Early the next morning, the police chief led a team to the village. Upon opening the temple door, he instructed the forensic doctor to peel back the wax layer on-site. Beneath it lay the corpse of an elderly man dressed in a Daoist robe stitched with gold and silver threads, now blackened from blood and water. After exposure to air overnight, the skin had darkened considerably. According to later reports, this corpse was eventually taken by the provincial archaeological team. Not long after, a provincial archaeological team arrived in our area.
During this time, my health fluctuated wildly. Zha Wenbin remarked that we needed to wait for the archaeological work to finish before uncovering any answers—the truth lay within that coffin, which was now protected, with outsiders barred from entering the General's Temple area.
The archaeological team's presence delighted many locals. In our remote village, older residents gathered after meals, including several who had participated in burning down the General's Temple years ago. They boasted about their heroic deeds while teasing village women about romantic escapades, much to the annoyance of the provincial archaeologists trying to work.
Within a month, members of the archaeological team began falling ill with symptoms similar to mine. The team leader, Professor Wang, who had dealt with ancient relics for years, sensed something was wrong. After asking around the village about similar ailments, he was directed to my house.
Professor Wang was straightforward. After hearing my father recount recent events, he insisted on meeting Zha Wenbin. That evening, he showed up at Wenbin's place with several bottles of wine.
Having explored countless tombs and encountered strange phenomena, Professor Wang was no stranger to the bizarre. He also had an interest in unconventional practices, so upon learning that Zha Wenbin was a sect leader, he approached with respect.
When they arrived, Wenbin was studying the characters on the wall, having already committed them to memory and transcribed them at home.
After explaining his purpose, Professor Wang asked if Wenbin recognized these characters from his archaeological work. Wenbin replied he'd never seen them before, but after decades of experience, believed they were lost forms of writing. As for whether they belonged to the legendary "Book of Good Fortune," he couldn't promise anything. However, a specialist in ancient texts at the provincial museum might help decode them.
Wenbin confirmed something strange about the temple, but his current skills couldn't identify the issue. This strangeness seemed shielded by another mysterious power, so it wasn't likely to harm anyone—at least for now. The answers probably lay in the coffin and the wall characters.
Professor Wang mentioned that the coffin had been taken to the province, awaiting expert examination. Based on its design, he judged it to be over a thousand years old and incredibly well-preserved, meaning provincial authorities were taking it seriously. They hadn't ruled out an underground palace beneath the temple, but with so many people suddenly falling ill, panic ensued, halting their work. They had no choice but to seek Wenbin's help.
Professor Wang wanted to ask Wenbin to perform a ritual, but Wenbin shook his head. "If it were possible, I would have done it already," he said. "With celestial vision active, I see nothing. The only oddity is the two clouds hovering over little Yiran's head. Using the Celestial Exorcism Mantra seems ineffective. We should wait until the coffin is opened before making decisions; I have no leads right now." Seeing that even the sect leader was stumped, Professor Wang took his leave. The next day, except for a few people left to secure the site, everyone else returned to the province, with the afflicted remaining in the county hospital to await news.
A week later, Professor Wang rushed to my house, grabbing my father and taking him to Wenbin's. Once there, he quickly handed Wenbin a letter from Mr. He, an expert in ancient scripts from the provincial museum.
In the letter, Mr. He noted this was a rare ancient writing resembling scripts from ancient Ba Shu regions. He could only decipher a small part, suggesting the wall might hold information about the location of a wondrous book, which would require more time to decode.
"What did Mr. He say?" Professor Wang asked. Wenbin handed him the letter, and after reading it, Professor Wang decided this matter was best left to Mr. He for further study. Although leads were scarce, the archaeological team members seemed somehow possessed, and delaying wasn't a solution—they had to try something. In those years, an official archaeological team dabbling in superstition might risk Professor Wang's career.
Wenbin suggested returning to the General's Temple that night to investigate. Since people were still falling ill even after the coffin was removed, the problem wasn't solely connected to it.
With no other options, Wenbin prepared a list for Professor Wang, asking him to procure glutinous rice, soybeans, a rooster, and incense paper. He also instructed my father to find several hunters and butchers from the village, along with tools like hoes and crowbars. Once everything was ready, eleven people gathered at my house, including members of the archaeological team.
During preparations, Wenbin again isolated me in a room. After staring at me for a long time, he left, frustrated. The archaeological team represented official authority; if caught practicing superstition, it would jeopardize Professor Wang's career. But they couldn't abandon the sick, so Wenbin decided to take a risk, even with slim chances of success. He was prepared to venture into the underworld if necessary.
