Chapter 23
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Closed Umbrella Fairy: My Child is Not a Girl (4)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
The title of Witch Dance Master sounded grandiose, but even when performing exorcisms in this rural village, it amounted to nothing more than dancing before an altar screened off by a folding partition.
The Witch Dance itself was just like this: piling up firewood at night to light a bonfire, with villagers gathered around staring into the flames. On top of that, they would burn a few belongings of the person being consoled, along with jangbang paper.
Jangbang was paper inscribed with the name and life story of the deceased, used as a substitute when there was no body or spirit tablet. But how many rural folk could even write their own names, let alone jot down a full biography on paper?
Typically, it was a simplified affair: family members of the deceased would hold a talisman crafted by the Shrine Maiden, call out the departed's name, say words left unsaid in life as a farewell, then burn the talisman. The rite concluded with a dance purely for consolation.
In rural villages, it was rare for someone to die without their body being found. That's why, though the village had handed down rites for such spirit consolations, they were rarely performed and had settled into this crude, simple form.
But this time, to use as material for the Corpse Ghosts, they had fed the bodies to the tiger, leaving no remains among the villagers. There was no choice but to hold this ceremony.
Still, the difference this time was that Yuyeon, who knew how to write, jotted down the names of the families and life stories as people dictated them.
Sitting by the fire to write the names, Yuyeon could feel the heat of the flames through her body rather than Divine Sense, sensing just how fiercely it burned and how much kindling was fueling it.
The number of villagers who died this time was roughly twenty. Considering the Corpse Ghosts led by the shaman numbered over a hundred, other villages must have suffered a few losses too.
For those souls without family to console them, Yuyeon wrote the words herself. Unable to communicate with spirits, she couldn't know each one's name or story, so she simply infused the paper with heartfelt words of comfort before burning it. The teacher watched her.
「You have more sentiment than I expected.」
With villagers around, Yuyeon couldn't reply aloud and instead used mental transmission like the teacher. But it was harder to use than she'd thought.
「It's not some grand affection. My heart just moved me. Now that I'm the only one who knows they're gone, this much is no trouble at all.」
Once the last person's jangbang was burned in this simplified rite, Jang Jina stepped forward in her Shrine Maiden garb as before. This time, she carried no ritual implements—just a long cloth. Yuyeon watched from a slight distance with the villagers.
「Shaking bells noisily at night would only invite misfortune instead.」
Sensing her curiosity, the teacher spoke first.
"You know so much about these rituals. Is it because you're a monk of the faith?"
Yuyeon assumed this teacher, once called a divine spirit, must be a faith monk.
「No, I'm not a faith monk. I'm a living being, so not a monk at all, and my true nature isn't that of a divine messenger either. I've just accumulated miscellaneous knowledge from my readings. Perhaps that's why the Insight Heart Tribulation came upon me.」
As the main Witch Dance began in earnest, people burned jangbang and prayed, generating Incense Fire Merit as before. Yuyeon drew it toward herself with practiced ease.
「To think you can truly wield Incense Fire... Well, it never made sense for a living faith monk to condense a Dao Heart through Ghost Dao enlightenment in the first place. You really are beyond all common sense.」
Yuyeon saw herself as existing within the afterlife, so she knew she was special and different. But she'd never considered her handling of Incense Fire or Ghost Dao as particularly extraordinary.
The teacher, having observed her battle with the aberrant entity, found her talents bizarre to the extreme but not entirely unique in the world.
Impressive for her realm and age, yes—but ultimately, her five elements spells, spectral marriage arts, and spirit-summoning were just borrowing higher harmonies of the Dao at a lower level.
That's why the teacher had initially assumed Yuyeon was a high-rank Ghost Dao monk reborn after leaving the order. Why else would a future great originator of a single spiritual root Entrance Stage prodigy of age eight be fighting freaks alone here?
Yet the more he learned, the clearer it became: among her exceptional abilities, her Ghost Dao enlightenment enabling Orthodox Dao practices via Incense Fire was surely unique to her.
