Chapter 23: Becoming a High-Level Traffic Monster

Feng Xue read through the material once more, confirming his understanding. He pulled out the secret manual he had copied from the righteous cemetery and compared the Substitute Curse with the Staff-Sending Curse. He realized the theories were effectively the same, but the Staff-Sending Curse focused on "lead time"—setting up an altar and ritual beforehand to allow a spell to trigger even when one’s cultivation level was insufficient or no altar was present at the moment of use.

"Wait... this part..." Feng Xue flipped to the Spirit-Attachment Curse and immediately understood.

The so-called Staff-Sending Curse was, simply put, a combination of the Spirit-Attachment and Substitute Curses. This didn't mean he had been cheated; had he tried to develop it himself, even with the right inspiration, it would likely have taken him a year or a year and a half.

However, once he realized this, Feng Xue stopped his deep reading and flipped through the other books. After a quick skim, he reached a conclusion that was unexpected yet reasonable:

The twelve spells he had bought from Ninth Aunt were all variations and derivatives of the four foundational curses: Substitute, Spirit-Attachment, Deity-Invoking, and Lightning-Summoning.

Spells like Object-Summoning, Ghost-Driving, Paper-Cutting, Godly-Striding, Demon-Slaying, and Nightmare-Cursing were all derivative uses of the Spirit-Attachment Curse; the only differences lay in the vessel used and the resulting effect.

The Fire-Summoning Curse was a variation of the Lightning-Summoning Curse, merely changing "mana to electricity" into "mana to fire," with the added benefit of slightly increasing one’s heat resistance.

Surprisingly, the Dust-Cleansing spell, which looked like a simple cleaning chore, was actually a variation of the Deity-Invoking technique. It filtered the willpower generated by people's "pursuit of cleanliness" or "aversion to filth" and attached it to a target, making it difficult for grime to adhere and thus automatically removing it.

As he read on, Feng Xue suddenly understood why Daoist Qian’s two disciples were only taught those four specific techniques.

Just as the manual stated, once one mastered the altar and basic rituals, these four curses were enough. With mastery, one could develop and design countless personalized spells. It was like learning mathematics: rather than memorizing a stack of incomprehensible advanced formulas, it was better to first master mental arithmetic and basic theorems.

The most exaggerated of all these spells was the one called [Pot-Heaven], which took its name from the concept of a "world within a pot."

In terms of ritual and description, it was technically a fusion of the Spirit-Attachment, Deity-Invoking, Substitute, and Lightning-Summoning curses. It was considered "exaggerated" because Feng Xue couldn't fathom how combining these four techniques could turn an ordinary pocket into a space-bag capable of holding a hundred times its volume without adding any weight.

It was just as baffling as how the little white snake could transform from a thirty-centimeter, quarter-pound creature into a 168-centimeter-tall, hundred-pound beautiful girl just by listening to him.

But with metaphysics, there was no need to overthink. Feng Xue only needed to know that once he learned the Pot-Heaven Curse, he wouldn't have to lug a ten-kilogram backpack around town anymore!

As for the principle? Who cares! It wasn't as if he was opening a pocket dimension and hiring an immortal to stand inside and hold the items up.

"In any case, my first small goal: learn the [Pot-Heaven Curse]!"

...

"Alright, I admit this small goal is too difficult. I suppose I should master the four basic curses first!"

After only half a day, Feng Xue looked at the room full of ruined pockets and decisively abandoned the idea of skipping the basics.

According to his interpretation of the ritual, the Pot-Heaven Curse was essentially a "shifting of burden." It required setting up an altar to channel the willpower of people wanting their "burdens to be lighter," sealing it onto a pocket, box, or warehouse, and then using the Substitute Curse to link that container to the "substitute" filled with that willpower. It was as if the "substitute" were carrying the weight and volume of the Pot-Heaven bag.

While it was still hard to grasp how a Substitute Curse could transfer volume and weight, the logic at least held together.

However, understanding the logic didn't guarantee success. In those half a day, Feng Xue had tried nearly twenty times, yet he couldn't even complete the first stage of the process—he couldn't even make a "substitute parcel" capable of bearing the willpower!

Still, the time wasn't entirely wasted. During the process of analyzing the rituals, Feng Xue realized that the four basic curses represented four distinct properties of mana:

[Lightning-Summoning] corresponded to "Conversion," capable of changing the nature of mana.
[Substitute] corresponded to "Transfer," capable of transmitting mana across distances.
[Spirit-Attachment] corresponded to "Fixation," capable of maintaining mana in a specific state for a long time.
Finally, [Deity-Invoking] corresponded to "Filtering." While its primary purpose was to distinguish the characteristics of willpower and spirits to avoid invoking evil entities, the same mechanism could be used to filter specific parts out of complex, chaotic willpower.

Only by mastering these corresponding properties could one unleash the true power of the curses.

He extinguished the candles, took several gulps of the lukewarm tea, readjusted his mindset, took a ruler, measured the two candles, trimmed the longer one to match, and lit them again.

An altar was, generally speaking, just an "offering table" filled with incense, candles, ritual tools, and various oddities, much like those seen in Lam Ching-ying’s zombie movies. But beyond the function of "keeping tools handy," the core of a general altar lay in those two candles.

As mentioned before, for a novice, the altar acted like a voltage stabilizer, allowing those who couldn't yet control their mana with their soul to output it more steadily.

It wasn't a convenient device that would adjust things for you if you just poured in power violently; it was a manual gearbox.

Simply put, when releasing mana, one split it into two even streams, passed them through the two candles, and released them from the flames. By observing the burning, one could adjust the mana output in real-time.

If the flames flickered violently, the flow was unstable; if the flames were too weak, the flow was too fast; if the two candles burned at different rates, the output was uneven.

By comparing them, one could make constant micro-adjustments to ensure the mana flow was as balanced, stable, and uniform as possible, thereby increasing the success rate of the spells.

If one had to compare it, it was the same principle as the thermometer used by a novice cook who couldn't judge oil temperature by experience.

Time and again, Feng Xue let his mana pass through the flames, though he didn't try to cast any actual spells. He simply used this continuous output to adapt to the sensation of controlling this strange, newfound power.

Although increasing the strength of his soul would naturally improve his control precision, Feng Xue was a man destined to be a "flow monster." If he wanted to harness the advantages he gained from burning his lifespan instead of letting them become a burden, he couldn't just care about his "horsepower"—his "perfect state" had to match it as well.

Rather than waiting until he possessed immense strength to refine his micro-control, it was better to adapt to this precision bit by bit while he was still weak.

After all... the control precision brought by a perfected soul might not necessarily be enough to govern the over-spec mana he was destined to wield.