That night, Wenbin and twelve others, accompanied by a large black dog, headed to the temple. The group included three archaeological team members, several hunters and butchers, and my father—eight in total. They began work at midnight under Wenbin's guidance.
Since these incidents occurred after the coffin's removal, Wenbin couldn't wait for it to be opened; he needed to try something now.
At the General's Temple, Wenbin selected seven individuals to sit inside, arranging them in the Big Dipper formation. Two hunters stood guard at the entrance, while two butchers stood beside him.
Wenbin gave each person a Celestial Talisman, instructing them to light it immediately if they sensed approaching danger. This talisman served as a protective charm, allowing ordinary people to summon celestial soldiers against evil once in their lives.
Once positioned, Wenbin instructed the butchers to pour rooster blood into empty bowls before the seated individuals and gave each a stick of incense.
What was this formation's purpose? Wenbin reasoned that Daoist power remained, suppressing the malice within the General's Temple. The two forces were evenly matched, but at a specific moment, one might overpower the other. He chose the fifteenth night of the lunar calendar, when Yin energy peaked, for this plan. He intended to summon the evil presence with a spirit-calling array before activating the Big Dipper formation to trap it. The two guards at the entrance served as door gods, while the two behind them protected the formation.
Wenbin thought to himself that even a malevolent spirit that had achieved form should be affected by this grand formation.
After arranging everything, Wenbin lit candles at each corner of the temple and placed a bowl of upside-down rice at the center, along with three incense sticks.
Holding the talisman bell, Wenbin began shaking it while chanting the Celestial Exorcism Mantra, circling the small temple. After every three laps, he tossed a yellow paper, continuing this rhythm. At first, the group felt tense in this eerie atmosphere, but after half an hour with little action, they relaxed.
As he completed his forty-ninth circle, Wenbin suddenly opened his eyes and hurled a talisman toward the southeast corner. The candle there extinguished, and Wenbin shouted, "Ha!" He unsheathed his Seven-Star Sword and raced toward that corner. Before anyone could react, a black cat leapt out, darting toward the doorway, with the black dog in pursuit.
The hunter at the entrance reacted quickly. Without waiting for Wenbin's command, he fired two shots; both hunters were skilled marksmen. Surprisingly, the black cat dodged the bullets, scurried to the northwest corner, then climbed onto the roof beams. Once there, a pitiful "meow" echoed down, sending chills through everyone. The black dog barked furiously, teeth bared, ready to pounce. Wenbin squinted up at the roof, thinking if he didn't capture this entity today, more innocent lives could be lost. After issuing a command, he directed two lamps at the ceiling, flooding the hall with blinding white light. The hunters aimed to shoot again, but Wenbin stopped them, indicating it would be futile.
Realizing the true entity had emerged, Wenbin resolved not to let it escape. He instructed the seated seven to sprinkle rooster blood around themselves, forming a circle to stabilize the formation. Then he presented the grand seal, quickly drew a talisman on the ground, and using the Seven-Star Sword, ignited it before directing it to the formation's center.
Typically, swinging a sword through air wouldn't do much, but as he completed his strike, the cat reacted as if wounded, letting out a heart-wrenching cry before fleeing toward the northwest corner. When lamps were directed there, nothing was visible.
A chill descended, making everyone shiver uncontrollably, as if drugged. Everyone felt heavy-headed, and while the hunters and butchers endured, Professor Wang appeared near collapse within minutes.
Wenbin silently cursed his misfortune and shouted, "Light your talismans!" His voice boomed, jolting everyone awake. Instantly, all twelve talismans ignited simultaneously. As they flared to life, the night sky erupted with thunder, followed by lightning that seemed eager to split the temple in two.
Wenbin stumbled, barely containing a mouthful of blood. After igniting the twelve Celestial Talismans, their collective power threatened to overwhelm him. Gritting his teeth, he scattered soybeans and produced a small flag, arranging it according to the Eight Trigrams. Just then, the candle in the northwest corner went out.
This was "Scattering Beans to Form Soldiers," a common spell from the Mao Mountain Sect. In that instant, everyone entered a trance. According to later recollections, after igniting the Celestial Talismans, they lost control of their bodies, their consciousness fading until they awoke the next day.
After arranging the formation, Wenbin spat blood. Wiping his mouth, he reignited a talisman with his sword, thrusting toward the northwest corner. Another anguished cat cry rang out as a massive black cat emerged, baring its fangs at Wenbin. The black dog stood ready, waiting for the command to attack. Had Wenbin not restrained it, it would have charged.
