Thunder rumbled outside the house. Inside, a pot of wine was warming on the stove. Master Quincy Mao stared at the plate of cooked meat, picked up a few pieces with his chopsticks and put them in his mouth. After chewing for a while, he poured himself a cup of wine and drank, his face full of worry, as if hesitating over something.
He had immediately recognized the child in that car today—the one who could extend his life. His own lifespan was nearly at its end, with little time left. To prolong it, he first had to use ritual magic to extract the child's soul, refine it into a Yang Soul, and then consume it. Only then could he survive.
A hint of drunkenness appeared on his face. Master Quincy Mao shakily pulled a packet of oil-soaked paper from his chest. On it was a large character for 'Soldier,' surrounded by dense, tiny writing that, on closer inspection, resembled some kind of symbols.
"To this day, I still haven't found the Legacy Bearer of the Nine Seals. The things my master entrusted to me—will they end with my generation?"
His voice was filled with sorrow. Master Quincy Mao quietly stared at the oil paper, his brows furrowed, still tangled in regret and frustration.
He thought about how his whole life had been spent battling evil spirits. Now, as he approached death, the world outside was still plagued by rampaging ghosts. This was the limit of human strength—once life reached its end, all that had been done would fade away like smoke, leaving nothing behind, especially given the uniqueness of his sect.
They never accepted those without fate. The rule for taking disciples was absolute. Over the years, Master Quincy Mao had seen many promising individuals who wanted to follow him, but he could only wave his sleeve and leave.
Before his master died, he told Master Quincy Mao that no matter what happened, he must always uphold the three principles of Solitude, Ruin, and Untimeliness. Never attempt to defy the way of heaven. Master Quincy Mao had abided by this teaching for thirty years. He lived in poverty, while many of his fellow disciples had become wealthy by relying on their skills. Some even advised him to seize the day and enjoy life while he could.
Shedding his Taoist robe, Master Quincy Mao looked at the large scar on his chest—a wound from ten years ago. He had once faced a powerful evil spirit, called the Ghost Sovereign by other ghosts. He lost utterly and thought he would die, but the Ghost Sovereign spared him, saying, 'Humans have their limits.'
Those words still echoed in Master Quincy Mao's ears. For the past ten years, he had pondered their meaning. Now, as death approached, he finally understood—human time is finite.
Or rather, his own time was limited. The Mount Mason Order was not like the orthodox Taoist sects, which could build a foundation from childhood, cultivate continuously, and eventually rely on the spiritual energy of heaven and earth to nurture their bodies and prolong their lives. A few years ago, Master Quincy Mao had sought out members of the Taoist sects, hoping they would teach him some methods to extend his life and help him find a successor. But the answer he received was cold and merciless. After being mocked, he left in anger.
Now, Master Quincy Mao was close to death.
"Brother Taoist, the things troubling your heart may not be real. Surely, you have already made your decision, haven't you?"
Master Quincy Mao immediately picked up his peachwood sword and looked toward the door. A figure dressed in black, wearing a bamboo hat and cloak, stood there. He relaxed a little and put down the sword.
The visitor was from the Ghost Syndicate, a mysterious sect in the occult world. Master Quincy Mao had met them several times before. These people were even more skilled at commanding ghosts than the Mount Mason Order—they were ghost breeders.
The Ghost Syndicate man burst out laughing.
"My name is Wraithshade."
Master Quincy Mao looked at the man with some surprise. At that moment, Wraithshade's eyes fixed on the oil paper with the 'Soldier' character on the table. Realizing this, Master Quincy Mao quickly put it away.
"Meeting is fate."
Wraithshade poured himself a cup of wine and drank, not waiting for permission. Master Quincy Mao said nothing; whatever these secretive people were up to had nothing to do with him. Their paths did not cross.
"Brother Taoist, you already show the signs of death. Why not..."
"No need for you to say more."
Master Quincy Mao immediately snapped, his voice harsh. Wraithshade looked at him, amusement in his eyes.
"Actually, there is a way to gain Yang life without killing. If you don't mind, I can teach you."
For a moment, Master Quincy Mao's dull eyes lit up with hope, but out of pride, he immediately refused.
"Brother Taoist, I may have lived longer than you and know many things. Our human limit is time, but for ghosts, time is infinite. I have seen countless evil spirits, and now they have grown so powerful that we are helpless against them."
Master Quincy Mao said nothing, only remained silent. He understood what Wraithshade meant: those who survived were the victors. In this war between the occult and the ghosts, countless practitioners had died without fate, while the evil spirits only grew stronger by the day.
