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The smoke stirred though no wind blew, as if something within it were on the verge of taking shape.
If the He brothers were here, they would have been stunned. They had never known their father to be someone who could pull off tricks like this.
But just then the candle gave a sharp sputter; the wick popped and burst into a flaring cinder.
Old Steward Mo felt the atmosphere change at once. He watched, helpless, as the azure smoke slowly unraveled and thinned into nothing, no matter how He Chunhua repeated the incantation.
Clearly, something had interfered with the casting. The ritual could not proceed.
Unable to help himself, Old Mo asked from the side, eyes fixed on the smoke, “What went wrong?”
He Chunhua wiped sweat from his brow. “It won’t answer the summons. It says there’s a stronger presence nearby.”
“A stronger presence?” Old Mo was startled. This is just a small county city. What powerful presence could possibly be here? “What do you intend to do, Master?”
“While it’s still the middle of the night, we find another place. Going east should be our best option.”
Old Mo gathered the implements. He Chunhua threw on a heavy cloak, and the two hurried out.
They had barely descended...
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