"Wretched beast! Do you recognize this grand seal?" Wenbin raised the Celestial Just Path Grand Seal in his hand.
When the cat saw the seal, instead of retreating, it stepped forward, baring its teeth as if holding a grudge against it. With a quick bow, it lunged directly at Wenbin.
The black dog, eager to defend, couldn't hold back. It sprang forward like an arrow. A tussle ensued between the cat and dog. Realizing it was cornered, the old cat cleverly leaped onto a pillar, disappearing into the darkness, leaving the black dog circling below in frustration.
Wenbin remained vigilant. With the enemy lurking in shadows while he stood in light, he knew the old cat wouldn't surrender easily, especially after having its lair destroyed. It awaited a moment of distraction. Wenbin decided to draw it out, pretending to check on nearby people. He called, "Heizi, come here." Reluctantly wagging its tail, the big black dog trotted over. Sure enough, with a loud "meow," a large shadow shot from the beam, aiming for Wenbin's head.
Wenbin was prepared. He dodged, but the cat still scratched his face. It quickly turned and swiped again, leaving another blood mark on his cheek. The cat stood provocatively before him, tail high. The dog itched to attack, but Wenbin commanded, "Guard the door." Ignoring the cat's taunts, the dog raced to the entrance, blocking the only escape route like a fierce guardian.
Holding the grand seal, Wenbin chanted a spell. Soon, the scattered yellow soybeans began jumping on the ground. The sound alarmed the black cat, making it nervously retract its neck. The jumping soybeans gradually formed a circle around the cat, which remained inside, too frightened to move, just hissing at Wenbin while the black dog proudly barked from outside the circle.
Taking advantage of this moment, Wenbin pulled out black ritual paper, drawing a complex talisman with a vermilion pen. With a firm slap of the grand seal, he pierced it with his sword tip, igniting a blue fire. He shouted, "In my name, grant me true thunder! Celestial Lord Lao Tzu, come quickly as ordered!"
The black cat seemed to understand human speech. Upon hearing the spell, it frantically charged toward the exit, disregarding the soybeans. After several attempts, the formation appeared disrupted, and just as the cat prepared to bolt, Wenbin hurled the nearly-burnt talisman at it.
With a resounding crash, massive lightning ripped through the sky, striking the temple and hitting the black cat directly. Sparks flew everywhere, and even Wenbin was knocked down. This thunder was earth-shattering—his first time summoning true thunder. He felt his energy surge as blood spewed from his mouth. Just when he feared fainting, he saw the black cat struggling to rise and approach him. Wenbin had little strength left; it felt as if he might soon meet his ancestors. Worse, all corner candles had extinguished. Wenbin feared he might not leave the temple alive.
As the black cat steadily approached, a portrait of Celestial Lord Lao Tzu seemed to remind him to use his last strength. He staggered toward the portrait and spat blood onto it.
Strangely, when his blood splattered the portrait, the incense at the Big Dipper formation burned more vigorously, filling the hall with righteous energy. The black dog, seeing the cat surrounded, charged forward and bit down on it, tearing and tugging furiously, venting its anger as the cat's pitiful cries and dog's fierce growls echoed around.
The next morning, as roosters crowed, everyone awoke to see a dismembered cat corpse, while Wenbin lay unconscious beneath the portrait. Professor Wang checked his pulse and, relieved, declared he was alive, quickly arranging his hospital transfer.
Wenbin woke three days later, grateful to survive but still shaken. Doctors said he'd suffered severe internal injuries from the shock and needed recovery time. After all, he was still human and couldn't endure such chaos. He instructed Professor Wang to burn the cat's body and bury its ashes beneath a peach tree. Professor Wang did exactly that.
A month later, Wenbin left the hospital. News arrived from the museum—the coffin dated from the late Tang Dynasty, made of rare golden silk wood. Inside lay a remarkably preserved Qing Dynasty corpse dressed in Daoist robes adorned with dark blue lotus flowers—one of the province's significant archaeological finds in recent years. Scholars believed the body belonged to a historical figure from the legendary Blue Lotus Sect. Strangely, the coffin also contained a black cat's remains.
Upon receiving this news, Wenbin connected the dots. He immediately suggested to Professor Wang that they excavate the underground palace beneath the General's Temple, insisting it contained needed answers. Having witnessed Wenbin's abilities, Professor Wang quickly arranged an exploration team.
Historically, ancient temples often included underground chambers for storing scriptures and offerings. While the General's Temple appeared simple, it was confirmed to be Daoist in origin. Local rumors had long suggested buried treasures. Years ago, some attempted to dig for riches, but found only limestone. Even dynamite attempts led to injuries, and afterward, no one dared disturb the temple.
