My name is Li Laosi. I'm a spirit-medium from a small village in Northeast China, and I've tended the family shrine for years. I usually rely on the spirits to help my neighbors deal with strange occurrences, and life has been fairly peaceful. But lately, everything has changed. I died on the night the baleful energy of the north turned against me, my soul shattering like incense ash scattered across the ground.
When I opened my eyes again, I was Zhou Xiangrui, a girl from the Zhou family of Lingnan, born with an extremely yin fate.
My mother died giving birth to me. My father always looked at me with fear, and only my grandfather used herbs and copper coins to suppress the yin energy clinging to me.
When I was twelve, it came.
A sleek, golden-furred weasel crouched on my doorstep. Its black eyes were like two balls of ink frozen solid as it knocked on the faded black-lacquered wooden door of my home.
Three knocks awakened memories of my sealed past life:
I had once been Li Laosi, a spirit-medium at a shrine in Northeast China, and I had died in a bloody feud.
It wanted me to establish a shrine again and fulfill the unfinished pact.
I dodged it, ran from it, and screamed at the empty air in the Northeastern dialect, “I already died once!”
That is, until the evil cultivator called Xuansha came looking for me. His bony fingers nearly crushed my throat.
At the brink of death, the Yellow Immortal's cold thought pierced my mind: “Establish the shrine, or die.”
I knelt on the filthy floor of a cheap inn, facing north, using my finger as incense.
As a vast, wild force surged into my meridians, I knew that from then on, the name Zhou Xiangrui would be swallowed by the title “spirit-medium.”
But one strange event followed another:
A self-made businesswoman came begging me to save her brain-dead boyfriend, offering three hundred thousand yuan;
A short-haired Taoist priestess named Nan Ci came in with the fresh breeze of the mountains, entering my yin energy
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