Before Wang Ya could think further, the Ancient Old Ghost possessing the Ghost-Possessed Taoist lunged at her again. The Ancient Old Ghost’s speed nearly exceeded the limits of human potential. Wang Ya could no longer dodge in time. At this life-or-death moment, she took a deep breath and thrust out both hands, gripping the Taoist priest’s wrists tightly and pushing forward to prevent him from grabbing her.
The Ghost-Possessed Taoist possessed by the Ancient Old Ghost had astonishing strength. Wang Ya considered her own strength formidable, yet she struggled immensely against him. Her cheeks flushed red from the effort, her hands trembled, but the Taoist’s claws still drew closer to her face. Just as disfigurement loomed, Wang Ya’s fury erupted. A surge of energy rose from her lower abdomen and flooded into her arms. She fiercely parried the Taoist’s hands away.
The Taoist countered by lifting his leg and kicking Wang Ya squarely in the abdomen, sending her flying over two meters. She landed on her knees, slamming into the hard asphalt road. Pain twisted her face, tears welled up uncontrollably. The Taoist leaped like a tiger, soaring over a meter high, and stomped toward Wang Ya’s head.
Wang Ya sensed the danger and rolled frantically to the side. She rolled desperately toward the edge, but the Taoist’s steps shadowed her closely. Suddenly, she collided with a hard object—the sidewalk curb at the road’s edge—which halted her momentum for a split second. In that instant, the Taoist stomped down on her abdomen. Wang Ya let out a miserable scream, “Agh!”
The Taoist pinned Wang Ya underfoot and emitted a sinister, chilling laugh. He pressed down even harder.
Pain sharpened Wang Ya’s mind instantly. Her hands swiftly formed seals, gathering a scorching power in her palms. She swung her hand and slapped the Taoist’s calf. He recoiled as if burned by fire, pain contorting his face. Wang Ya seized the moment to roll onto the sidewalk, flipped to her feet, and circled behind the Bus Station sign. Before she could catch her breath, the Taoist charged again.
Under the streetlight’s glow, Wang Ya clearly saw the Taoist’s face was a sickly purple-black, as if frosted over, resembling a corpse dragged from a Funeral Home’s freezer. His speed was ferocious, shrouded in thick Yin Qi, less human than a beast pouncing on prey.
In that moment, Wang Ya’s eyes and mind fixed solely on the oncoming Ghost-Possessed Taoist. Though swift, his approach had patterns she could track. She raised her arms, tracing a Yin-Yang Fish Pattern in the air, and shouted, “Break!” Her voice thundered like lightning, the seal’s power crashing into the Yin Qi-clad Taoist like a rainbow’s momentum. The Yin Qi scattered, and he flew back over three meters.
Wang Ya dashed toward him with Bagua Steps, fingers curved like plucking a flower, aiming straight for his forehead to force the old ghost out of his body.
The Taoist let out a shrill roar, his teeth elongating into sharp fangs. He snapped his gaping maw at Wang Ya’s fingers. Her descending right hand shifted into a slap across his face, then she swiftly retreated to the Big Dipper Seven Stars Formation she had laid with bronze coins, stepping onto one.
ancient bronze coins, handled by countless people, brimmed with supreme Yang Gang Qi to repel evil. Wang Ya’s seven coins had been passed down by her grandmother, who taught her all her skills—relics from the Northern and Southern Dynasties. That era saw ethnic invasions, dynastic upheavals, endless wars where people devoured each other, slaughtering civilians for army rations, more savage than evil ghosts. These coins, saturated with Yang and Evil Qi, specially tempered, countered Yin evils perfectly.
The arrayed ancient bronze coins interconnected, forming a surge of Supreme Yang Gang Qi invisible and unfelt by ordinary people, but palpable to Wang Ya and the Ancient Old Ghost.
Thus, as the shrieking Ancient Old Ghost lunged again, it hesitated before the Big Dipper Seven Stars Formation of ancient bronze coins, then retreated. It hoisted a roadside boulder and hurled it at Wang Ya.
Wang Ya stepped on the coins, dodging continuously. Trained since childhood dodging iron rods overhead and plum blossom stakes no wider than coins, evading the ghost’s thrown stones was effortless. But the stones grew more numerous—small as fists, large as watermelons, even a several-hundred-jin rock that cracked the nearby Bus Station sign! Despite her agility, Wang Ya dodged in a sorry plight. She cursed inwardly: This old ghost is so cunning—has it become a spirit?