「You're a child I wouldn't even know where to begin unraveling. Sigh...」
Though they had more to say, time was up. With ample Incense Fire gathered, Yuyeon clasped her hands as before. The Shrine Maiden clasped hers first, and the villagers followed, praying for the souls' peace.
Yuyeon formed a flame of merit power and sent it skyward.
This time, to send up a vast host of souls, she gathered far greater merit than for Heavenly Ascension before, fueling an even brighter fire. If the previous one had been like floating lanterns, this was like fireworks rising to the heavens—though very slowly.
As Yuyeon opened the path, heaven responded once more. The sky parted as before, revealing a vision of clear skies, and the souls clustered at Yuyeon's feet began ascending one by one.
Like a sky lantern festival, the sight of over a hundred souls drifting upward etched itself vividly into Yuyeon's mind. Even beyond Divine Sense's range, the scene remained clear; with her distant vision, she beheld the beauty and found herself entranced without realizing it.
Once all the souls had vanished, silence fell over the shaded Yang Mountain under the moonlight, leaving only two spirits behind.
One was the soul of the great tiger that had devoured Yang Mountain and suffered true calamity. The other was the soul of the fallen ascetic who had devoured that tiger in turn.
Yuyeon had no desire to bind them, nor to grant them Heavenly Ascension; she simply observed what choice they would make.
Then one spirit stepped forward first: the once-shaman's soul, which hesitated on the path to ascension. It seemed to glance at Yuyeon—or perhaps at the heavens.
With the path Yuyeon had opened soon to close, she finally spoke.
"If you're minding my gaze, pay it no heed. I don't know what other sins you committed in life, or what good deeds. Even if I did, it wouldn't change anything.
You're already dead; I won't judge you for the afterlife and impose punishment to cleanse it—nor could I. I simply pray that, if you gain another life, you avoid needless paths to the same end. This is my sincere wish."
The shaman's soul listened fully, paused, then ultimately did not take the soul's path. Nor did it return beneath Yuyeon's shade.
It lingered briefly under the moonlight before fading toward the underworld. Like mist dispersing, it sank into the earth—the same as the young master's soul before.
Yuyeon still didn't see herself as a hellish judge qualified to condemn sins, nor as a compassionate bodhisattva obligated to shelter and benefit the world.
Then why go to such lengths to console souls and grant afterlife chances? She'd pondered this once with the young master's soul but gained no answer, leaving the choice to him.
Before the nagging doubts could coil further, Yuyeon scattered them herself—as if weary of fruitless rumination without answers.
Setting rigid principles for any matter inevitably hits limits eventually. A judge revises laws, a ruler reforms systems—but can a cultivator bend their Dao?
Better not to establish principles at all, remaining unbound by change. Thus, cultivators need a Dao Heart.
Yuyeon too set no immutable rules, simply helping and offering chances as her heart moved her.
Just as she dwelled in the afterlife, if others seized such opportunities and found value, it would gladden her.
"Won't you go?"
The great tiger's soul, last in the shadows, stepped forward. Like the shaman's, it left Yuyeon's shade; she first thought this demon too would choose the underworld, as ascension had closed.
But the demon lingered, circling her without departing. Puzzled by its intent, Yuyeon wondered.
「This one wishes to serve you.」
Yuyeon desperately wanted to sit it down and ask why—if only she could communicate with spirits. How frustrating.
Her first ordeal after running away had been this Corpse Ghost mess, leaving her with a poor impression of spirit-binding. The thought of commanding souls repelled her.
"But I don't want to command another's soul."
「Then leave it be; it'll head to the underworld soon enough.」
Hearing this softened her a bit. But she couldn't force what didn't sit right. Perhaps a hint of insight pointing a better way might sway her. Was this because her Dao Heart wasn't yet firm?
「A pity. You have a fine spirit vessel ready, and this tiger soul would make an excellent magic tool.」
Yuyeon's heart stirred. Until now, she'd acted from pure goodwill toward the villagers, heedless of gain. But her nature was to weigh pros and cons for the optimal choice without hesitation—and still was.
Fill her heart and bolster her strength? What better option for her? Though she'd already decided inwardly, she didn't want to seem swayed and retorted once.
