C7 Eight Trigrams of the Forest

I snuffed out the flames from the ritual paper and, with Wang Dali in tow, headed toward the source of the crying. It was coming from the northwest of the woods, a direction associated with Yin, so it wasn't unusual for malevolent entities to emerge from there.

I knew it was a ghost's wail because its cries were more sorrowful than any human's. Even in their deepest despair, humans retain a sense of purpose, but a ghost has long since passed from this world. As a result, not even the most skilled professional mourners could outdo the sheer desolation of a ghost's lament.

Moreover, when a ghost cries, its energy subtly vibrates, resonating with the human soul and involuntarily inducing a desire to weep. This is how many ghosts ensnare their victims.

But I had my own methods to counter such tricks. I pulled out some Yunxiang from my bag and dusted it over both Wang Dali's and my head. Yunxiang is known for its ability to ward off evil spirits; it was traditionally used to purify brides as they stepped down from their wedding carriages.

As we reached the northwest part of the forest, the unsettling sensation lessened, and the ghostly wails grew clearer, yet we still hadn't located the weeping spirit.

"Wang Xu, I hear it—it's still crying. It feels like it's right next to me! Ah!!"

If anyone had been passing by, they would have witnessed the towering Wang Dali hopping about in terror among the pines, hands clamped over his scalp, performing an odd dance. In reality, the area around him was spotless; even with my ability to see spirits, I saw nothing. His fear was entirely self-induced.

"Dali... Dali, keep your cool. I'm here."

Having reassured Wang Dali, I couldn't help but furrow my brow. The truly frightening thing wasn't the presence of a horde of malevolent spirits; rather, it was the absence of anything at all, coupled with the persistent echo of crying in our ears.

I roamed the vicinity for a while until I reached the spot where the crying was loudest and most distinct—a tree on the very edge of the pine forest. This pine was indistinguishable from the others, save for its sparser branches, which was typical for trees on the forest's perimeter. There was nothing unusual about it.

What really raised my suspicions was the observation that the trees in the pine forest grew increasingly robust from the outskirts to the center, with a growth pattern so uniform it was as if an invisible hand were guiding them.

"Dali, there's something off about this pine forest. Come with me."

I led Wang Dali on a comprehensive walk around the perimeter of the pine forest, taking notes on its shape and the number of trees in each section, as well as their condition.

The forest was octagonal, just as the villagers had described, with 108 trees. But these trees weren't randomly scattered; they followed a specific pattern.

"Qian, Kun, Kan, Li, Dui, Zhen, Xun, Gen—these are the Eight Trigrams. It looks like that Taoist priest from years ago was no charlatan..."

Typically, evil spirits are more likely to arise in the west and north. The west is home to the White Tiger Fierce Star, associated with slaughter and bloodshed, which explains the saying about sending one's enemies to the western paradise—a term that originally didn't refer to an actual paradise. In the north, the lack of sunlight and the absence of the Sun Star's suppressive influence make it easier for malevolent beings to thrive.

However, our village is fortunate to have a small hill to the north, shaped like a massive tortoise, which effectively blocks any malevolence from that direction. As a result, the west has become the area most laden with malevolent energy. Yet, there have been no incidents in the western part of the village for years, likely thanks to this forest.

This forest is a vast Eight Trigrams formation, with an arrangement so peculiar that even Zhou and I, who have studied the Five Elements and Eight Trigrams extensively, can't decipher it. Nonetheless, it appears to effectively contain the village's malevolent, evil, and misfortune energies, which explains the unsettling feeling the pine forest evokes.

"Dali, I've figured it out!"

Wang Dali looked puzzled.

"Huh? Figured out what? And what was that you were saying earlier? Do you need a vest? My dad has one if you want to borrow it."

I've given up trying to comment on Wang Dali's blunt honesty and his endearing cluelessness, especially considering that Little Feng from the next village has taken a liking to him. It just goes to show that having a father who's the village chief can mean growing up a bit faster than the rest of us.

"Quickly, head to the eight directions of the woods and fetch me a small pine branch from each," I instructed.

One thing about Wang Dali is that once you prove you're more capable, he's incredibly obedient. He returned in no time, panting with the branches in hand, and quite proud of his work. I figured those eight branches could probably keep my stove burning for a week.

I asked him which branch corresponded to which direction. Then, following the layout of the original Bagua map of the pine forest, I placed them around the tree from which we'd heard the eerie wailing, each in one of the eight directions. After that, I had Wang Dali close his eyes while I used a stick to dig vigorously at the base of the tree, creating a small hole.

But when I dug where I thought the true Bagua formation was, nothing happened, which made me doubt myself. Had I made a mistake?

Meanwhile, Wang Dali, eyes still shut, began to fidget uneasily.

"Wang Xu, can I open my eyes for a sec? I need to pee..."

It's true what they say: a lazy donkey always seems to need to relieve itself at the most inconvenient times. But I couldn't let him open his eyes yet; I had to maintain the authority I had established. However, his need to urinate sparked a realization. Perhaps that's why digging at the formation's focal point hadn't worked. So, I pulled him over to the hole I'd dug.

"Just keep your eyes closed and pee right here!"

With my astute direction, Wang Dali managed to aim perfectly into the pit.

Then something miraculous occurred. White smoke began to billow from the hole, enveloping a large swath of the surrounding area—about an eighth of the entire pine forest, precisely the section associated with the Kan Trigram in which we were located.

The pine forest was designed in accordance with the Eight Trigrams, and our section corresponded with 'Kan,' which symbolizes water in the Bagua. That explained the crying sounds. I had merely found the formation's focal point and encircled it with branches from other areas, without using water as the connecting element, which is why no strange phenomena had appeared.

After Wang Dali relieved himself, the obscured section of the pine forest was fully exposed. Amidst the dissipating white smoke, I could already make out the vague shapes of ghosts...

"Wang Xu, can I open my eyes now? Keeping them shut this whole time is kind of freaking me out..." Wang Dali said with a hint of fear in his voice.

Only after the white smoke had completely cleared, revealing the forest's true form, did I give Wang Dali the nod.

"Now, you can open your eyes..."

Relieved, Wang Dali opened his eyes wide. He then plopped down on the ground and screamed at the top of his lungs:

"Ahhh!!! What in the world are these things? Look at that... his intestines are hanging out...

And that one, is he chewing on his own eyeballs like they're bubblegum?

They're terrifying! Why can't they just stay dead? Don't let them look at me!!!"

Without a word, I pulled out two talismans from my bag and placed them on the ground in front of us, creating a barrier to mask our presence. Then, with a sense of resignation, I shared the harsh truth with Wang Dali:

"They've been dead for a while. Remember what we're here for... You know the drill."