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墨書 Inktalez
I don't know how many people have played games like Spirit of the Pen or Spirit Plate, but I've dealt with a few situations related to Spirit of the Pen.
Most of these experiences share a common feature: asking questions that shouldn't be asked, which leads to complications when trying to send the Spirit God away. Let me share a less common story.
This happened during my senior year in college, just before graduation. One of my roommates, a chubby guy named Duan, was the complete opposite of me—tall, slim, and handsome—so he earned the nickname Dunzi. He was a local from Wuhan and, despite being a student, he was somewhat of a small-time tycoon among our broke student circle. He had plenty of money and was generous, though he didn't have a girlfriend; he had many female friends.
As the saying goes, "Long hair but short knowledge; fat body but big courage." He belonged to the latter category, always seeking adventure—rock climbing, haunted houses, river rafting, bungee jumping, and so on. He even invited four girls to play Spirit of the Pen with him. After three attempts, they finally succeeded.
However, despite knowing the rules, he asked an inappropriate question. This led to one of the girls getting affected; not only did they fail to send the spirit away, but it also followed her around. It caused her significant distress—one could say it became her lifelong nightmare.
The incident took place in an underground parking lot in the girl’s neighborhood at just past midnight.
I forgot her last name, so let’s call her C. I truly admired their bravery; underground parking lots, restrooms, and poorly ventilated rooms are all places where Yin Qi gathers strongly. Of course, I don’t mean to instill fear; just because a place gathers Yin Qi doesn’t mean there will definitely be a Spirit God present. I can only say that while encounters are rare, when they do happen and cling to you, it's akin to winning the lottery.
Every space has its own survival rules. It's not that there isn't communication; under certain specific conditions, communication occurs—like how television channels in the 90s would not conflict when broadcast separately but would interfere if electromagnetic waves were disrupted. You might see scenes from one show dubbed over another; for example, characters from My Fair Princess might suddenly be speaking lines from Journey to the West.
Back to the main point: after C got affected, Dunzi called me because he knew I practiced cultivation. My bookshelf was filled with ancient texts and my notebooks for drawing talismans. When he called me on that Saturday afternoon, I was practicing my techniques alone in the dormitory since it was the weekend. It had already been a week since they played Spirit of the Pen.
During that week, C experienced various supernatural occurrences. Initially thinking it was just hallucinations or visual distortions, she eventually realized that there were too many strange happenings to dismiss as mere illusions. Dunzi said over the phone: "We played Spirit of the Pen last week and now one girl is being haunted by a ghost. Can you help with this?"
I replied that they should have chosen something else instead of playing summoning games; I had warned them about such things before.
He grew anxious and insisted they didn't believe anything like this could actually happen.
I asked where he was and if he was with C.
He confirmed they were at her house and that something had just happened again.
I told him to give me the address so I could take a taxi over.
At this point, I must comment on Wuhan's taxi drivers. As soon as they realize you're an outsider, they'll take you on a roundabout route. A ride that should cost 20 yuan easily ends up costing at least 35 yuan by the time you reach your destination. Plus, these drivers often act like they're your best friends and share their life philosophies with you. One driver even told me: "I have my own car and business; I'm my own boss—no one can order me around." I couldn't take it anymore and calmly said: "Please turn left at the next intersection."
When I arrived at C's neighborhood, Dunzi and C were already waiting for me at the entrance. Dunzi looked frantic as if he were about to collapse. C appeared haggard; her face was pale and she wore a white dress that made her look even paler. Her Yintang area was darkened, and she kept rubbing her hands together nervously across her abdomen.
The fat guy said it was her. I glanced at C, who had a look of helplessness in her eyes. I nodded and suggested we go inside first. We didn't speak on the way, until we reached C's home, which was a small two-bedroom apartment with poor lighting.
They remained silent, and I didn't say anything either. After a moment of silence, I broke the ice and got straight to the point. With a gaze full of warmth, I gently addressed C: "Hello, I'm Liu. Can you tell me what you've seen? Maybe I can help you."
When she heard that I might be able to help her, she nodded in confusion, stammering and unsure of what to say.
I couldn't tell if she was scared by the Spirit God or if she was just taken aback by my charm, but I suspected it was more of the latter.