Knowing her array restrained its Yin Qi, it avoided close combat on the Big Dipper Seven Stars Formation where it would suffer, opting instead for stone barrages with brute force.
Tired of being on the defensive, Wang Ya grew irritated. Seeing the Ancient Old Ghost depleting the Taoist’s essence and vitality in relentless attacks, she knew prolonged fighting would kill him from exhaustion.
Wang Ya simply pocketed the precious coins, grabbed her Ghost-Capturing Copper Bell, and charged the Ghost-Possessed Taoist. As she rushed, she channeled energy into the Red Thread stringing the coins on the bell and bit her tongue, smearing the blood on her palms. She swung the bell at him, scattering his external Yin Qi—though it soon reformed.
The Ghost-Capturing Copper Bell excelled against Yin Spirits and ghosts, but proved ineffective against the old ghost possessing a living Taoist.
Her strike failed, and the Taoist, seeing her leave the array, charged again.
Against a lone old ghost, Wang Ya’s Big Dipper Seven Stars Formation would keep it at bay, and her Ghost-Capturing Copper Bell would hobble it further. Against just a Taoist, her fists and feet would suffice. But possessed, burning the host’s essence to unleash superhuman strength—each blow carried hundreds of jin, enough to shatter bones—while her anti-ghost treasures lost potency on a living body.
Subduing possessed humans was simple: restrain and prick fingers with chopsticks or needles. But where to find those now? This wasn’t an ordinary ghost; even more people might not hold it down. Alone, Wang Ya couldn’t possibly. She hadn’t been kicked flying only due to her dodges.
Now penniless and unprepared, underestimating the ghost, she had only the bell and coins. With cinnabar, yellow paper for talismans, or black dog blood, she wouldn’t be so passive. Yet her years of training weren’t wasted; she had real skills.
Patient despite the old ghost’s tenacity, Wang Ya paced according to directional steps, circling and dodging its pursuits. She pocketed the coin-strung Ghost-Capturing Copper Bell on her wrist, then repeatedly formed seals and struck at openings.
She cultivated the Yin-Yang Jue, divided into upper and lower volumes. The upper focused on capturing ghosts and subduing demons via Daoist methods.
Daoism taught: Tai Chi births Two Polarities, polarities birth Four Symbols, symbols birth Eight Trigrams.
Her footwork, the Tai Chi Array, had sixty-four positions corresponding to the trigrams’ number, divided into eight gates—Qian, Kun, Zhen, Xun, Kan, Li, Gen, Dui—each with eight variations, following Five Elements generation: Qian/Dui metal, Kan water, Zhen/Xun wood, Li fire, Kun/Gen earth. Metal begets water, water wood, wood fire, fire earth, earth metal—an endless cycle. Four Symbols anchored directions, their powers—Azure Dragon Yi Wood, White Tiger Geng Metal, Vermilion Bird Bing Fire, Black Tortoise Gui Water—combined with trigrams for myriad seals.
Wang Ya guarded the central “Tai Chi position” Yin-Yang gates, weaving through Eight Trigrams paths, trapping the Ancient Old Ghost in a confined space for close combat. Her fists couldn’t match the possessed Taoist’s power, but her hand seals flowed effortlessly. Seals bombarded the ghost ceaselessly. Though not lethally damaging, they tormented it. Crucially, she held firm—the ghost couldn’t touch her hem, only suffer her occasional palm strikes, howling in pain.
The Taoist, long possessed, neared essence depletion, losing ferocity. Wang Ya pressed harder; the ghost glared furiously but couldn’t touch her.
Suddenly, the old Taoist howled and charged at top speed. Wang Ya sidestepped; he crashed heavily to the ground and lay motionless. Wang Ya saw black qi erupt from his body, burrowing into the asphalt and vanishing underground.
Yin winds then howled around, filled with ghostly wails. Thick Yin Qi dimmed the streetlights to candle flickers.
Wang Ya swiftly leaped to the roadside, forming a Big Dipper Seven Stars Formation and sitting cross-legged within, bell in hand, alert to surroundings.
Suddenly, a pair of icy, venomous eyes glared from the road’s center.
Wang Ya looked up to see a Small-Footed Old Lady in tattered clothes, leaning on a cane, hunched in the dim road’s heart—a humanoid shadow of pure black. Her venomous eyes unnerved like a snake’s stare.
A piercing, cold voice drifted into her ears: “Do you think I can’t deal with you? Mind your own business!”
