Chapter Forty-Nine: Encounter with Heavenly Thunder

I warned them repeatedly to remain calm—this formation was designed precisely to make people lose their reason. As long as we kept our emotions under control, the array would collapse on its own. Even as I said this, I had little faith that it would actually fall apart so easily, but I had to say it to steady their nerves.

Ren Tianxing nodded, murmured assent, then abruptly raised his voice several notches and shouted, “Got it!”

At once, I knew something was wrong. The oppressive force of the array had suddenly intensified without our noticing. I realized Morita had begun to activate the array, which was why Ren Tianxing was growing so agitated. Seeing me sitting calmly and silent, Ren Tianxing was furious. He moved closer, seized my collar, and demanded loudly, “What do we do now?”

I ignored him, absorbed in figuring out how to deal with Morita. Of the three who had come out of the Hongmen, one was in my hands, another was Morita—but where was the third? The one hiding in the shadows was perhaps the deadliest; I had to be on guard.

Ren Tianxing gave me a few mocking laughs, mocking my uselessness, and finally released my collar. Yueyue sneered, “Is there any point asking that fool? You’re the cop—why don’t you figure something out yourself?”

Ren Tianxing loaded his gun, clearly provoked by Yueyue’s words. He bit his lip, stood up, and strode toward the door. “Watch how I blow that bastard’s brains out!”

I suddenly extended my arm to block his way. He shouted at me, “Move your hand!” When I didn’t budge, he raised his gun, leveled it at me, and sneered coldly, “If you keep getting in my way, I’ll put a bullet in you for collusion.”

Ren Tianxing’s face was flushed, rage clouding his features; Yueyue was scarcely better, clutching her crucifix as if in prayer. After it had destroyed several zombies, she hadn’t forgotten to retrieve it on our way downstairs—now she held it tightly.

I knew both of them were already consumed by the array, anger overwhelming their usual judgment. Blood was trickling from Ren Tianxing’s nose. I quickly focused my will and silently began chanting the Vajra Sattva demon-quelling mantra. Forming the inner Lion Seal with my hands, I pressed my fingers together. Instantly, both of them shuddered and their movements became sluggish.

Seizing the moment, I switched to the Vajra Sattva Heart Mantra, my mudra shifting from the Lion Seal to the Immovable Wisdom King Seal. Drawing a breath into my abdomen, I expelled it with a sharp “Lin” syllable—a key sound in the “Nine Syllable Secret.” Combined with the energies of heaven and earth, this “Lin” formula stabilizes body and mind, clears the mind, and wards off evil.

As soon as I executed the formula, it took effect. Ren Tianxing and Yueyue snapped awake, exchanging startled glances before quietly sitting down again. Ren Tianxing whispered, “Changfeng, you’d better figure out how to break this formation fast. I’m not sure what I’ll do if I lose control again.”

The array was spinning wildly. I used my own blood to paint a Guanyin sigil between their brows, which would keep them clear-headed for only a short while. This cost me dearly in spiritual energy—casting a protective spell with blood for someone else is a tremendous drain.

As I calculated the array’s trajectory and characteristics, a sudden scream erupted from outside the door—it was Morita’s voice, followed by Wang Tingting’s furious cursing. It seemed Wang Tingting had seized the chance to reverse their fortunes when Morita let down his guard.

Sure enough, the array abruptly ceased. Light flooded the room, the heavy clouds above vanished in an instant, and the locked iron door creaked open.

Wang Tingting entered, almost dragging a shifty old man in coarse hemp robes. Seeing we were unharmed, she grinned broadly, flung Morita aside, and ran toward me, elated.

Ren Tianxing and Yueyue both sighed in relief, standing up as they realized the array had been broken—all thanks to Wang Tingting’s resourcefulness. Who would have thought she had such skills? Ren Tianxing, still seething from the night’s ordeal, kicked Nakamura in the stomach and yanked him upright.

Nakamura, struck and in pain, dared not cry out for fear of further blows. Unsure whether to be relieved or anxious at the collapse of the array, he glanced at Wang Tingting and a flicker of joy passed through his eyes.

I caught that look by chance, just as Wang Tingting ran toward me, arms wide, wanting to hug me. I blushed—so many people present, and this girl was so bold. When had she become so daring?

But if she wasn’t shy, how could I, a typical red-blooded man of the 21st century, possibly balk?

Wang Tingting threw herself into my arms, her soft chest pressing firmly against me—a comfort after the night’s exhaustion. Relief flooded me: at last, we were free.

Her scent filled my nose, and at once my guard went up. My right arm pulled her tighter, but my left hand stealthily formed the Soul Turtle Mudra. Wang Tingting squeezed me and whispered in my ear, her tone tender and affectionate: “Go to hell.”

Wang Tingting had never worn perfume before. When she stayed at my house before we went to Xi’an, I knew she believed a woman’s fragrance should be natural, not artificial. Now, catching a whiff of perfume, I was alarmed—but it was too late to push her away; all I could do was make the Soul Turtle Mudra. As she hissed for me to die, a piercing chill shot up my spine.

A violent crack split us apart. Wang Tingting was hurled backward, while I was thrown against the wall, my head slamming into it. My whole body collapsed against the wall, pain radiating from my skull—I must have landed more awkwardly than I ever had in my life. Dazed, I managed a wry smile at my ridiculous predicament before blacking out.

Even as consciousness faded, I understood I hadn’t dodged in time—this Wang Tingting was a fake. She was undoubtedly the last of the three who had emerged from the Hongmen.