I sighed and asked Dunzi, "What exactly is going on? Can you explain it clearly?"
Dunzi took a big gulp of water. Then she looked at me seriously, just about to speak when suddenly the showerhead in their bathroom turned on by itself.
I asked, "Is there anyone else in your house?"
Dunzi looked puzzled as well. Then C let out three panicked cries, repeatedly saying, "Get away! Get away! Don't cling to me!" I knew for sure that there was no one else in the house.
I said to Dunzi, "Calm her down; I'll go take a look."
Without hesitation, Dunzi rushed over and hugged C tightly. I shot him a disdainful glance and muttered "beast" before heading toward the bathroom.
The bathroom door was closed but not locked from the inside. I twisted the doorknob and pushed the door, expecting it to open smoothly. After creating a small gap, it suddenly slammed shut again due to some external force. If it were someone else, they might think it was just the wind. However, having dealt with many strange occurrences before, I sensed that there was no airflow coming from the crack in the door. The only explanation was the Spirit God.
I didn’t push the door open again but turned to C and asked, "Does your bathroom have a window?" Just as she was about to respond, Dunzi interjected, "No, there’s only an exhaust fan." It seemed like I understood what was happening. I disdainfully muttered "beast" again. Since you won’t let me in, then you shouldn’t expect to come out either.
I took out a pre-drawn Spirit Binding Symbol and stuck it on the door. Initially, I wanted to draw it directly on the door but realized I hadn’t brought any ink or brush since I had come in such a hurry.
After sticking it on, feeling that wasn’t enough, I pulled out some Ink Fight Line and drew a Soul Binding Formation on the door and its frame. Once everything was done, I returned to face them.
I said calmly, "It’s okay now; feel free to speak without worrying about it."
C seemed to be in much better spirits now, no longer stammering. She even asked me what I wanted to drink.
I replied, "Tea, thank you."
She paused for a moment but then naturally poured me a cup of Da Hong Pao pure water. Looking at me apologetically, I took a sip and pretended to say, "Mmm, the aroma is delightful, it’s refreshing on the palate, and the aftertaste is sweet. Truly good tea."
To my surprise, she laughed, and it was a genuine laugh.
I said, "Alright, I won't tease you anymore. Why don’t you tell me about how you invited the Spirit of the Pen? Most importantly, what questions did you ask?"
After that little joke, the atmosphere lightened considerably. They seemed less tense now, even though the showerhead in the bathroom was still turning on and off. I felt I had given them enough of a sense of security.
After exchanging a few more jokes, they began to recount the details of the incident: there were four of them, but the Spirit of the Pen only required two participants. Boldly, they split into two groups and agreed to meet back in half an hour at opposite sides of the underground parking lot. Dunzi and C formed one group while the other two girls formed another. As for what happened with the other two girls—whether they didn’t play at all or if they managed to summon something safely—I didn’t delve into that since they hadn’t encountered any issues.
In fact, after playing, C didn’t immediately show any signs of trouble; it was only the next day that things began to unfold.
Setting aside the other group, Dunzi and C found a dark corner in the parking lot—so dark that they needed candles to see clearly—and they had prepared those candles in advance. I couldn’t help but admire their courage; I wondered if they truly didn’t believe or simply weren’t afraid.
Regardless, this was an extremely dangerous game; I had no idea who gave them such courage. But they went ahead and succeeded—not only did they succeed, but they also ended up getting entangled in it.
Every action has its consequences; there is only one cause but countless effects. Some are within your expectations and bearable, while others are unforeseen and unbearable. Therefore, whenever we do anything, we should consider the worst-case scenario and whether we can handle it. Just like C—she clearly couldn’t handle it without finding someone suitable and handsome like me to help her out. The consequences for her would have been dire.
They played the most basic version of Spirit of the Pen. I believe many friends have heard of it even if they haven’t played: two people cross their hands and hold a pencil together. Then on paper, they write: Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming, Qing; along with numbers 0-9; yes or no; male or female; and all twenty-six letters of the alphabet—this is considered the simplest way to play Spirit of the Pen.
