"Nine-Stroke Talisman"

Chapter 24: The Nine Obstacles

When Shen Moyan woke from the depths of his consciousness, it was already light.

He sat at his workbench, soaked through with sweat. Four voices argued in his head—Zhu Quan demanding to know why Hu Sanniang hadn't spoken earlier, Wang Qizhen urging calm, Zhang Sanfeng asking about the nine obstacles, Hu Sanniang answering point by point.

"What are the nine obstacles?" Shen Moyan interrupted.

Hu Sanniang's voice sounded:

"One stroke, one obstacle. First obstacle—the ancients inside you. You got through it. Second obstacle—Lu Jiuyuan. You haven't yet. Third obstacle—the resentment. You've started. Fourth obstacle—my father. You have to go down and kill him. Fifth through ninth obstacles—I don't know, but each one will be harder than the last."

"What happens if I don't get through?"

"Death." Hu Sanniang said it calmly. "Or becoming someone else. Like Lu Jiuyuan."

Shen Moyan was silent.

He thought of Lu Jiuyuan—the one with 127 Taoists' memories inside him, not knowing who he was, relying on "Forgetfulness Powder" to sleep every night.

Would he become like that?

"No." Hu Sanniang said. "With me here, you won't. I can help you suppress those things. But first you have to help me kill my father."

Shen Moyan stood up and walked to the window.

Outside, Chenghuang Temple Back Street was coming alive. Breakfast vendors, people out for walks, office workers heading to work—people coming and going. None of them knew that a few hundred meters away, at the bottom of that well, a two-thousand-year-old demon was waiting to get out.

And none of them knew that the young man looking out the window had four ancients living in his head and countless debts waiting to be repaid.

He looked at his hands. The black on his fingertips was nearly at the fourth knuckle.

Third stroke just completed, and the fourth obstacle was already on its way.

"Hu Sanniang," he asked, "how strong is your father?"

Hu Sanniang was silent for a moment, then said:

"Two thousand years of cultivation. Ate forty-seven people, one of them a Taoist at the Master level. How strong do you think?"

Shen Moyan said nothing.

Zhang Shouyi went down at the Master level—came back half ruined.

Lu Jiuyuan's master went down at the Master level—died.

He was only at three strokes now, still a ways from the Master level.

"How many strokes do I need to go down?"

"At least six." Hu Sanniang said. "At six, you'll have a fighting chance. At seven, you could win. At eight, definitely. At nine... no need for nine. At nine, you'd become someone else."

Shen Moyan nodded.

Six strokes. He had three now. Three more.

Three months.