"But I don't know how to refine spirits or craft magic tools. I can't even wield a sword."
「The latter issues resolve themselves once the tiger makes your ghost sword its vessel—no need to worry. As for spirit-refining... try it yourself. If it fails, it's a soul you wouldn't have accepted anyway—no loss.」
Thanks for solving my dilemma, old coot. But thanking him aloud would drain his mental energy for the response, so Yuyeon stayed silent, drawing the ghost sword from her shade.
Having briefly hosted the teacher before, it was now an empty shell without an owner. No longer able to fly heavenward ownerless, Yuyeon gripped the hilt and extended it.
"I don't know why you wish to serve me. I won't do anything for you. Depart whenever you will—that is your freedom."
The tiger soul unhesitatingly seeped into the sword. In Yuyeon's Divine Sense visualizing its structure, she felt it settle at the core.
Pondering the meaning of ghost-refining, insight dawned on how to proceed.
Her spiritual energy flowed from her spiritual vein into the sword, linking her soul to the tiger's. Her Divine Sense probed the connection, reaching deep within the tiger soul.
In that instant, faint emotions stirred within. As Yuyeon infused her energy, she drew it out simultaneously.
Like water through a channel between them, it flowed to settle deep in her spiritual vein. Thus, a complete bond formed.
Yuyeon hadn't realized it before, but she'd already refined the Seven Shades White Thread once before. This was no challenge—just her first time with a conscious entity.
The teacher knew this and thus urged her to try, but out of concern for her enlightenment, he refrained from mentioning past memories or experiences.
'Not difficult after all.'
Though he said nothing, the teacher perceived she'd grasped insight in that instant and mastered ghost-refining alone.
What would faith monks feel, upon seeing this, after buying manuals, expending spiritual energy, practicing endlessly, and meditating in Qi Refining? Their Dao Hearts might shatter. The teacher was grateful for his own lack thereof.
With the last soul resolved, Yuyeon felt unburdened. Nothing more to do here. She turned to leave but decided to bid proper farewell to Jang Jina, with whom she'd shared personal exchanges.
The villagers and Jang Jina finished praying and looked up; Yuyeon approached her quietly and whispered.
"Then I'll be off. It was a brief but pleasant connection—at least for me."
"It's the dead of night; you're leaving now?"
As a mortal, Jang Jina judged by common sense: work by day, sleep by night. Her unwitting reply carried inner disappointment.
But reconsidering, the vast gap between her mortal self and this divine spirit—perhaps even fairy—meant mortal norms didn't apply. Feeling apologetic, she bowed her head.
Even the cultivation world followed human rhythms: work by day, cultivate by night, sleeping a day or two weekly—or monthly past Determination Stage.
But Yuyeon, a runaway without enemies amid free mountains and rivers, simply reversed norms: sleeping by day, wandering by night.
Seeing Jang Jina bow, Yuyeon felt an odd sensation—different from prior prostrations. Not worship.
The villagers too had keen eyes, knowing Yuyeon was no mortal from her arrival, and especially when writing jangbang. Grateful, they bowed in thanks.
Watching briefly, Yuyeon decided to share her fulfillment from the well-resolved matter and bid formal farewell to all.
"Everyone. I'm no divine spirit, immortal, nor buddha come to save you. Just a wandering traveler who ate your food and handled this alone as payment. Feel no more gratitude, offer no more offerings. Let this conclude all between us."
With those final words, Yuyeon folded her umbrella and activated Concealing Form Formation. Her form blurred, presence faded, until she seemed neither there nor gone.
Even as Yuyeon departed lightly, the villagers remained unaware she'd left or been there.
Word of this spread mouth-to-mouth over time, gaining a name and flesh to become legend: a fairy cloaked in closed umbrella and mountain garb, who aided the village in its darkest hour.
Thus was born the tale of the Closed Umbrella Fairy.
But how could Yuyeon, setting off on distant roads, know this? Merely imagined—if she'd heard the anecdote, she'd have replied thus:
Closed Umbrella Fairy (瞑傘仙女): My Child is Not a Girl (吾子非女).
She was no woman, but a young master.