In reality, the success rate of Spirit of the Pen isn’t very high. The primary requirement is that there must be a Spirit God within 1500 meters around you, and the location must be one that gathers Yin Qi. If you try to play Spirit of the Pen in a bustling downtown area on a main road—even if you turn your pencil into a needle—it wouldn’t be of any use.
This is about hand gestures. Of course, there are other gestures as well, but Dunzi and C used this particular one.
I won’t elaborate on how to invite or chant; I’m only concerned with what questions they asked. Dunzi mentioned that they only asked four questions. I cursed under my breath at their foolishness—either three or five questions would have made more sense. Four questions were already problematic from the start.
I asked what questions they had.
C said the first question was his, a very ordinary one: when would she get married? The second question was from Dunzi, also quite common; he asked whether the Spirit of the Pen was male or female. The third question, again from C, was not too far-fetched; she asked how old the Spirit of the Pen was. The fourth question came from Dunzi and directly angered the Spirit God. He asked, "Spirit of the Pen, you and the girl sitting across from me—who will die first?"
After that, the pen inexplicably broke. Instead of being frightened, they began to blame each other for using too much force. As they argued, it was clear they were as bold as a newborn calf unafraid of tigers. They didn’t send off the Spirit of the Pen with any farewell words or blessings; they didn’t even pack up their tools before leaving.
I was taken aback and started scolding them: "No matter what game it is, there are rules you must follow. If you don’t abide by them, you will inevitably face consequences. This is all self-inflicted. I don’t know where you found your courage, but this is a disrespect to the spirit world."
"Why do you think you can disrespect others? Do you think you are superior?"
Seeing my agitation, they lowered their heads in remorse. Then they looked at me with confusion, as if unable to believe it. I truly detested this irresponsible attitude.
However, I also knew that scolding wouldn’t change anything. The situation still needed to be resolved, but they were young and inexperienced in handling such matters. They were also lazy and sought quick solutions, which led to many troubles. I didn’t bother asking C how she had entangled herself with it or how she had frightened her. I didn’t want to delve into why it was the chubby one who asked questions while C got involved instead. Even less did I want to know what purpose that Spirit God had or what story lay behind it. At that moment, I just wanted to send it where it belonged.
That was my first encounter with the Spirit of the Pen. In essence, the Spirit of the Pen is a type of wandering Spirit God summoned by ordinary people without Daoist Techniques under specific conditions; calling it a lonely ghost wouldn’t be far off.
Many friends have asked me why the Spirit of the Pen answers questions and whether those answers are correct. The reason the Spirit of the Pen controls the pen to respond is due to the summoner's gestures; when done correctly, it resembles a Hand Spell. This incantation is referred to as **Zhou** in master’s notes—it sounds impressive but has little effect and is just one method used during remote Call of Souls.
As for whether the answers are correct—I can tell you that they don’t even know where they are supposed to go or what they are meant to do here; do you think they would know the answers to your questions? The reason there are taboo questions is that Spirit Gods fear painful memories. Almost all Spirit Gods cannot accept the fact that they are dead. Enough of that; if I keep going, this will turn into a lecture.
When I intended to send it away, I realized I couldn’t find it at all. Despite trying various methods based on common sense, its presence eluded me.
I was puzzled since this was my first time dealing with a Spirit of the Pen. When fixed methods failed, I needed to try practical approaches—a process that was evidently painful.
After witnessing my strange actions without any results, they couldn’t help but cast doubtful glances at me.
I smiled sheepishly and prepared to set up for a Call of Souls.
Just as I laid down Yellow Cloth on the table, I reconsidered and put it away again. First of all, I didn’t have any information about it and couldn’t accurately call upon it. What if I accidentally summoned unrelated spirits nearby? One or two might be manageable, but if a whole group showed up... At that time, I didn’t have Five Spirits yet; I definitely wouldn’t be able to handle it.
I suddenly remembered that my master once told me after calling a spirit that once he summoned it, even if it wasn't sent away, no one else could call it again unless they were much more skilled than him.
At that moment, I wondered if it was because they had summoned the Spirit of the Pen that I couldn't find it anymore. The only way would be to call upon them again.
After I shared my thoughts with them, C shook his head vigorously, saying it was a bad idea. Dunzi didn't speak, but there was still fear in his eyes.
