Chronicles of an Old-School Taoist: Wandering the World of Ghosts

I once thought the Taoist path was old-fashioned. I fell out with Uncle Jiu and left the country.

When I returned, it was to mourn him.

The mourning hall was bone-chillingly cold. The candles flickered for no reason, and a big dog growled at empty space.

A Le seemed to want to speak but held back. Su Wan looked uneasy. Beneath the offering table, traces of yin energy lingered.

Only then did I understand that Uncle Jiu’s death was suspicious.

The old matters of yin and yang I had desperately fled from back then

now clung to me, one by one.

The copper coin pendant grew hot, a yin object watched from the shadows, and someone was closing in on me at every turn.

I didn’t want to run away anymore.

This time, I would take up the skills of the Taoist tradition,

find out how Uncle Jiu died, and protect this old street.