PD -Chapter 4 The Spirit-Subduing Ruler

The three of us headed back upstairs and quietly entered Tang Shanshan’s apartment. Tang Shanshan and I remained in the living room while I motioned for Liu Xiaopeng, dressed in a pink dress, to go into the bedroom.

Though reluctant, Liu Xiaopeng had already committed himself and had no chance to back out now. Covering his face with a silk scarf, he carefully opened the door and slipped inside.

Once he was in, I took out my laptop.

Using Tang Shanshan’s Wi-Fi, I connected the computer to the infrared camera we had set up in the bedroom—one capable of capturing images even in complete darkness.

This allowed us to monitor everything happening inside from outside the room. The moment that thing appeared, I would rush in and deal with it together with Liu Xiaopeng.

I gently placed the laptop on the table.

Then I pulled a measuring tape from my bag and gripped it tightly.

Most designers nowadays use laser distance meters when measuring rooms and drawing plans. Even the less sophisticated ones use retractable steel tape measures. Yet I still carried an old-fashioned flexible tape measure.

It looked unremarkable, but in truth it was one of my most treasured tools.

The tape had been soaked in saltwater, and beneath every measurement mark were inscribed forbidden-incantation characters recorded in the Profound Heavenly Mysteries Record, teachings supposedly passed from the Daoist master Iron-Crowned Daoist Xulingzi to Liu Bowen.

Within Daoism, spells, hand seals, and ritual footwork are among the most fundamental methods of performing mystical arts.

Practitioners use talismans, incantations, hand signs, and ritual movements to cast spells and strengthen their confidence in overcoming evil. What are known as forbidden incantations are essentially the mantras commonly spoken of in folklore—mysterious words believed to influence spirits, gods, and even natural forces.

These incantations are often combined with arts used to restrain spirits and supernatural entities, collectively known as forbidden spells.

Common characters include:

“Capture,” “Bind,” “Battle,” “Command,” “Swift,” and so on.

At this point, some people might ask:

How could just a few written characters possibly possess such power and enable people to overcome evil?

There was actually quite a bit of reasoning behind it.

Throughout thousands of years of Chinese civilization, written characters have played an indispensable role.

In Daoist tradition, there is even a deity associated with writing—the ancestor of Chinese script, Cangjie, who laid the foundation of civilization by creating the written language.

Legend says that Cangjie was born extraordinary, possessing a dragon-like face and four eyes. Endowed with profound wisdom, he could perceive the realms of Heaven, Earth, Humanity, and Spirits.

The Huainanzi records:

“When Cangjie completed the characters, grain rained from the heavens, and ghosts cried throughout the night…”

The story goes that Cangjie observed the stars above, the patterns on turtle shells, the tracks of birds and beasts, and the forms of mountains and rivers. Inspired by these, he created pictographic writing.

On the day the characters were completed, the entire nation rejoiced. Heaven itself was moved, causing grain to rain down from the sky, while ghosts, terrified by the birth of written language, wailed through the night.

Because of this, Daoists believe that every Chinese character bears the blessing of Emperor Cangjie, the four-eyed sage.

As such, each character inherently possesses a certain power to repel evil.

Combined with chanting and talismans, these characters can become the foundation of arts used to subdue demons and banish spirits.

Traditional Daoist forbidden incantations, however, are extremely troublesome to perform.

Not only must one draw talismans and chant spells, but one must also memorize complex hand seals and ritual footwork.

I simplified the entire system.

I took hundreds of forbidden-incantation characters and arranged them beneath the markings of the tape measure in different sequences.

That way, I could adapt to any situation by simply pulling out a section containing the appropriate combination of characters. It saved time and eliminated the need to memorize lengthy chants.

A perfect two-in-one solution.

I named this tool the Spirit-Subduing Ruler—a name signifying its ability to suppress demons and conquer evil.

Gripping the ruler tightly, I brought up the camera feed on the laptop.

On the screen…

Liu Xiaopeng, wearing the red dress, cautiously curled up on Tang Shanshan’s bed and pretended to be asleep, occasionally shifting slightly.

We waited in front of the monitor for quite some time, but nothing unusual appeared.

Just as Tang Shanshan was beginning to lose patience, I suddenly noticed the screen flicker twice, as though some force were interfering with the signal.

The image quickly returned.

But now the entire picture had become warped and distorted.

The bedroom’s layout, every object within it—even Liu Xiaopeng lying on the bed in his pink dress—appeared twisted into bizarre shapes.

The sight was enough to make one’s scalp tingle.

I knew exactly what was happening.

The distortion was being caused by powerful electromagnetic interference emitted by the shadowy entity.

Once this phenomenon appeared, it meant our bait had taken the hook.

Tang Shanshan and I exchanged a glance.

Taking a deep breath, I fixed my eyes on the screen. Every muscle in my body tensed.

The moment that shadow revealed itself, I would charge into the room with the Spirit-Subduing Ruler and subdue it alongside Liu Xiaopeng.

Before he entered the bedroom, I had already instructed him:

If the thing appeared, splash the basin of saltwater hidden beneath the bed directly at it.

I trusted he could manage at least that much.

The saltwater wouldn’t be enough to destroy the creature completely…

But it should still injure it and slow its movements.

The monitor flickered again under our watchful gaze.

Then the image stabilized.

And suddenly, before the previously empty space beside the bed, a vague humanoid shadow appeared.

The figure was distorted and unstable, almost as though it were made of sand blown from a desert.

Its entire body seemed composed of countless grain-like particles, creating a deeply unsettling sight.

At least, that was how it appeared through the camera.

Whether the effect was caused by image noise or whether the creature truly looked that way, I couldn’t tell.

But this was hardly the time to worry about its appearance.

My expression hardened.

I sprang to my feet.

Pulling out a section of forbidden-incantation characters from the Spirit-Subduing Ruler, I wrapped it around my arm and shouted:

“By the law of Heaven—execute immediately!”

Then I rushed into the bedroom.

The sequence of characters wrapped around my arm formed a spell known as the Demon-Burning Incantation.

This forbidden spell consumed a tremendous amount of the caster’s yang energy.

The energy would be gathered and vibrated, generating intense heat specifically effective against malevolent spirits and capable of reducing them to ashes.

The instant I activated the incantation, a wave of coldness swept through my entire body.

Only my right arm—the one wrapped with the Spirit-Subduing Ruler—remained warm.

A gentle heat began gathering there.

The veins across my arm bulged violently, tearing apart my sleeve.

My entire arm was exposed to the air.

At the same time, faint blue flames began flickering around it.

Oddly enough, I felt no burning sensation whatsoever.

No pain.

No discomfort.

Only an overwhelming surge of power filling my arm.

Of course, every forbidden spell came with a price.

This one was no exception.

Using it would consume a significant amount of my yang energy.

But for a living person—especially someone like me, who frequently used forbidden incantations—that wasn’t a major issue.

Yang energy could always be replenished later.

At worst, I’d simply become more susceptible to catching a cold over the next week.