Chapter 158 - 147: Paper Official Robes

Chapter 158: Chapter 147: Paper Official RobesThe maid’s whip lashed down on Duan Qinglan’s back over and over, tearing her clothes and leaving streaks of blood on her delicate skin. Fortunately, her wounds healed quickly, and the blood from the whip marks dried up within a minute or two, forming a fresh, bright scab. "Madam, the lesson is done." The whipping had lasted for nearly half an hour when the maid stopped and reminded Duan Qinglan. "Let me down," Duan Qinglan said softly. The pulley holding the chains began to turn, and Duan Qinglan slowly descended to the floor. When her feet touched the tiles, Si Ming held her gently and carefully removed the iron hook from her collarbone. "You don’t need to be so careful. Every instance of *pain* is to awaken the fire," Duan Qinglan said wearily, leaning her head against Si Ming’s shoulder. "Madam is right." Si Ming did not refute her, helping to remove Duan Qinglan’s tattered clothes. Together with the maid, he wiped the sweat and blood from her body with a damp cloth, then dressed her in a fresh jacket and skirt. The jacket was purple with a high collar, the skirt black and bell-shaped. To make her attire more solemn, Duan Qinglan always liked to have the tailor embroider black plum blossoms on the jacket. With the new attire on, the maid helped pin up her disheveled hair and put on her bell-shaped hat. Duan Qinglan, no longer looking like a distressed prisoner, had resumed her dignified appearance as the lady of the Si Mansion. "Old Ming, go check the tattoo that stabilizes Yu Er’s madness." Duan Qinglan saw that Si Ming was already bending down to carry her, but she carefully stepped aside, brushing away the maid’s hand that reached out to help her. *How can one hope to awaken the fire if they cannot endure a bit of *pain* and calamity?* As she spoke, Duan Qinglan opened the door, and Si Ming and the maid followed her out. The room was left empty, except for two furry yellow-skinned heads poking through the wind vent. ... The yellow-skinned creatures were small and nimble, able to slip through unnoticed cracks in bricks, piles of straw, and broken tiles where people could not fit. They came and went as they pleased. Only during the monthly "Divine Gathering," when Duan Qinglan and her associates discussed highly secretive matters in a completely enclosed stone room, could they completely avoid the prying eyes of these creatures. But she couldn’t encase herself in a shell all the time. Living in the Si Mansion, it was inevitable that those small and agile creatures would sneak peeks at her. By now, Duan Qinglan had entered her daughter’s bedroom, where the heavy fragrance mixed with a faint scent of blood, making her feel a pang of sympathy for her daughter. She and Si Ming had only managed to have this one daughter after many years, and now it was impossible for them to conceive another child. Years of enduring punishments like "hooking," "whipping," and "cane beatings" hadn’t broken her body and spirit but had destroyed her ability to bear children. "My poor Yu Er," Duan Qinglan murmured as she gently stroked Si Yuer’s face, carefully opening her eyelids. Si Yuer seemed to be dreaming, her eyes darting rapidly beneath her lids, but there was no sign of madness in her gaze. Not entirely relieved, Duan Qinglan released her grip, and with her left thumb’s nail, scraped forcefully against the pad of her middle finger, peeling up the skin. Though the pain from ten fingers was hard for ordinary people to endure, for Mrs. Duan, it felt like a mosquito bite, barely eliciting a furrowed brow or any other expression of *pain*. She closed her eyes and silently recited a Daoist spell, "Tongue God, adhere to the wheel, bring the illness into the spirit, mind’s elixir source, allow me to perceive truth..." After chanting several times, Mrs. Duan opened her eyes, her gaze clear. She bit her tongue sharply and sprayed the blood onto the exposed flesh of her middle finger pad, commanding coldly, "Light the lamp and expedite blessings!" "Zing!" A pale white flame ignited on Duan Qinglan’s middle finger. To Mrs. Duan’s eyes, this flame wasn’t a fire but a lamp! An illness lamp. This lamp could see through illnesses and suffering. Duan Qinglan held up her left middle finger, her gaze looking through the "illness lamp" at Si Yuer’s face. Yu Er’s lively face shone with a silver glow in the lamp’s light, an indicator of good health and no illness. "She is much better... but..." Through the lamp’s light, Duan Qinglan saw not only a vast expanse of silvery light but also numerous tiny black dots. These black dots seemed to be expanding, growing from a grain of sand to a small sesame. Then, Duan Qinglan looked through the lamp’s light at the "Buddha’s head" tattoo. Through the tattoo, she saw a small amount of golden Buddha light and a predominant lush red, sinister glow. Sighing, she said, "My daughter’s illness has not completely healed, only temporarily suppressed. That tattoo, though mysterious in its effect, still lacks strength..." Upon hearing this, disappointment crept back onto Si Ming’s face. He hadn’t had complete confidence that he could fully cure his daughter’s madness. The tattoo’s suppression of madness was merely a hypothesis by some Great Divine People who had studied the Blood Well, but the Tattoo Clan had not appeared for a century, and no one knew the true results. When he sought out Zhou Xuanzhi, his deepest hope had been to delay his daughter’s full descent into madness for a few more months, already a blessing from heaven. Yet, human desires often know no bounds. Seeing how effective the tattoo was, he began to hope against hope that it might make his daughter normal, free her from the torment of madness. Now Duan Qinglan’s "illness lamp" shattered his dream. *How could he not be disappointed?