Professor Wang and his experienced archaeologists knew that searching for tombs was typically straightforward—they'd excavated over ten significant Han Dynasty tombs. However, after previous dangers, Professor Wang was cautious: they would work only during daylight. Since the temple had long ago burned down, they started from ruins, with many areas unrecognizable. It took two full weeks just to survey the site.
Meanwhile, Wenbin performed a ritual for the old cat's release. Three days later, he planted seven peach wood stakes under the same peach tree in the Big Dipper formation. If the cat wasn't truly released, it would be permanently sealed there. Surprisingly, the area eventually became a peach grove, though the trees only bloomed without bearing fruit—a mystery no one could explain.
Another week passed without progress on the underground exploration. Frustrated, Professor Wang sought Wenbin's advice. Initially reluctant to join official archaeological activities due to farming duties and family responsibilities, Wenbin eventually yielded to Professor Wang's persistent pleas.
Everyone knew ancient people considered feng shui—the art of positioning based on the Book of Changes and deeply intertwined with Daoism. A favorable feng shui site required a master's examination, and the General's Temple was reportedly where two dragons met.
I remembered from childhood how during severe droughts, people came to pray for rain. I once observed a rain-seeking ceremony: a procession with musicians, offerings, and incense headed to the legendary dragon pool to sacrifice a white rooster. They'd set incense, place a gourd on the ground, and chant incantations. Supposedly, the gourd gradually filled with water until overflowing. The strongest villager would carry this incredibly heavy gourd home without stopping—those lacking stamina might collapse before arriving. Once home, the water was placed in the ancestral shrine to invoke rain. Elders said carrying the gourd felt like bearing a mountain. The prayer site was near the General's Temple, emphasizing its favorable feng shui.
Wenbin carefully examined the marked temple site and cast an oracle right there. Signs indicated an underground chamber existed below. However, the flat landscape revealed nothing significant. So Wenbin and Professor Wang climbed a mountain opposite the temple to survey the area. What they saw amazed Professor Wang.
A winding creek flowed from the west, converging where they stood—the legendary entrance used by the Azure Dragon for water collection. Eastward, mountains stretched for miles, but at this spot, the land suddenly dipped, as if a great dragon lowered its head to drink—another water collection entrance!
Two azure dragons drew water here, showing how favorable the feng shui was. Looking down at the site marked with white lime, they saw a massive turtle shape on the ground, its head pointed directly at a small pond.
Even Wenbin was astonished. What incredible feng shui! The turtle perched above two dragon heads, drawing in their essence. Combined with sun and moon energies, not just the cat but even a rat could become spiritually powerful here. This was truly a place fit for an emperor's burial!
"The three heads point to the same place; it must be there," Wenbin muttered, counting on his fingers. He told Professor Wang, "See that small stone bridge across from the General's Temple? If I'm right, the underground palace should be right beneath it. Let's investigate."
By sunset, they reached the small blue stone bridge. Remembering what he'd seen earlier, Wenbin jumped into the river, searching for clues.
"Professor Wang, see this stone? Isn't it coated with glutinous rice slurry?" In ancient times, wealthy people used glutinous rice paste instead of cement for construction. This mixture was as solid as modern cement; some ancient tombs in our area required dynamite to break open, demonstrating its durability.
This glutinous rice stone posed no mystery to Professor Wang, who had seen countless oddities. After confirming the location, they returned to base—my family's old house, where the archaeological team had temporarily set up camp.
The next morning, Professor Wang bought several vinegar bags, pouring them into a large barrel. They took it to the bridge and slowly poured vinegar into the stone cracks. Gradually, the stones loosened. By midday, the softened stones revealed a large hole—a hidden world waited inside.
Professor Wang had people bring a blower, sending air into the hole for an hour. Using a rope, they lowered a duck inside. After ten minutes, they pulled it out unharmed, signaling it was safe to enter. Wenbin led the way.
When strong lights illuminated the underground palace, they revealed a rectangular chamber about the size of a basketball court, eerily empty except for murals covering the walls. Professor Wang excitedly recognized them as national treasures and cautiously approached, wary of potential traps.
Fortunately, there were none. The first mural depicted a monkey in a cave, followed by a young man with the monkey. The third showed the young man bowing to the monkey. The sequence continued, ending with an elderly white-bearded man riding a crane westward, and finally, a coffin in a main hall.
As a Daoism disciple, Wenbin immediately understood: this was the legendary "Ball Monk"! The tales were real! Trembling with excitement, he approached the opposite wall, which portrayed a Daoist master subduing demons—exaggerated but confirming these figures existed.
