Chapter 18: The Night Owl Enters the Residence

Over the past few months, Grandma had grown quite accepting of her circumstances. Whenever a doctor made a mistake and apologized, she never got angry. She always said, "This is the hardship I must endure." She had undergone seven or eight surgeries, both major and minor.

During this time, she patiently explained to me all her experiences and the secret teachings recorded in the small manual left by my great-grandfather.

She said that the practice of summoning spirits, called “Emerging the Immortal,” divides into two paths: “Emerging the Spirit” and “Ascending the Path.” “Emerging the Spirit” involves helping the immortals complete their tasks. Usually, after about ten or more years, the immortal naturally departs.

However, from the very day one emerges the spirit, the power is formidable because the summoned presence is the immortal’s true self possessing the body.

Ascending the path is different. It means the immortal takes on a disciple to cultivate together, requiring lifelong practice alongside the immortal.

At the beginning of ascending the path, one is weak and must learn and accumulate bit by bit. But once successful, ascending the path surpasses simply emerging the spirit.

Seeing my eager gaze, Grandma knew what I wanted to ask. She said, “Xiao Fangyuan, your situation is special. You have a great task to complete. Your great-grandfather hopes for you to emerge the spirit. You don’t have time to train extensively, but this depends on the conditions at the hall.”

Today, Grandma calculated by finger counting and said I was ready to be discharged from the hospital.

She handled the discharge paperwork for me. Although I hadn’t fully recovered, my condition no longer interfered with daily life.

Just as I reached the hospital entrance, Grandpa appeared carrying a bag. He said, “Cuihua, I bought back the old house. Let’s go now.”

I looked at Grandpa in shock. Wasn’t that old house bought by Da Hu?

“That wretched Da Hu is truly despicable. When he heard I wanted to buy it, he insisted on charging two thousand more than others,” Grandpa grumbled angrily.

“I’ve seen that little bastard’s face. He’s destined for an untimely death. No matter how much more he demands, he won’t get it,” Grandma replied with a nod.

“That scoundrel’s forehead is already darkened. I fear if he taints the house, so I didn’t argue with him. Let’s go back now.”

“Let’s go. Fangyuan’s situation is urgent and serious. We should return to the hall first.”

Recently, Grandma had been very clear with me about my condition.

I hadn’t believed it much before, but now I was firmly convinced she was right.

The three of us boarded a large bus back to the production team and then to the old house.

As soon as we entered the courtyard, Grandpa began tidying the yard and rooms, cursing Da Hu as he worked: “That bastard messed up our home so badly.”

Grandma went to the village to visit several old sisters and report that we were safe.

That night, Grandma started cooking early—plenty of chicken, fish, and meat, plus several vegetable dishes.

On the altar table, offerings were complete: paper money, white wine, everything needed. Aside from the offerings, another table was laid out on the kang stove.

In the countryside, there was little entertainment, and everyone went to bed early. By ten o’clock, most houses had their lights off.

Grandma gently shook the leather drum, and after half an hour, a gust of wind blew into the room. Huang Lao’er arrived with a small yellow-skinned boy.

As they entered, Huang Lao’er laughed, “Got any good wine? Haven’t had a drink in ages.”

“Since the in-laws are here, of course there’s good wine. Come, join us on the kang,” Grandpa quickly invited.

“Old Wang, I must say, over the years I’ve missed you,” Huang Lao’er chuckled, glancing repeatedly at the red altar scroll on the table.

He seemed eager to read every character before he finally settled onto the kang.

The small yellow-skinned boy followed cautiously behind him, sneaking glances at me from time to time.

Grandma had explained everything to me—I knew that boy was the bride the Huang family had arranged for me.

A strange unease filled me. I never imagined that I, a dignified man, would marry a yellow-skinned girl.

“All right, Third Aunt, begin. Once the main business is done, I’ll have a drink with Seventh Brother,” Huang Lao’er said gleefully, eyes fixed on the food and wine without turning away.

