劍問蒼天 - 第156章 夜探 - 翰墨軒

Zhou Yixuan shot him a contemptuous look. "What would a worthless wretch like you know? The other coffins do not count, but one among them was different from the rest. It was not covered in dust as thick as the others, and it was laid out squarely on a north-south axis; moreover, its position marked the very place in that ghost-haunted ground where the yin energy was thickest of all."

At this point Zhou Yixuan's expression grew even graver. "I had not thought of any of this at first—that coffin was not conspicuous. But when Wild Wolf called out 'Mr. Ghost' upon first seeing the man, something stirred in my mind, and I secretly studied the feng shui of that ghostly dwelling. Sure enough, I made out a thing or two. I fear this man truly is of the ghost path, and means to use that yin energy to nourish himself in quiet seclusion." Yet here a trace of doubt surfaced on Zhou Yixuan's face; he lowered his head slightly, as though puzzling something out aloud. "It is only that, though those of the demonic cult who practice the arts often take strange and crooked paths, arts of this ghostly kind are, as I recall, more the province of the southern borderlands' shamanic sorcery. How is it that they should appear in this man?"

Wild Wolf Daoist suddenly cut in, "That need not be so. Back then the Ten Thousand Poisons Sect had an old fellow called the Blood-devouring Old Demon—besides his famous Blood-devouring **, did he not also practice a formation called 'Five Ghosts Commanding the Spirits'?"

Zhou Yixuan spat in disgust. "Enough of your pretending to understand what you do not! That old good-for-nothing Blood-devouring wretch picked up a few paltry tricks from somewhere, forced a few innocent souls into his service, and then used them to play the ghost and frighten people. When it came to real use, he was usually broken the moment he raised his hand. The shamanic arts of the southern borderlands are vast and profound, and in the ghost path they have achieved wonders that stagger the world. How could that worthless creature be mentioned in the same breath?"

Wild Wolf Daoist was silenced. But on reflection he had to admit that Zhou Yixuan was right: in those years, when the Blood-devouring Old Demon waylaid Zhang Qingyue—then still a disciple of Qingyun—and used the Five Ghosts Commanding the Spirits for the first time, it had in fact been inexplicably broken by Zhang Qingyue. Strange and eerie as the scene had been, and ghostly as the treasure in Zhang Qingyue's hand had been, it must after all have been because the Blood-devouring Old Demon's own arts were wanting. Thinking thus, Wild Wolf Daoist felt a fresh measure of contempt for the Blood-devouring Old Demon—and quite forgot how he himself had once groveled and begged for mercy at that same man's hands.

Xiaowan stood nearby, her brows knit. "Grandfather, be that as it may, Father's spirit tablet is still in the middle of that room. Now that there is such a monster inside, might that not be a bad thing?"

Zhou Yixuan shook his head slowly. "Your father has been gone many years; that much does not matter now. But that place is, after all, where your father's spirit tablet rests, and he was my only son. I cannot simply leave it at that."

Wild Wolf Daoist was startled and stared at him. "What did you say?"

Zhou Yixuan snorted. "Naturally I mean to go back and look again. I cannot simply walk away like this."

Wild Wolf Daoist's dog-face paled. "That man is not someone you or I can afford to cross, do you understand?"

Zhou Yixuan spat. "Ignore him," he said, addressing himself. "By the ordinary rule, for one of this ghost path, the night, when yin energy is at its fullest, is the best time for his cultivation and quiet nurture. If we are to spy him out, daylight would be better. But since he has crossed our path today, we cannot very well go back so early. We will wait until night and then return."