My impact had left me miserable, but she fared even worse. The Soul Turtle Mudra was a last resort, one that would take me three months to recover from. Its virtue lies in halving any mortal injury and returning the other half to the attacker. She hadn’t expected me to see through her ruse, so when she struck, the backlash injured her as well. While I protected my vital points, she was caught off guard, sent rolling across the floor, coughing up blood.

Ren Tianxing and Yueyue rushed to my side, calling my name. In a weak voice, I said, “Be careful—that’s not Wang Tingting, she’s an impostor.”

Ren Tianxing’s eyes grew cold. He drew his gun and fired at the woman, who rolled aside and vanished in a puff of smoke.

“Ninjutsu!” Yueyue gasped.

At once, Nakamura began yelling, “Sakurako! Help me! Sakurako! Baka, baka!” When no one responded, he started cursing.

Sakurako was gone. Ren Tianxing swung his gun toward Morita, but Morita had vanished from where he’d lain. Glancing to the door, I saw Morita trying to sneak away using a crude invisibility technique. I pointed him out to Ren Tianxing, who fired two shots at my cue.

The second bullet struck Morita, who screamed as blood spurted from his right buttock, his spell broken. Clutching his injured rear, he limped desperately forward, cursing, “Baka, baka, you Chinese are so wicked—why do you always aim for my big butt?”

“Shoot his head!” I shouted.

At that, Morita forgot about his butt and clutched his head, scrambling away. Ren Tianxing fired again, but his gun was empty at the worst possible moment.

He reloaded and started after Morita, but suddenly, darkness engulfed us once more. A fierce wind whipped around, blinding us. I called Ren Tianxing back. They supported me, but my head grew heavier and heavier—my collision with the wall had left me dazed, and I drifted into unconsciousness, Yueyue and Ren Tianxing’s anxious voices echoing in my ears.

I dreamed. My father returned to attend my wedding, but I didn’t know who my bride was. I just sensed her moving among the guests in a long, trailing gown. On three tables, incense sticks, gold ingots, and paper money were laid out—reserved seats for friends from the other side.

My father laughed heartily, “Good son, truly worthy of our Wanyan family’s legacy—so young, and already able to break our ancient curse. Now you can marry and have children.” Then his face darkened as he sank into memories, tears falling silently. “If only I’d been as capable at your age, your mother would never have died after giving birth to you. I was too eager, thinking breaking half the curse would be enough.”

Seeing my father’s grief, I wept with him. He’d enjoyed endless glory in his life, but his sole regret was failing to protect his wife. Everyone craves a mother’s love—I had none. I’d known from childhood that my mother was gone, but I’d received a different kind of love: a Buddhist love. Not long after I was born, my father took me to Tibet to have me blessed by monks. He’d visit sporadically, take me away during school breaks, then bring me back—this continued until I finished high school.

I thought of my mother—if she’d lived, surely she would have spared me so much suffering. The thought brought tears streaming down my cheeks, cold against my skin. My father’s voice faded, replaced by Ren Tianxing and Yueyue’s shouts: “Changfeng’s awake!” I couldn’t tell if they were shocked or delighted, but they shouted so loudly when they saw me rouse.

Groggily, I opened my eyes, a sharp pain throbbing in my cheek.

Yueyue pouted, “Ren Tianxing, you’re amazing—Changfeng had just fainted, but two slaps from you woke him right up. That’s some skillful slapping.”

Ren Tianxing chuckled awkwardly, leaning in to whisper to Yueyue, “Shh, don’t let him know.”

So it was Ren Tianxing’s slaps that had woken me—I was furious; he’d ruined my dream wedding. I snorted, “Ugh, why does my face hurt so much? Which wandering ghost smacked me?”

Yueyue stifled a giggle, turning away so I wouldn’t see her laugh. Ren Tianxing grinned sheepishly, acting as if he had nothing to do with it. I had to admire his thick skin—he wouldn’t dare admit it after my indirect rebuke.

I’d barely been awake a few minutes when the array changed again. The sky was now completely overcast, layer upon layer of black and gray clouds, lightning flickering within.

My face hardened. “Damn it, you set up a Heavenly Thunder Array and left me no way out!”

The Heavenly Thunder Array was different from any other—a formation that summoned storms to smite people with lightning, drawing clouds overhead to strike within the confines of the array.

Yueyue was aghast. “What? Someone can actually control the weather?”

She explained that her SUPPER organization had once found an ancient book describing people who could alter the weather by sheer force of will. They’d dismissed it as myth, even after years of research and enormous investments of manpower and funds. The only tangible achievement was artificial rainfall—creating rain by dispersing special carbon dioxide ice from planes to trigger chemical reactions in the clouds. In recent years, they’d managed artificial snow too. But to see someone change the weather at will—this was beyond belief, beyond comprehension. In a single night, she’d witnessed the power of arrays, uncanny and supernatural events, and now, the stuff of ancient texts was playing out before her very eyes.

I looked at her excitement and laughed. “This is just the tip of the iceberg in Chinese esoteric studies. There’s much more that you can’t even imagine. Sometimes science can explain phenomena, but its scope is far too limited.”

Yueyue nearly fainted at my words, only for Ren Tianxing to catch her as she swooned.

The Heavenly Thunder Array was already in motion. Dense clouds swirled around us. I drew a Taiji diagram on the ground, one side yin, the other yang, and told everyone to place all metal objects on the yin side, while we sat on the yang side.

Ren Tianxing placed his gun, bullets, watch, phone, and everything else—Yueyue did the same—on the yin side.

I shot him a glare. “If you want to stay alive, you’d better put every single metal object over there—every single one.”

“Even this?” Ren Tianxing hesitated, reluctantly placing the ancient pistol he’d gotten from Yueyue—after all, it had survived thousands of years—and finally laid it on the yin side as well.