At this moment, the Gaunt Daoist shook the Taotie Banner, and from the maw of that glutton-mask flew forth many yin-things: wandering souls, animated jiang, human spirits, demon spirits—faces twisted, teeth bared, claws extended—rushing to bite at Red Second Aunt.
Cheng Xinzhan watched those yin beings carefully.
He had a photographic memory, and he still clearly remembered the two earlier times he'd seen the Gaunt Daoist wave that banner.
The first time was at Poyang Lake.
From the banner then came out mostly tiger, leopard, ox and snake beast-spirits; later a few humanoid littler ghosts.
Their spiritual energy was very thin—they looked like cultivators only beginning, their soul-forms quite insubstantial.
The second time was on the Autumn Hunt grounds of the Xiao family in Baiyujing.
Then the beast-spirits that emerged were solid, heavy with fiendish qi; they fought brutally in the hunt arena and made quite a commotion.
Now, seeing it a third time, the difference between the Gaunt Daoist’s banner at his current third realm and what Cheng had seen when the man was at first realm was like clouds and mud.