"Brother Taoist, I’ve heard a little about the life-prolonging methods of the Mount Mason Order. They may be even more powerful than the technique I just mentioned. With them, you can gain all the remaining Yang life of the person you use—when they die, it’s simply that their time is up, and there’s no disturbance in the underworld. But the method I offer only extracts a small portion of someone’s Yang life. For example, if you find ten people and take one year from each, you gain ten years in total."
Master Quincy Mao was moved by Wraithshade’s words, but quickly tightened his expression again.
"This technique must come at a price, right?"
Wraithshade nodded.
"You must give to receive. The choice is yours, Brother Taoist."
Master Quincy Mao looked at Wraithshade. He knew very well that the man before him, with laughter in his eyes, could not be trusted.
"It's late. I need to rest."
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Wraithshade drank another small cup of wine, then sensibly got up and left.
After a while, Master Quincy Mao was almost drunk, slumped at the table, still torn and hesitating inside.
The next morning, Master Quincy Mao got up and headed to Zhuo Prefecture. Back when Sheriff Warren Xue left, Master Quincy Mao had already made his move—he took a strand of Warren Xue’s hair, and with ritual magic, knew exactly where Warren Xue had gone.
Two days later, Master Quincy Mao found Warren Xue. At that moment, he saw a dark, shadowy thing following Warren Xue—an evil spirit formed from the prisoner’s death. When someone with deep injustice dies, they may become a vengeful ghost, which takes seven days to fully manifest. Master Quincy Mao had already prepared a way to deal with it.
In a pharmacy, Warren Xue was with his wife and child. His son looked pale, and treatment required a large sum of money. So Warren Xue took a desperate risk and helped someone dispose of the prisoner.
Master Quincy Mao waited for his chance. He planned to intervene when Warren Xue's family was attacked by the vengeful ghost, so he could gain Warren Xue's trust and, at the right moment, use Warren Xue's son to prolong his own life.
This idea had been set in Warren Xue's mind as soon as he found a suitable person to extend his life. It was his human conscience that tormented him, making him struggle and hesitate.
Elder Peach didn’t continue telling what happened next; the result was obvious—he succeeded in prolonging his life, which was why he was still alive now. Looking at Elder Peach, I couldn’t help but think of those people from the Immortality Society, and many others in the occult world. They were all living people, just using different methods, but all for the same reason: to survive.
"Ethan Zhang, do you think I was wrong?"
I have no right to judge right or wrong, because I can’t truly understand Elder Peach’s situation at the time. But as a human being, what he did was wrong.
"Perhaps so. Taoist, what you did is no different from those people in the Immortality Society."
Elder Peach nodded, not avoiding the truth, but kept nodding repeatedly.
"This is the only mistake I made in my life."
I looked at Elder Peach in surprise, and immediately thought of someone.
"Is it Samuel Young?"
Elder Peach nodded. That was the only possibility. If he hadn’t survived by finding someone to prolong his life, then the only other way was that he’d obtained a longevity technique from the orthodox Taoist sects—and the only one who could have taught him was Samuel Young, with whom he was very close.
"Now all my work is paid on the same day, and I spend all the money immediately."
As Elder Peach spoke, I nodded. I didn’t understand why he was telling me so much, but it seemed he wanted to say something he couldn’t express, or perhaps he didn’t have the right to say. I didn’t want to think too much about it, so I took out the diagram and placed it before Elder Peach.
His gaze immediately locked onto the diagram, staring at it for a long time without looking away.
"Where did you get this?"
"From the invitation to the Dark Banquet."
Elder Peach responded with an 'oh' and nodded immediately.
"Ethan Zhang, the only thing I can tell you now is that anyone capable of creating such an array must be a Mount Mason sorcerer. It absolutely cannot be someone from the Taoist sects."
I nodded, having received Elder Peach’s definite answer.
"What about the required items?"
Elder Peach asked, and I took out another piece of paper listing the items needed to activate the array. After reading it, Elder Peach let out a long sigh and then smiled.
"So you’ve come to me hoping I can change the array, so it will work without needing so many bloody sacrifices."
I nodded. It seemed Elder Peach understood my intentions and was willing to help. I stood up.
"Ethan Zhang, I’ll try to find a way. I’ll be here, and if I make any progress, I’ll contact you. There’s going to be a grand Buddhist assembly soon—didn’t you know?"
I let out an 'ah' and looked at Elder Peach in surprise. His eyes showed deep helplessness.