“Fangyuan, kneel down,” I heard Grandma say.

I knelt before the altar table, looking at the command flag, great seal, command sword, and a command token.

“Clang, clang.” The copper coins on Grandma’s Wen Wang drum began to jingle.

“The immortal’s descent requires registration. Which sacred mountain did they cultivate on? Every sacred mountain has a lecture hall, and the hall contains true scriptures…”

Grandma held the drum in her left hand and the divine whip in her right, slowly beginning to sing. I recognized the words—she was establishing my hall.

Setting up the hall is the first step in emerging the spirit, much like soldiers need their camp.

After setting the hall, the next step was mustering the troops. Huang Lao’er’s eyes grew wide with excitement.

“Wen Wang drum, gather the divine soldiers. To gather divine soldiers, must muster the troops. Mustering troops is no ordinary matter; once mustered well, the immortal hall will flourish.”

“First, check the immortal’s name and surname; second, check how the immortal cultivates; third, check origin and background; then check their role and specialization.”

Grandma counted troops for quite some time but found no promising candidates. She turned to look at Huang Lao’er.

“Ah, everyone knows Fang’s situation. They fear not only losing benefits but also their cultivation being harmed. If it’s impossible, then borrow the path,” he said, sighing as he looked at me. “This is my son’s fate.”

As he spoke, a small claw opened, placing a black sphere on the wine table. “Begin.”

Grandma picked up the black sphere and sighed. “One’s fate is heaven-ordained—everything is up to chance.”

Her drum continued to beat, swaying above my head back and forth.

“Some halls do not muster troops. Everything has exceptions. Those who can wield chaos to control yin and yang—such halls prosper differently.”

“The Wen Wang drum beats the five routes. Gods beyond the five routes settle here, severing causes and effects, dividing masters and servants. The main hall plans the stele and the lord.”

At this moment, Grandma pressed the black sphere onto my head with a little force, and it emitted a burst of white light.

In an instant, I felt something drilling into my mind.

“Troops formed, complete!”

A sudden headache hit me. I immediately sensed a glowing presence flash then vanish inside my mind.

I slipped into a dazed state, but gradually I felt a connection forming between myself and the environment around me.

Looking more closely, I realized it was linked to that light inside my mind.

I also noticed a faint chill flowing through my blood vessels.

“The key to establishing the hall lies in the first point. If the point is made, the great hall can open to the heavens. Immortal hall secrets number in the thousands. This method is called the pinnacle of all methods!”

Grandma’s voice grew louder. At the final press of her hand on my head, I shuddered. It felt as though a new meridian channel had formed inside me, and my strength increased greatly.

Her hand slowly released from my head as she said, “All right, Xiao Fangyuan. From today forward, your cultivation depends on you and Liulang. Your path differs from Grandma’s—I can no longer help you.”

Suddenly clear-headed, I keenly sensed my condition: my meridians were vigorous, but my yang energy was thin.

Grandma’s handwritten manual specifically recorded this: “Nine meridians deeply hidden in yin, a single thread of life concealed in two branches.”

She explained to me, “My meridians are strong but all belong to yin. Without yang to assist, it is like a windless valley—the fire of life struggles to survive. The yang energy will be completely consumed by yin before the arrival of your second life year, meaning your life’s fire will extinguish before age twenty-three.”

But Grandma also told me, “Nothing is absolute. There remains a sliver of hope. As for where that hope lies—that depends on my own fortune.”

Huang Lao’er pursed his lips, staring at me. “Hmph! You brat, your path is hard. If you die, my son’s soul will be destroyed too. So if you don’t work hard to cultivate, and my son can’t pass the immortal path, I won’t let you off.”

I nodded. I knew my path would end at twenty-three if I didn’t cultivate. Not cultivating was no different from suicide. Cultivation was my only chance at survival.