Turning right at the bend in the alley, I followed Victor Miles at a slow pace. On both sides were many residential houses, all looking very old and worn. Some doors were half open, and when people came out, they would greet Victor Miles.
"How long have you lived here?"
I asked, and Victor Miles stopped, turned his head, squinted with a smile, and held up five fingers, then flipped his hand to show ten, indicating ten years.
"You seem pretty impressive now, Ethan Zhang. I remember you used to live in that haunted building on the south side. I've heard plenty of ghosts mention you before, heh."
I didn't answer him and instead stopped walking, as if we'd arrived. At the end of the alley stood a tile-roofed house, its walls mottled and overgrown with weeds, the original earthy yellow showing through. It was an old-style residence, with two wooden doors already cracked. Above the doorway hung a Bagua mirror, and two yellow talismans were pasted on the doors.
With a creak, the door opened. The courtyard was surprisingly clean: there was a well, a willow tree beside it with long branches hanging into the well, a small bamboo table, a few little wooden stools scattered about, and a large kettle for boiling water. The black teapot on top was still steaming.
On the left and right were two rooms—one looked like a kitchen, the other a bedroom. The main living room directly ahead had its door open, with two Door Gods pasted on it.
Suddenly, I saw two streams of pale yellow energy surge out from those Door Gods and shoot straight at me.
"We have a guest—settle down, you two."
Victor Miles flicked his sleeve, and the two streams of pale yellow light returned to the Door Gods' images.
"Is that Blue Wraith still with you?"
Victor Miles smiled and asked. I nodded.
"We still have some contact, I suppose."
"That was the first time I ever saw the Blue Wraith. Its ghostly aura made me sick that very night, heh."
Victor Miles was unaware of the current situation in the city. All he knew was that several factions were fighting, and that the big names in the Dao Sect had also come by before.
Looking around the courtyard, everything was broken and in disrepair. It reminded me of the rumors about the Mount Mason Order: broken clothes, broken tools—everything they used was damaged, even their daily wear. And they weren't allowed to use their arts to make money.
Victor Miles walked over to the big kettle, struggling to lift it. I moved to help, but he refused.
"A guest is a guest. I'll handle it."
His hands trembled as he filled two cups of tea. I sat down on a chair, watching him with a heavy gaze.
"What happened to your leg, anyway?"
Earlier, a group of people wearing black and white masks were searching everywhere for Dao Sect members. I was unlucky and got caught. My two disciples were taken away—they said it was for some kind of test. In the end, they said I was mediocre and worthless. I fought back, but this is what I ended up with—my foot is crippled.
Those people are definitely from the Immortality Society. This kind of thing happened during the Nine Dragon Conference too—many Dao Sect members disappeared.
By the way, Ethan Zhang, what brings you here to see me?
I took out a piece of paper from my pocket. On it was a diagram of the array. Victor Miles was stunned as soon as he saw it, put down his teacup, and moved over to sit beside me.
What kind of array is this? I've never seen anything so strange.
Do you know this array?
I asked urgently. Victor Miles shook his head.
Yin-Yang, Eight Trigrams, Seven Stars, Big Dipper, Nine Palaces, Five Elements, Six Harmonies, Four Symbols, Seven Fiends—these are the nine techniques that usually make up our Mount Mason Order arrays. Usually, an impressive array only has three to five techniques. But this one touches all nine, yet each is slightly off, almost but not quite—so strange.
Victor Miles gave me a brief explanation of some of the symbols on the array. Then, he hurried inside and brought out a book on Mount Mason Order arrays, covered in dust and with yellowed pages. He slapped it, coughed, and when he opened it, I saw a page in the general principles section with diagrams similar to the one I had.
He started comparing and explaining to me—the composition of eight techniques and their causal relationships, and what roles they play in the array.
Ethan Zhang, look here and here—these seem to require some kind of offering to activate the array.
I looked over. On the east and west sides, there were two symbols that looked like mouths, but they were slightly different. Victor Miles studied them for a moment and spoke.
Do you have a list of materials for the array?
I hesitated for a moment and shook my head. I didn't want to drag him further into this. Although the invitation said the array could only be activated by someone with a dark heart, I thought it best not to use it at all.
