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墨書 Inktalez
I excitedly took the knife and began to turn my back to them, retreating while moving the Butcher's Knife up and down. They continued to advance, and I slowly backed away. However, I soon realized that I was losing strength as I danced with the knife. After all, I was still young at that time, and the Butcher's Knife was really heavy. Nevertheless, I managed to push them back a total of forty-nine steps. My master shouted at me that it was enough. I breathed a sigh of relief; as soon as the Butcher's Knife slipped from my hand, it crashed to the ground, embedding itself in the muddy earth. The moment the Butcher's Knife left my grasp, it felt as if a thousand-pound weight pressed down on me. I was suddenly pinned to the ground, and fortunately, the Butcher's Knife did not land within my reach as I fell. That feeling of being crushed made it impossible for me to even lift my head.
Seeing this, my master shouted, "Who told you to drop the knife?" Then he urged them to keep moving and not to worry about me. He charged forward with a bundle of Ink Fight Line.
Perhaps because they had reached the sunlight, Uncle Xiao's father could no longer catch up with them and instead took out his frustration on me. It felt unbearable, as if all my internal organs were about to burst, and the most overwhelming sensation was that all my blood vessels were filled to capacity and swelling larger by the second. If a knife were to cut me open at that moment, blood would surely spray over a meter high. Honestly speaking, I even suspected that I might explode in just a few seconds.
Just when my face turned red and I felt like I was about to burst under pressure, suddenly, it felt like some of that weight lifted off me. I raised my head and saw my master's feet in front of me. It seemed he was struggling to pull back while slipping slightly. I strained to look up further and saw him holding another segment of Ink Fight Line suspended above me. My back felt empty; there was nothing there, yet the Ink Fight Line was taut. The end was wrapped tightly around my master's hand, his fingers showing distinct red and white marks from being bound so tightly. His face was flushed red as if he were about to be pulled over.
My master noticed me dazed and shouted, "If you can move, get up quickly! Is lying on the ground comfortable?"
Startled, I hurriedly stood up. My master commanded, "Grab the knife and chase away the spirits."
I flipped over to where the Butcher's Knife lay beside me and picked it up. The talisman had fallen off. I quickly got some chicken blood and smeared it on the tip of the knife before starting to swing it up and down. My master pulled from the front while I held the knife behind him. Although I couldn't see the Spirit God, it was clear where that mass of air encircled by the Ink Fight Line was located, so I didn't veer off course. Sure enough, as I followed behind swinging the knife, my master began gaining an advantage, slowly pulling the Ink Fight Line toward Tomb Mound.
At one point, when he swung too hard and lost grip of the talisman, he quickly got pulled back again. Without hesitation, I poured the remaining half bowl of chicken blood onto the knife and affixed a whole talisman onto it so that it wouldn’t come off no matter how much I swung it. This significantly improved our effectiveness; before long, my master managed to pull Uncle Xiao's father’s spirit back toward Tomb Mound while tossing the Ink Fight Line over his shoulder. He bent forward while pulling on it and shouted at me: "Quickly seal it! Sprinkle chicken blood on the wound! And glutinous rice! Make a circle around it! Hurry up; I'm exhausted!"
Not wanting to delay any longer, I tossed aside the Butcher's Knife and rushed to seal it off by tying a tight knot with the line. Then I grabbed glutinous rice and chicken blood. There was still some glutinous rice left, but we had run out of chicken blood since I'd just used all of it. "Master," I said urgently, "we're out of chicken blood! What should we do?"
After hearing this, my master endured his discomfort and began chanting a spell—one that I recognized as Soul Requiem. Once he finished reciting it, he looked as if he might collapse from exhaustion and told me to hand him the bag. While speaking, he continued pulling on the Ink Fight Line; however, there was no longer any tension at that end even though it remained straight. I grabbed the bag and threw it toward him but missed his feet by just a little bit; he shot me an annoyed glance. Quickly jumping forward, I opened the bag and placed it in front of him.
My master reached inside for two handfuls of Cinnabar Incense Ash and sprinkled them behind him before pulling out two talismans—one wrapped around his hand holding the Ink Fight Line while he handed me the other one instructing me to wrap it around that suspended loop above us. Following his command promptly, just as I secured the talisman onto the Ink Fight Line with a sealing gesture using confusion magic, suddenly a force pressed against my lower abdomen. I stumbled backward from Tomb Mound but managed to jump over the circle of Ink Fight Line surrounding Tomb Mound without pulling everything down; instead, I only scattered some glutinous rice around. Grabbing another handful of glutinous rice, I repaired what I'd just disturbed.
