The Era of Turbid Qi in the Twenty-Second Century

Other cultivators rely on meditation. I rely on my electric scooter. Li Qiuchi of the Seventh Branch of the Binhai City Taoist Association spends his days riding a tiny scooter plastered with talismans all over town to catch ghosts. He also holds the bottom spot in the association’s monthly rankings, year after year.

Then one day, the tainted energy readings on the thirtieth underground level of Nanwan District went off the charts.

An unknown creature was stirring. Identical abnormal fluctuations were detected underground in seven cities across the country.

My master had been missing for three years. All he left behind was a coin, with two words carved on the back: “Come quickly.”

From Binhai City to Mount Kunlun, from the Grave of Ten Thousand Demons to the Dragon Tomb

A Taoist whose powers were sealed, an engineering student who drew talismans with technology, a logistics expert with every line of information at their fingertips, a ghost father and daughter, an old dragon that had slept for hundreds of years, a gray-robed man who had guarded a tomb for two thousand years, and an action-team captain whose sleeve’s silver threads were all extinguished but whose stance remained ramrod straight.

They had to repair an ancient seal stretching across seven cities and spanning four thousand years before it collapsed.

And the eye in my chest was getting closer and closer to opening.

“As long as someone remembers me, as long as there is even a trace of fear left in this world, I will never disappear.”

“Then do you remember your own name now?”