Ghostly lanterns, like lacquer dotting pine blossoms, ghosts in autumn tombs sing Bao family poems. Yet, a century-old owl, transformed into a wood spirit, laughs from its emerald nest. Within the Taoist banners, a thousand ghosts hide, a myriad of demons are captured. The universe is vast within the gourd, time stretches on within the reed. With a thousand different dharmas and countless magical powers, let me ask: can immortality be achieved?