He had at last taken the first step.
No wonder Zhuge Mingyue never esteemed the Qi-Wielding Method. It was merely a rudimentary breath-regulation practice—akin, if one must draw a comparison, to the gentle Tai Chi embraced by the elderly. Tai Chi cultivates health; this technique purported to subdue spirits, with the collateral benefit of strengthening the body. Having at last perceived the presence of Qi, Mo Lin prepared to advance: mastering the use of the Thunder Talisman.
The art of the Thunder Talisman unfolds in three stages. First comes Summoning Lightning, the foundational rite. Next is Lightning Mastery, in which one envelops one's body in crackling bolts to ward off attacks. The final stage merges both incantations, summoning and mastering lightning in harmonious tandem.
Mo Lin channeled his Qi into the talisman. It stirred in his palm, alive and elusive like a fish slipping through his fingers. He focused his Qi until the artifact brimmed with latent power. Aiming toward the courtyard, he released it.
With a thunderous crash, lightning descended, utterly shattering a potted flower. Such was the might of the true Thunder Talisman—far exceeding the counterfeit charm Zhuge Mingyue once waved. Mo Lin could not help but admire its creator: Qi control was but a means; these talismans were the true treasures. Their summoned lightning rivaled the Netherfire of the Underworld—though still yet a measure beneath that divinely forged flame.
A harsh voice rang from the door: "Open up… now!" Its impatience grated on Mo Lin's ears. Who would disturb him at this hour? Begrudgingly, he opened the door.
Before him stood a woman whose hair was coiffed high, two locks framing her delicate cheeks like strokes in an ink painting. Her brows arched with refined elegance, her ash-gray robes contrasting with her aura of ire. The moment she saw him, she planted her hands on her hips and glared.
She raised her palm, summoning a blossom of rose-tinted flame. "Speak, or I'll burn your house to cinders—believe that?" Mo Lin froze, tongue-tied by shock. "You…I… I…" Panic rendered him speechless.
The pink flame surged, engulfing her in a column of fire over a meter high. "Surprised to see me?" she demanded.
"Utterly…utterly surprised," he stammered, heart pounding. How had she found him here?
She held his gaze. "Do you remember me?"
"Of course," he managed. She was Cui Xinyun, disciple of the Naihe Bridge and keeper of the Scarlet Lotus Karma Flames. Though a mortal, her soul spent seven days each month in the Underworld—just as Mo Lin once did as a spirit courier. He had met her there, captured and tormented her bitterly before sparing her, driven by arrogance and her rare beauty among the grotesque ghosts.
Now, wielding the Scarlet Lotus Flame, she sought vengeance. "I never believed you'd walk the world of the living," she said.
"Nor did I expect you to be mortal," he countered.
"I came to Yunchuan on assignment," she explained, "and heard your name mentioned. I discovered you were the same rogue who humiliated me below. The only mystery is how a spirit returned to life."
Her flames flickered ominously. "Stay back!" he warned.
"In broad daylight, what will you do?" he called. "Film me and post it online—accuse me of bullying an innocent?" With trembling fingers, Mo Lin drew his phone, recording the scene.
Realizing the precariousness of public scandal, Cui Xinyun's flames receded. "What do you want?" he demanded.
"Isn't it obvious?" she replied with cold resolve. "I've come to settle the score—to avenge the indignity you inflicted upon me all those years ago."
o4-mini