* However, disappointment was not despair. A new hope arose in Si Ming’s heart: "That young Tattoo Master only said to try it; maybe he has a more effective tattoo... maybe..." "After finishing tomorrow’s lesson, I’ll accompany you to meet that Tattoo Master." Duan Qinglan tenderly observed Si Yuer’s face, saying, "I also think that the Tattoo Master might have a solution. This tattoo is completely different from a tattoo recorded in the ancient texts of our Divine Gathering." "How is it different?" Si Ming asked. "The Divine Gathering’s tattoo is a bona fide Evil Ghost, but the Tattoo Master’s work, with Buddha’s red eyes, resembles both Buddha and demon. Yet the small amount of Buddha energy contained within it is remarkably pure!" Duan Qinglan stared at the tattoo, lost in thought. ... The night was dark and the wind was strong; even at the Tianbao Temple, usually bustling with devoted worshippers, gloom hung in the air. This temple was Mingjiang Prefecture’s most famous, bustling with visitors and vibrant incense. Years ago, Mr. Bai Yun funded its reconstruction, providing 600 acres of land and rehanging the gilded "Tianbao Temple" sign. The Buddha effigies were also entirely remodeled. Beside the temple, within the fertile fields, a small lake had been dug. It covered 150 acres and was shaped like an ingot, named Yuanbao Lake. Carrying a backpack and holding a scroll, Zhou Xuan, alongside Lv Mingkun, also with a backpack, appeared by the side of Yuanbao Lake. Zhou Xuan was there to capture souls, but not the souls of monks or Ghosts; he sought the souls of government officials. "Old Yun, are you sure you didn’t lead us wrong? Are we really catching an official’s soul next to a temple? Doesn’t add up, does it?" Zhou Xuan questioned the scroll in his hand. He hadn’t wanted to bring Yun Ziliang along, figuring that once Yun Ziliang taught him the soul-catching Magic Skill and locations, he could come himself. But Yun Ziliang was adamant, saying that teaching someone to fish isn’t fun unless he can witness them casting their line. After much back and forth, Zhou Xuan agreed to come catch souls with the scroll. "How does it not add up? Let me tell you, during an official post, there’s always someone whose shady dealings are exposed. They care about appearances and can’t endure prison time; many choose to end their lives. Drowning is the most common method of suicide, and they can’t just pick any old spot; they must find a place with favorable feng shui. In all of Mingjiang Prefecture, Yuanbao Lake is the most renowned spot for such, Open the scroll and let me out." Zhou Xuan unfurled the scroll, allowing Yun Ziliang to emerge and stand by the lakeside, surveying the area before pointing to a line of willow trees nearby, saying, "Under willows and locusts, Ghostly entities often gather. Set up the altar there." With that said, the three of them made their way to the willow trees. Zhou Xuan and Lv Mingkun laid out a sheet of oil paper on the ground as an altar table, then began setting out the sacrificial offerings, A pair of incense candles, two strings of paper money, a bottle of lamp oil, along with a paper umbrella and a paper official uniform bought from a Paper Molding Shop, with Daoist Talismans drawn by Old Yun on it. The incense was lit, and the paper umbrella planted into the ground. Zhou Xuan then sprinkled lamp oil onto the paper umbrella, and folded the paper official uniform neatly, placing it at the center of the oil paper, With the altar thus prepared, Zhou Xuan took a large human-skin "Ghost hand" tattoo, rolled it up, and tucked it into the fork of a willow tree. "All set up according to your instructions." "Then begin the ceremony. Remember the ghost-catching method I taught you?" Yun Ziliang asked. "I remember." Zhou Xuan snapped the strings on the paper money and held it close to the incense, charring it slightly at the edges. Yun Ziliang called this "imprinting the taste," letting the paper money absorb the scent of incense. As the paper money was cast away, the nearby wandering souls and Ghostly entities, drawn by the scent, would approach it. To catch ghosts, one had to gather them first, Zhou Xuan charred both strings of paper money until golden and sent them cascading towards the lake: "The old master has opened the safe; come out to collect your pay!" The paper money was cast, and a gloomy wind swept it up and carried it far, like golden snow, scattering it over the lake. No sooner had the money hit the water than the lake began to bubble as if boiling, When the bubbles subsided, hands appeared out of the water, pulling the paper money down into the depths. Zhou Xuan grabbed another handful of paper money and tossed it towards the lake. This time, the hands in the lake were even more eager, reaching out to snatch the money mid-air before it even reached the surface. With each successive casting, more and more hands gathered, particularly within the four or five meters directly in front of Zhou Xuan, densely packed together, one bunch after another. Zhou Xuan felt the time was right and signaled to Lv Mingkun with a glance. Lv Mingkun had long prepared a long bamboo pole, hiding behind a tree. Waving the paper official uniform like a dancing figure under the paper umbrella at the edge of the altar, The paper umbrella had been soaked in lamp oil, its scent meant to attract Water Ghosts’ attention, combined with the allure of the paper money. There were indeed some Water Ghosts bold enough to venture onto the shore. When they saw the umbrella covered official uniform, they crowded forward, while Yun Ziliang shouted, "Who are these little ghosts, daring to snatch the old master’s official garb?" The few bold Water Ghosts, cowed by his roar, fled dejectedly back into the lake. They spent the better part of the night thus engaged, with about four or five waves of Water Ghosts daring ashore, but each time Yun Ziliang’s intimidating scold sent them back with tails between legs, until the dawn began to break. Finally, a "Big Head Baby" made its way ashore. It had the head of an adult but with disproportionately short limbs, wobbling as it walked. "Who are you, Ghostly scoundrel, daring to touch the old master’s official attire? Seeking an official post, are you? Take another step, and I’ll smash your spirit to smithereens!" Yun Ziliang threatened again. But this time, the Big Head Baby didn’t flee. Instead, it swaggered even more boldly toward the paper official uniform...