After finishing this task, pain surged through my lower abdomen; lifting my shirt revealed a shocking sight—a Palm print clearly marked on my abdomen with five distinct fingers visible; however, not all fingers were straight—the ring finger and pinky were bent.
Encountering Ghost Grasp Seal for the first time made me panic; I quickly shouted for my master who glanced at me and said, "Don't worry about that right now! Come help!" Taking a deep breath, I covered myself with my clothes and crawled back into action.
The master said, "Hold the Butcher's Knife and place it horizontally at the junction. I am going to let go now." I quickly assumed a meditative posture and laid the long Butcher's Knife across my legs, with the blade facing the grave. My hands were fixed on the back of the knife, resembling a hunter waiting for prey. The master nodded, formed a Hand Seal, and struck the air behind him. He then scattered some incense ash backward and recited the Soul Binding Spell three times. After loosening the Ink Fight Line, I jumped out of the Ink Fight Line circle surrounding the Tomb Mound and crouched on the ground, gasping for breath.
At that moment, I noticed that the previously suspended Ink Fight Line above the Mound gradually loosened. Before long, it fell directly onto the Mound without any further movement. I looked at the master, not daring to speak. His face was flushed as he stared at the Tomb Mound, deep in thought. After a few minutes, he said to me, "It's okay now; you can get up. Let me see your handprint." I walked over and lifted my shirt for him to see. The master formed a Hand Seal and drew three circles counterclockwise on my abdomen. Then he took out a talisman infused with water and instructed me to drink it. After drinking, I felt significantly better; the originally brown Ghostly Handprint gradually faded before my eyes, its area slowly shrinking. Just as I was about to marvel at this miraculous change, the master said, "Stay here and watch over the formation. Don't let anyone disturb it. I'll go back and ask them about something. Don't worry; as long as the formation isn't disturbed, it won't come out. It can't come out either. Just keep people away."
After finishing his instructions, the master pointed to some people in the distance who were herding cattle, indicating that I should keep an eye on them. Since it was daytime and he had explained so much to me while there were also people nearby, I wasn't too afraid and nodded in agreement.
About two hours later, as the sun began to set, the master still hadn't returned. The cattle herders had all gone back. As darkness approached and with no sign of the master, I started to feel anxious. Looking at the two Tomb Mounds made my heart race more and more. Although one was sealed off, the other was not; besides, they were a couple—who could say they wouldn't be united in spirit? Logically speaking, this was overly imaginative since Uncle Xiao's mother had passed away over ten years ago; there was virtually no chance of her soul lingering around. However, as night fell deeper, it was hard not to think too much or feel scared.
In that moment of simplicity, I devised a plan: if I counted to one hundred and he still hadn't returned, I'd go find him. After reaching one hundred, I set a new goal of five hundred. Just as I finished counting to five hundred and was contemplating what my next target should be, a group of people appeared in the distance. As they approached, I recognized them: leading was the master followed by five middle-aged men. The master walked ahead while another man followed closely behind; four others were carrying something between them. Upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a coffin—an unpainted wooden coffin.
As they came closer, I sighed in relief; the master nodded at me in approval, and I smiled happily before standing aside to watch.
The master began lighting incense candles and burning Joss Paper while reciting various Soul Requiem chants. Among the five men who had come with him were three Ritual Taoists; one of them was Uncle Xiao's brother while another was one of Uncle Xiao's cousins. The two relatives knelt on the ground burning paper as the master continued his rituals without pause. This ritual wasn't merely for exorcism but used exorcism methods for Soul Requiem instead. The other three Ritual Taoists were also busy—one held a gong, another held a rope drum while one played a small drum—surrounding the Tomb Mound in coordination with the master’s actions. Each person stepped lightly in a specific pattern to apply pressure on the Spirit God within the grave—first dispelling its malevolence before attempting to replace its coffin.
As for why they needed to replace it, that story unfolded during those one or two hours after the master left—a tale he later recounted to me.