I said, "If you don't do this, I won't be able to handle it. Can you find someone else?" C remained silent, but Dunzi, being sensible, said, "Yeah, we have no choice. Don't be afraid." He was worried about something else.
I explained that I needed to step back because if I stayed, they wouldn't be able to summon the Spirit of the Pen. C looked at me in confusion, unsure if he was afraid of the Spirit or if he couldn't leave me behind.
I sensed it was the latter. Noticing her uncertainty, I said, "When playing this kind of spirit-summoning game, if someone with even a little skill is present, it won't succeed."
That was indeed the case. So people like us had other methods to Call of Souls; Spirit of the Pen and Spirit Plate were just games for us.
After persuading them for nearly half an hour, C still insisted she didn't want to play anymore.
I said, "If we don't play, I can't solve this. I'm leaving." As I made a move to walk away, Dunzi quickly stood up and grabbed my arm, looking up and saying, "Wait! Let's think of another way."
C also put on a pitiful expression and slowly said she would listen to me. Seeing my goal achieved, I wasted no time and began explaining what they should do.
I took out a piece of uncut yellow paper and drew symbols on the back. One symbol for Spirit Binding was drawn behind the word "yes," and another for calming spirits behind "no." I also informed them about the Courage Spell to bolster their spirits and instructed them not to look up at anything they might see but to focus on the yellow paper instead. Then I coated the tip of the pen with cinnabar and reminded them to ask affirmative questions first before moving on to negative ones.
Knowing this was a matter of luck, I wrote "yes" close together and spaced out "no" a bit further apart for safety. After asking two questions, I instructed Fatty to call my phone with his other hand so I could come in.
The rest would be left to me. When I asked if they understood, they surprisingly shook their heads. I patiently explained twice more until they finally nodded.
Shaking my head, I remarked, "It's getting rarer to find someone with a good physique who looks handsome and has such patience like Little Taoist." With that, I left without looking back. I could even feel three pairs of admiring eyes fixed on me from behind.
As I stepped outside and slightly closed the door behind me, walking down the corridor's end, all of this was merely to ensure my aura didn't seem too overwhelming.
A few minutes later, my phone vibrated; it was a call from the chubby guy. I hurried into the room. As I opened the door, despite my boldness, carefulness, and high intelligence, I was still startled by the scene before me.
A man and a woman sat at the table, their heads bowed. Their hands were clasped together with their fingers intertwined, while on the other side of the table floated a soul, gripping their hands with both of its own. The expression on its face was one of extreme agony, and it was hovering above the chairs rather than sitting in them.
The soul's face was pale and contorted in rage. Its mouth was wide open, eyes bloodshot, with fresh red streaks at the corners. Fortunately, it was a short-haired male; if it had been a long-haired female spirit with red lips, it would have surely frightened the handsome Little Taoist into a heart attack.
When I barged in, the soul's expression became even more ferocious upon seeing me. It looked as if it wanted to kill me in an instant, but it couldn't move. I couldn't help but shiver.
I instructed them to close their eyes and not to worry about anything. Seeing such a terrifying sight made me want to disperse it immediately, but I couldn't; that would disrupt the cycle of karma. If I disrupted it without cause, I would have to bear the consequences.
I could only perform Soul Requiem to stabilize the spirit, recite incantations for its release, and burn paper offerings until it willingly departed. Luckily, this Spirit Lord didn't harbor strong resentment to begin with; with a little guidance, I successfully sent it away.
After more than ten minutes, I finished tidying up and spoke with them.
They slowly opened their eyes and complained that their hands were cramping. I told them they deserved it and that I wouldn't help them play such games again in the future. They repeatedly assured me they wouldn't play anymore. Then I performed an exorcism for C and advised her to exercise more, get plenty of sunlight, and avoid places heavy with Yin Qi. Most importantly, she should never play with Dunzi again.
I turned to look at Dunzi; he glared at me with resentment. I said, "What are you staring at? Remember to give me the money for class tomorrow." As I spoke, I wiggled two fingers at him. Picking up my bag, I opened the door and walked out. After taking a couple of steps, I returned to stick an exorcism talisman on the door before hurrying off to school.
I needed to quickly return and check that thick notebook for information and case studies related to summoning spirits.
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