Yin Yang Diviner

The early winter wind swept through Liuhe Town, swirling and howling through the cobblestone alleys, carrying withered locust leaves scattered on the ground. The sky was clear, and the cold sun hung high, yet it couldn't dispel the chill in my bones, much like the path I've walked through in this year since I entered the industry, the life-or-death situations I've witnessed, the intertwining of warmth and coldness, which has ultimately settled into a composure etched into my very being.

I walked slowly back from the City God Temple, my canvas bag clutched in my palm. The sharp edges of it rubbed against my skin, but it felt incredibly secure.

Inside the bag were five sheets of rough-edged paper: Mirror, Mirror, Wait, Lie, Return. Five characters, five stages of cultivation, more than three hundred days and nights of fear, struggle, enlightenment and perfection, all sealed within these thin sheets of paper.

"Entering the Dao through character divination, five characters form a scroll." Zhang Huaijing's words still echo in my ears, each word carrying immense weight, laying the foundation for my first year in the profession.

The eight coins at my waist trembled slightly, their golden radiance subdued, and a gentle, earthly energy flowed slowly through my meridians, merging with the yang energy around me.

Old Liu's presence emerged from the alleyway not far away, steady and profound, no longer as elusive as before. It was the confidence nurtured by the Eight Emperors Coins, the certainty of walking side by side.

Looking up, the old house's dark tiles and blue bricks are right in front of you.

The vermilion wooden door was half-closed, and the bare branches of the old locust tree pierced the sky like silent swords, guarding this courtyard that held the secrets of yin and yang.

The wind swept through the courtyard gate, carrying the unchanging sandalwood and cinnabar scent of the main hall. The moment it hit my face, all my restlessness vanished, leaving only a heart full of peace and a sense of belonging.

This is my root, my lineage, and the starting point of my path of Yin and Yang.

I pushed open the door, and my footsteps fell on the bluestone slabs, crisp and steady, breaking the long silence in the courtyard.

Second Grandfather sat at the stone table in the center of the courtyard. His gray cloth robe fluttered in the wind, and his white hair and beard shone with a soft silver light under the cold sun.

He didn't smoke or fiddle with any magical implements. He just sat quietly with his back straight, his gaze fixed on the distant mountains of Liuhe Town. His eyes were deep, as if they held the weight of a hundred years of wind and rain, the great Dao of Yin and Yang, and a silent expectation for me, his disciple.

Beside him lay the camphor wood box, inside which eight old objects lay quietly: a Bagua seal, a copper bell, five emperor coins, a peach wood sword, an ink line, a piece of wood struck by lightning, an ancient mirror that warded off the abyss, and a bronze mirror at the wellhead. Their auras were connected, and they resonated faintly.

Hearing my footsteps, my second grandfather slowly turned around.

Those cloudy yet sharp eyes fell upon me, sweeping from top to bottom, across my eyebrows and eyes, across the energy channels around me, and across the canvas bag clutched tightly in my palm.

Without a word or a question, I could clearly see a faint smile flash across his eyes, a smile hidden deep in his wrinkles—a smile of satisfaction, certainty, and the fulfillment of the lineage's legacy.

I walked to the stone table, bowed deeply, and paid my respects to my teachers, to the years that have passed, and to my own year of spiritual journey of breaking free from my cocoon and transforming into a butterfly.

"Second Grandpa, I'm back."

His voice was calm and even, without any trace of the timidity he had shown at first sight, or the panic he had felt when encountering evil; only the composure that came after weathering storms.

Second Grandfather nodded slightly, his withered fingers gently tapping the stone table, producing a clear, resonant sound in the empty courtyard.

He raised his hand, gesturing for me to sit down. His movements were slow, yet they carried an undeniable authority, as well as the gentleness unique to an elder.

"Have you finished writing the five characters?" he asked, his voice old and hoarse, yet every word resonated deeply.

I placed the canvas bag on the table and carefully took out the five folded sheets of rough-edged paper, lining them up in a row.

The five characters, from their initial awkwardness and tension to their final composure and sophistication, each stroke a testament to growth.

The cold sunlight fell on the paper, the ink was warm and moist, and five wisps of energy quietly rose, echoing the aura of the ritual implements in the camphor wood box, forming a perfect whole.

"I've finished writing," I said softly. "Mr. Zhang said that a five-character scroll is a complete entry into the basics."

"Entry into the beginner stage complete..."

Second Grandfather repeated these four words, his gaze sweeping over the five words, finally settling on the word "return".

"He's right. In this year, you've gone from a rebellious boy who didn't believe in ghosts and gods to someone who believes in the way of Heaven, respects ghosts and gods, and guards his true self. That's enough."

His fingertips brushed across the paper, without touching it, yet a wisp of pure yang energy slowly emanated, calming all the restlessness on the pages.

"Look back."

My second grandfather looked up, gazing out of the courtyard and down the path I had come from. His tone was calm, yet it outlined the trajectory of my entire year.

"In early spring, your father sent you to the old house. You were in a daze and full of resistance, thinking that this profession of Yin and Yang was nothing but feudal superstition. Spring rain startled you from your dream, and evil spirits entered your dream to take your soul. Only then did you realize that there really are evil spirits in the world, and life and death are just a thought away. Childhood memories surged up, and a weasel took your soul. You understood your pure Yin destiny and that you could not escape your fate."

"When the ancestral graves were piled up, a corpse was found when the coffin was opened, and the Yin Corpse Demon was swallowed. For the first time, you faced a life-or-death situation and witnessed the true dangers of Yin and Yang. By observing the Qi and identifying objects, and by nurturing the mirror and swallowing the moon, eight old objects recognized their owners one by one. You understood that objects have souls and should be treated with sincerity. By interpreting characters and observing the heart, you helped others and yourself. Zheng's warm pearl, Xiaoman's character interpretation, and Zhang Jinsheng's scattered thoughts helped you understand the true meaning of magic. It is not about slaying demons and monsters, but about helping the world and bringing peace to people."

