energy. This yin energy is essentially like pickled radish, while vital essence is like a fragrant, grilled meat chop. One can eat the former every day for over thirty years and still stay full—one won’t starve to death. But the latter’s deliciousness would drive anyone tasting it for the first time into a frenzy. Of course, even if a human were to eat meat for the very first time, they wouldn’t actually go mad—but ghosts are different. They are, by their very nature, a conglomeration of various desires and resentments. Furthermore, human essence, blood, and vital energy are, to them, potent tonics—supreme elixirs. Once they’ve tasted them even once, they naturally would never want to survive on yin energy alone again; it’s only natural that they would go mad as a result. Furthermore, the ghost altar serves as a shackle for the vengeful spirit. Previously, it was sustained by a limited supply of yin energy and lacked the strength to break the seal. But now, having absorbed the essence and blood and gained a brief surge of power, it naturally seeks to shatter these shackles and gain its freedom. With these two desires compounding, the fierce ghost’s resistance within the altar grew increasingly violent. Fortunately, the three talismans at the altar’s opening and the red ropes soaked in dog’s blood wrapped around its body were powerful enough to keep the fierce ghost firmly pinned inside, unable to break free. Even so, the entire altar continued to vibrate incessantly, much like a massager. Wang Yiting remained confident in the seal on the ghost altar and wasn’t particularly worried. From here on out, he would have to treat it like training a hawk: feeding it a single drop of essence blood every day, keeping it on a tight leash while constantly chanting incantations to torment it. Simply put, it was a case of offering a date only to follow it with a blow from a stick. In the end, it would come down to a test of endurance—who could outlast whom. Failure would naturally mean his death and the dissolution of his Dao; success would grant him a ghost servant far more powerful than the Ghost Infant he’d had before. This was a grueling process. By his estimate, it would take at least one or two months—and that was just to get the vengeful spirit to follow simple orders. If he wanted to control it as freely as he had the ghost infant before, it would be virtually impossible without two or three years. However, in his view, even simple control over the fierce ghost would be sufficient for revenge. By then, as long as he maximized the fierce ghost’s ferocity and let it act on instinct, he should be able to exact his revenge. As for how to subdue the ferocious, rampaging vengeful spirit after taking his revenge, he had his own methods. As the days passed, aside from attending to his basic daily needs, Wang Yiting spent every day sitting cross-legged in his room, refining the malevolent spirit. This refinement method was simple in theory: essentially, he fed it a single drop of essence blood each day, followed by constant chanting of incantations to torment it. However, while this sounds simple and doesn’t look complicated, the process was actually extremely arduous. After all, vital blood, like vital energy, is one of the foundations of human life, and both can be restored and replenished through potent tonics such as ginseng. However, while vital energy is rather ethereal, vital blood is hidden within the bloodstream and is everywhere. Only cultivators like Wang Yiting can force it out of the body through rigorous practices; ordinary people cannot do this. Even if they bite through their middle finger, only ordinary blood will flow. Although both essence-blood and essence-qi can be restored by consuming tonics and cultivating the mind and body, this restoration takes time and involves a gradual process. It is impossible to recover immediately upon consumption; on the contrary, the process tends to be rather slow. Cultivators may recover somewhat faster, but the difference is actually not that significant. Once one loses vital blood, just as with the loss of vital energy, one becomes haggard, prone to fatigue, and experiences dizziness. Cultivators possess robust qi and blood, so they can hold on even after losing a few drops of essence-blood; however, consecutive losses of essence-blood over a short period are, in fact, damaging to the body. Not to mention that Wang Yiting not only had to use his own essence and blood to refine the malevolent ghost but also had to mentally resist it, establishing his authority through torment. Exhausted by both efforts, he could barely hold on for three days before he began to falter. After all, this was a thirty-year-old vengeful spirit. Once its desires were stirred by the essence and blood, its resistance was far more intense than when he had previously refined ghost infants, placing an even greater strain on his spirit. In truth, he simply lacked experience. This was his first encounter with a vengeful spirit over ten years old, and he had initially assumed that refining a thirty-year-old spirit would be just as difficult as refining a ghost infant; even if it were difficult, it surely couldn’t be much harder. But after these three days, it suddenly dawned on him that although he’d told himself not to rush, his actions had been far too hasty. The process of refining the Ghost Altar really did have to be taken slowly. Having made up his mind, he temporarily halted the refinement process. He first washed up and tidied himself, then headed out the door. He found a high-end restaurant and ordered over thirty dishes all by himself. To avoid any trouble, he paid the bill in advance so no one would disturb him, then retreated to a private room to eat and drink to his heart’s content—only then did he manage to vent some of the pressure he’d been feeling over those brief three days. After eating and drinking his fill, he walked out the front door—a toothpick clenched between his teeth—under the admiring gazes of the restaurant staff. Standing by the roadside, he felt a bit lost for a moment. In the past, he had been just as busy—either cultivating to absorb and process the essence he’d gathered, or making the rounds among the homes of the wealthy, offering introductions and authenticating antiques for a fee. After all, with only one Ghost Infant at his disposal, he could only choose one wealthy family at a time; once he’d worked them to the bone, he’d move on to the next. So, it wouldn’t be wrong to say that his main job was as an antique broker. But now, due to his injuries, he’d turned down all invitations and made up an excuse about having other business to attend to before leaving Yashan City; in reality, he was simply holed up at home recuperating. His ghost infant had been eliminated again, and the newly acquired vengeful spirit hadn’t yet been fully refined. He’d only just managed to escape and was planning to rest; there was no way he could return so soon after leaving just a few hours ago. So, upon careful reflection, he really did have nothing to do right now. After pondering for a moment, he realized what he should do; perhaps he should go near Song Wencheng’s home to gather some information and assess the situation? As the saying goes, “Know your enemy and know yourself, and you will never be defeated in a hundred battles!” He still had no idea who his opponent had been that night, so now was the perfect time to take a moment to investigate. With a plan in mind, he headed straight for his destination. He was already thoroughly familiar with the area around the Song residence, and soon he found a spot that was convenient for observation yet unlikely to be noticed. From there, he furtively and stealthily peered toward the Song house. He thought he was well-hidden, but little did he know that his every move had already been inadvertently spotted by someone. Li Qingshu had also just moved in here. Although the villa hadn’t been vacant for long, she still spent the entire morning cleaning it from top to bottom, inside and out. Just as she was carrying a bucket of water, preparing to wipe down the window in her bedroom that looked out onto the street, she suddenly spotted a somewhat suspicious middle-aged man on the street below, crouching with his head down and peering in her direction. She followed his line of sight and realized he was looking toward the house to the left of hers. Her professional instincts immediately told her that this man had ulterior motives and might be plotting something sinister—most likely, he was planning to steal something! Without missing a beat, she quietly stepped away from the window, jogged downstairs to the courtyard gate, and cautiously peered out. Seeing that the man was still crouching with his neck craned, she slipped out the gate, took a wide detour, and silently approached him from behind. Although Wang Yiting’s attention had been fixed on the Song family’s house, he remained vigilant. Just as Li Qingshu approached from behind, still several meters away, he sensed her presence. Just as he was about to turn around, Li Qingshu’s movements became even more swift and sudden. she pushed off with her foot, darted forward, and covered three or four meters in a single bound. She reached out and grabbed Wang Yiting’s arm, spun around, and executed a shoulder throw. Instantly, a grown man weighing over a hundred jin was slammed onto the concrete, leaving him dizzy and seeing stars, momentarily disoriented and unable to tell which way was up. (End of Chapter)