Professor Wang's light revealed a wooden box quietly sitting on a shrine, against a wall painted with the Three Pure Ones of Daoism. Everyone stared at this box—the chamber's only artifact besides murals. Its value likely exceeded imagination.
Wenbin and Professor Wang approached simultaneously. The professor, acting professionally, put on gloves as everyone gathered in anticipation. Before Professor Wang finished preparations, Wenbin suggested they bow to the Three Pure Ones first.
The team, mindful of recent strange events, respected the ritual. After a reverent bow, Professor Wang nervously opened the box.
From outside, it was sandalwood without locks, decorated with Eight Trigrams. Wenbin sensed something wrong but couldn't identify it. He stood with closed eyes, thinking deeply.
Professor Wang couldn't wait. Before Wenbin could warn him, he opened the box, triggering flames that burned his hands. Startled, he dropped the box, which immediately burned to ashes on the ground.
The chamber contained saltpeter and sulfur. Stable for a thousand years, these materials ignited when Professor Wang triggered a fire trap, destroying everything inside. What was in that box? Only the mural painter would know.
Deeply regretful, Professor Wang glanced at Wenbin's worried expression. This might have been a Daoist ancestral relic—how could anyone not want to see its true form?
After discussion, everyone agreed with Wenbin's theories. This place was likely built by the legendary Ball Monk. After his death, rather than cremation, he was buried in this underground palace. Later, the Blue Lotus Sect seized the place, opened the palace, took the box, and left a trap. They also removed the fine red sandalwood coffin. Even after a thousand years, the body inside hadn't decayed—a burial fit for an emperor! The Blue Lotus Sect leader removed the Ball Monk's corpse but, for unknown reasons, sealed the body within the wall rather than properly burying it, leaving it in this grand hall.
As for the box's contents, everyone speculated it could be the fabled "Book of Good Fortune." To know for certain would require deciphering the wall inscriptions.
Based on this explanation, the opposing forces in the temple must represent the Ball Monk and the Blue Lotus Sect leader. After Wenbin purged the evil spirits that night, only Daoist power remained. Wenbin quickly arranged for everyone affected, including me, to return to the General's Temple for a ritual, asking ancestors to dispel the evil energy from our bodies. Strangely, after bowing toward the wall where the dead had once been buried, we felt completely fine by the next day.
The heritage department later excavated the murals entirely, and the underground palace was resealed. The temple itself was locked, but incense offerings continued to thrive, with many visitors praying for safety.
Wenbin returned home with unanswered questions, and the General's Temple matter reached a temporary conclusion.
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Chinese Words/Phrases in Chapter 4 Fierce Battle
Character Names and Titles
1. Zha Wenbin (查文斌) - The Daoist practitioner who assists the narrator's family
2. Professor Wang (老王) - Archaeological team leader
Daoist Practitioners and Sects
1. Daoist (道士) - Practitioner of Daoism who performs rituals
2. Mao Mountain Sect (茅山派) - Famous Daoist sect founded by Tao Hongjing
3. Three Pure Ones (三清) - Highest deities in the Daoist pantheon
4. Ball Monk (弹子和尚) - Legendary Daoist figure mentioned in murals
5. Blue Lotus Sect (青莲教) - Historical religious sect
6. Celestial Lord Lao Tzu (太上老君) - Important Daoist deity invoked during battle
Divination Tools and Objects
1. Eight Trigrams (八卦) - Ancient Chinese divination system
2. Talismans (符/符咒) - Paper charms with magical properties
3. Celestial Talisman (天师符) - Special protective charm
4. Seven-Star Sword (七星剑) - Ritual weapon used by Daoist practitioners
5. Peach tree/wood (桃木) - Wood with protective properties against evil
Ritual Practices and Techniques
1. Big Dipper formation (七星步) - Ritual arrangement based on star patterns
2. "Upside-down rice" (倒头饭) - Funeral offering ritual
3. Celestial vision (阴阳眼) - Ability to see spiritual entities
4. Scattering Beans to Form Soldiers - Mao Mountain Sect spell
Cultural and Historical References
1. Book of Good Fortune (如意册) - Legendary text with magical powers
2. Feng shui (风水) - Chinese practice of harmonizing people with their surroundings
3. Book of Changes (易经) - Ancient Chinese divination text
Locations
1. General's Temple (将军庙) - The haunted temple central to the story
2. Ancestral shrine (祠堂) - Place for ancestor worship
Energy Concepts
1. Yin energy (阴气) - Passive cosmic force associated with darkness and cold