Every word he said hit me right where I was in the past.

Those terrifying nights, those moments of sudden enlightenment, the warmth of walking side by side, and the fulfillment of overcoming obsessions—all of these surged into my heart at this moment, converging into a warm torrent that overflowed my chest.

I looked down at my hands. These hands, which used to only play on my phone and drift through life, can now hold a compass, draw talismans, wield law enforcement instruments, and understand people's hearts.

This year, I shed my cynical and impetuous ways and rediscovered my original heart of reverence for heaven and earth.

The fear of being alone has been replaced by companions; the aimless wandering has been replaced by a place that has taken root in the heart.

"This year, you learned to believe."

Second Grandfather's voice rang out again, each word as precious as gold.

"Believe in Yin and Yang, believe in ritual implements, believe in your true self; you have also learned to enter, to enter the Dharma gate, to enter the profession, to enter this Yin-Yang world hidden behind the secular world."

This marked the most solemn end to my more than 300 days of spiritual practice.

I carefully put away the five sheets of rough-edged paper, got up and walked to the camphor wood box, and slowly opened the lid.

Eight old objects came into view: the Zhenyuan Ancient Mirror was warm and radiant, the lightning-struck wood was full of yang energy, the ink line bound yin and yang, and the copper bell contained the charm of guiding souls. Each of these magical artifacts was engraved with my aura and recognized me as its master.

I gently placed the five-character paper package into the box, placing it alongside the eight old items.

The paper's essence blends with the vessel's essence, the human heart resonates with the Dao's heart, and the camphor wood box shimmers with golden light, perfectly complete.

The lightning-struck wood on his chest was slightly warm, the eight emperor coins at his waist resonated softly, and the ancient mirror in his sleeve hummed incessantly. All the magical artifacts, all the obsessions, and all the growth returned to their rightful place at this moment.

Old Liu's footsteps came from outside the courtyard gate. He carried a cloth bag and walked quickly into the courtyard. The eight coins at his waist swayed, his eyebrows relaxed, and his face was full of smiles.

He didn't say much, but simply placed a pot of ginger soup he had personally brewed on the stone table. The warmth emanating from it dispelled the chill of early winter.

This is fireworks, this is humanity, this is the most precious warmth on the path between life and death.

Zhang Jinsheng's greetings, Sister Chen's thanks, Mr. Zheng's reassurance, Xiaoman's smile—faces flashed through my mind. All the side stories came to a perfect end, and all the obsessions were settled.

The courtyard was peaceful; the long wind had subsided, the cool sun warmed the body, and the scent of sandalwood lingered around the beams.

I believe this is the most perfect ending—a peaceful, fulfilling, and serene conclusion.

But my second grandfather's next words suddenly shattered the peace, like a thunderclap, and opened the prelude to my apprenticeship.

He slowly stood up, walked to the old locust tree, stood with his hands behind his back, and looked into the depths of the distant mountains, into the darkness that concealed the secrets of the burial plot, the centuries-old schemes, and the unknown dangers.

"Easy to get started, difficult to pursue advanced studies."

"You have learned the basics of magic; but you have not yet touched the essence of Yin and Yang."

He turned around, his gaze sharp as a knife, landing on me, and spoke each word clearly and forcefully:

"Starting tomorrow, I will teach you the real skills."

"Feng shui seeks the dragon vein, pinpoints the acupoint and determines the pulse; talisman arrays are laid out to trap evil spirits and suppress the soul; spirits and monsters are interacted with to balance yin and yang; worldly affairs are deduced to glimpse destiny."

"You must remember, in this line of work, entry depends on chance, and cultivation depends on life itself. You survived Volume One by luck and the protection of your master; from now on, you must rely on yourself, on your magical implements, and on your true heart to forge your own path through mountains of knives and seas of fire."

My heart suddenly clenched, my fingertips tightened sharply, and all the magical artifacts around me trembled. An unprecedented sense of heaviness swept over my entire body.

I know clearly that the peaceful days are over.

The initial success is merely the calm before the storm.

Second Grandfather raised his hand, pointing to the ground beneath the old house, to the yin vein shrouded by the burial mound, his voice low and heavy, concealing a century-old mystery:

"Furthermore, the person who set up the 'devouring corpse' trap in the ancestral graves back then has never disappeared."

"The remnants of sorcerers, the shadows of the Netherworld Cult, and their scheming hidden in the dark are all eyeing your pure Yin destiny, the magical artifacts in your hands, and the Qin family's legacy."

Having escaped death, we must now face our destiny.

A long wind rose again, whipping the locust leaves into a frenzy. The branches of the old locust tree let out a low, mournful roar. The magical artifact in the camphor wood box shone with golden light, and the energy of the five-character paper packet trembled violently. At this moment, the yin and yang energy fields of the entire old house quietly surged.

I looked up at my second grandfather's back, and at the deep shadows of the distant mountains. There was no fear in my eyes, only an unwavering determination burning brightly.

I raised my hand and touched the camphor wood box, my fingertips tracing over the eight old items, over the five-character paper package, and over all my growth this year.

The days of the unemployed are over; the wandering spirit has taken its place.

I turned around and looked at the main room, at the compass talismans covering the walls, and at the Yin-Yang path that was destined to be filled with danger, yet also destined to be glorious.

The setting sun cast a long shadow of me, overlapping with the shadow of the old locust tree and blending with the golden light of the ritual implements.

The wind is still blowing in Liuhe Town;

The path of Yin and Yang is still being walked;

My spiritual practice will never end.