He returned to find Uncle Xiao at the village clinic where he and another Ritual Taoist were administering IV fluids and injections. After carefully inquiring about the entire burial process, they identified flaws in the funeral arrangements that matched what the master had anticipated. While it might not seem significant from an outsider's perspective, it was indeed crucial for a Corpse.
In rural villages where older folks lived, aside from doing minimal farming work, there was an additional task: preparing their own Longevity Wood—essentially their coffins. Uncle Xiao's father had done just that; however, when preparing his Longevity Wood due to insufficient timber and being unable to chop down trees himself, he entrusted his two sons with cutting down some trees for him instead. Unfortunately, both sons kept making excuses thinking their father could handle it alone; stubbornly believing that since they wouldn’t help him out he would manage on his own led him to finally complete his coffin.
It turned out that while its length was adequate, its width was insufficient; moreover, there was an opening at its top larger than at its bottom. He estimated that when lying down inside during burial he could simply add more layers of bedding below since he thought older people would become thinner over time—thus believing it would work out fine.
However, reality differed greatly from Uncle Xiao's father's expectations: he died from liver disease rather quickly without losing weight—in fact his body became even more swollen upon death! Consequently, what had been a small coffin became even less accommodating for him.
During burial preparations this situation arose causing chaos among everyone involved; yet they couldn't delay burial timing either—not only did those two brothers hesitate to replace their Old Father's coffin but even if they wanted to do so time simply wouldn’t allow it.
The process of placing him into his coffin took nearly an hour due to how stiff his Corpse had become—even when laid sideways into it! Ultimately they resorted to breaking his shoulder blades and leg bones with hammers after struggling for over an hour just so several strong men could forcibly fit him into that undersized coffin! Not only did this show great disrespect towards his Corpse but also delayed burial timing significantly.
After a person is buried, it is customary to place gold in the mouth of the corpse, known as "golden mouth." This practice is believed to bless future generations with wealth and serve as a fare for the Yin Chai on their journey. However, both families were poor and had neither gold nor silver, so they simply found a rusty coin and placed it in the mouth instead.
Thus, they managed to conduct Old Father's funeral. Due to the damage to the corpse and delays in timing, Old Father's resentment grew stronger. After the seven days of mourning, he was not taken away by Yin Chai. However, because offerings were continuously made, there were no major disturbances. But when it came time to stop offering food, problems began to surface. After the seven days, Old Father's consciousness had already dissipated, leaving only resentment behind. How would this resentment be released? It would seek revenge on anyone who passed within seven steps of the Tomb Mound based on the injuries he suffered. This explains why Little Master sprained his ankle and why the Ritual Taoist suffered a severe shoulder dislocation. It was an unconscious act of revenge; anyone could suffer similar harm. Therefore, elders in the nearby village often warned children not to play near the Tomb Mound, lest they become scapegoats.
This was how a tragedy unfolded due to a hasty burial.
Returning to the coffin-changing ceremony, after more than two hours of rituals performed by the master and three Ritual Taoists, they began to dig up the grave. Since they were well-prepared, there were no major mishaps during the process, except for a minor incident when the master was grabbed while trapping a soul; thankfully, no one else was injured. Notably, when changing the coffin, Uncle Xiao's father's corpse was not as decayed and foul as expected; rather, it remained in a state similar to that at the time of burial. This preservation was attributed to the Spirit God that the master had trapped.
Later, the master explained that the corpse had not decayed because it was constantly moving and its resentment was strong, which delayed its decomposition. In this light, one could consider it a pitiable Spirit God.
Once the coffin was changed and filled with earth and offerings completed, the original smaller coffin was burned in that cornfield. The fire lasted all night until rain extinguished it the next morning. Uncle Xiao subsequently performed nine consecutive rituals for his Old Father before everything was finally concluded. In hindsight, if they had prepared an appropriate coffin from the start, they would not have incurred such expenses later on. People often let casualness cloud their judgment and approach matters with indifference; eventually, they will face dire consequences—especially regarding funeral customs where carelessness is unacceptable.
The master said: "A person arrives clean and leaves clean. However, if a corpse is neglected and disrespected, it denies that person's life and can lead to dissatisfaction and resentment. The likelihood of malevolent spirits appearing increases significantly. Therefore, both the living and the dead should never be ignored."
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