Looks like I can't help you. My abilities are limited.
Victor Miles said directly. I nodded and asked a question.
Do you know where Elder Peach lives?
Victor Miles was surprised and shook his head.
That's my ancestor. He probably isn't around anymore.
I didn't say much else and asked if there were any powerful Mount Mason Order exorcists, but Victor Miles just shook his head.
By the way, do you know Father Mason?
Victor Miles's eyes widened instantly. He nodded, and I felt a secret joy.
He's my uncle-master, but I haven't seen him in nearly thirty years. When I was six, I followed my master, and my uncle-master was still around. But by the time I was ten, he had already left.
After chatting with Victor Miles for a while longer, I left his house without staying any longer. The trail had gone cold again—I had to find someone who could break this array. My only hope was Elder Peach.
I didn't go far. I had just asked Victor Miles if he had any fellow disciples, but he could only shake his head helplessly. No one in his generation knew these array techniques.
The Mount Mason Order is nothing like it was before. Decades ago, during a special period, it split up, and everyone lost contact. In the past, they would gather once a year, but after that upheaval, they completely scattered. Victor Miles said many people were either exiled or died in prison during the era when all superstition was suppressed.
Victor Miles, now nearly fifty, was just a child back then. He escaped disaster by following his master across the country.
I stayed in the old city until sunset, not leaving. That evening, I saw Victor Miles out again, working at his stall. He seemed to have good luck tonight—after doing readings for a few people, he earned some money and happily invited those nearby for a drink.
By the time Victor Miles headed home, he had spent all his money, following the custom of not keeping cash overnight. Any extra he gave to the nearby beggars.
What should I do?
I sat quietly, deep in thought. Late at night, I told Hu Tianshu about what was happening. He mentioned someone—Mao Xiaoyu's uncle-master—but there were no clues.
I stood up. There was nothing else I could do. I decided to go straight to Putian Temple to find Master Mingde. It's my only option now. Trying to contact the Dao Sect people is almost impossible—their residences and gathering places are extremely secretive, and after the defeat at the Nine Dragon Conference, they're even more tense.
Right now, the city's order is maintained by Redhair's men. Everywhere I went, I could sense the presence of Blue Wraiths—they completely control the city, and even the wandering ghosts don't cause trouble. This is part of the arrangement Hu Tianshu made for Redhair's company: instead of working in the office, his men manage the city's districts, which suits them better.
It's Auntie.
I suddenly widened my eyes and, with a whoosh, turned into a streak of black light, floating toward a quiet junkyard. As soon as I landed, I saw Ghost Aunt rummaging through the trash.
Auntie.
I called out excitedly, feeling a rush of emotion. Ghost Aunt turned and gave me her usual warm smile.
Qingyuan, we meet again.
On a rooftop, I talked with Ghost Aunt about a few things. She looked at me thoughtfully and nodded.
Just be yourself, Qingyuan. There's no need to break your own boundaries for things that make you uncomfortable. Even ghosts have principles, and that's your principle, isn't it?
I nodded and asked tentatively.
Auntie, what are you looking for? Maybe after I finish this...
Silly child, you can't even handle your own problems. Go take care of your business—mine can wait. But I have met Father Mason before.
Really?
I stood up in delight. Ghost Aunt nodded.
I don't know if he's still around, but I'll take you to see.
I nodded and floated after Ghost Aunt. She led me north, almost out of the city. She had lingered near the Wisteria neighborhood before, where people dumped a lot of trash at night.
On a highway leaving the city, Ghost Aunt stopped and pointed to a large shantytown on the left. The houses were low and rundown, but many people lived there—workers who chose it for the cheap rent.
I saw that Taoist here once before.
I murmured and released a network of ghost threads to sense the area, but found nothing—not a single ghost. It was strange.
Just then, I sensed something strange coming from the woods behind the shantytown. I floated up and, with a whoosh, moved over.
It was a ruined temple. I stared in surprise—the lights were on inside, and the strange aura I sensed came from there, as if someone had tugged on my ghost threads.
Long time no see, Ethan Zhang.
A hearty voice called out. I looked over—the temple door opened, and it was Father Mason.
Qingyuan, I should be going now.
I turned and called out.
I shouted after her.