Seltsame Geschichten aus Tangdun

Kapitel 3

Suddenly, I realized this was the doll Sister Yan had mentioned last time. I had clearly looked around when everyone entered the private room and had no recollection of seeing it. Could it have appeared on its own? A terrifying chill enveloped my entire body, making it almost impossible to breathe.

"Go to the toilet!" Wuwu and the others' voices, seemingly echoing from afar, suddenly rang out like a thunderclap in my ear, startling me. When I looked again, there was no doll anywhere; the corner was empty, devoid of anything.

I must have been too busy and tired this week to have this hallucination.

Haunted by several girls, Mouse seized the opportunity to slip away. Yan Xin looked at me, hesitant to speak. A Lei clutched his head, almost groaning. The unrelated people, having finished laughing at the cowardly Mouse, urged the game to continue.

I have a very bad feeling, a really bad feeling. Maybe something is about to happen, or maybe nothing is. Maybe I'm just too tired and need to rest.

Ten people played the murder mystery game. A round usually lasts about half an hour, but this round felt particularly long to me. Perhaps everyone was a bit tired, and some inexplicable evidence was brought up as evidence. For example, the sound of something falling to the ground, dull chopping sounds, and panting. Later, it was all confirmed that the sounds were coming from the kitchen, which was only separated by a thin wooden board.

The second round is over. Haozi still hasn't returned. Lao Gao went out for a couple of rounds but didn't see Haozi, and no one answered his cell phone.

Just as the third round began, the door to the private room was pushed open, and Haozi stood in the doorway, holding a large bowl with a stainless steel lid in his right hand, which obscured half of his body. His face was deathly pale, as if it had been pickled in lime.

"Rat, where have you been? I've been looking for you for ages!" Old Gao greeted him in surprise. "What did you order? Why wasn't it brought up by the waitress..."

My heart tightened for no reason, as if all the strength had been drained from my body in an instant, and my palms were sweaty. I don't know why, but I had a vague feeling that something extremely terrifying was about to happen. The people around me were still unaware, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Yan Xin desperately covering her mouth with her right hand, her pupils dilated and filled with fear.

With a loud "thump," short, tall Lao Gao was pushed aside by Haozi and stumbled into Sister Yan. Haozi strode in silently, slammed his food bowl on the coffee table, and said in a strangely flat voice, "I'm treating everyone to a big feast!"

The bandits thought he was up to something again and started teasing him all at once.

The mouse seemed not to hear anything, and with a blank expression, slowly reached out and lifted the stainless steel lid dripping with soup, as if opening a box. A puff of white steam, carrying a strange meaty aroma, spread out. In the bowl was a human arm, steamed to about 70% done, severed at the shoulder, with twisted red muscles and white tendons still visible at the break.

The bright red gravy dripped slowly from the stainless steel lid onto the floor.

My mind went blank, and everyone else stared in stunned silence, not even daring to breathe.

The mouse chuckled dryly twice: "Since... none of you... are willing to eat... then I... won't be polite..." It sat down as if no one else was there, picked up a knife, slowly cut off a piece of meat, then used a skewer to fork the meat into its mouth and chewed it slowly.

Section 7

The above is my oral notes from the Wenquan Police Station.

What happened next was relatively simple. Amidst the girls' screams, Haozi's upper body slammed onto the coffee table. I tried to remain calm and called the police, but my fingers trembled and I couldn't press the button. In the end, Yan Xin snatched my Nokia 8210 from me.

The police car arrived five minutes later with sirens blaring. Three minutes after that, the ambulance followed. Of course, by then the mouse no longer needed emergency care.

Of the remaining people, Wuwu, Xiaowei, and Pengpeng were lucky enough to faint. This luck also included the three boys, Fengzei, Yugou, and Changge, because they fainted after witnessing the bizarre scene of blood flowing everywhere in the kitchen. So their luck wasn't as good as the three girls'.

The four of us who were still conscious—me, A-Lei, Lao Gao, and Yan Xin—spent the whole night at the Wenquan Police Station before being sent to the Gulou District Branch. By the time we were finally questioned at the Municipal Criminal Investigation Brigade, it was already past 5 p.m. the next day.

The same thing was said three times, and both the person asking the question and the person taking notes looked incredulous. This is normal; actually, I've been wondering if what I saw was a hallucination, or if, like last time, I'd wake up to find everyone telling me it never happened.

So after the questioning, I asked the wrinkled-looking old policeman for a cigarette, took a couple of puffs, and brought the red-hot butt to the back of my left hand. It hurt, it really hurt. Looks like this wasn't a dream; what's meant to happen can't be avoided.

"What are you doing! Are you crazy!" The old policeman slapped the cigarette butt away and shouted sternly.

I smiled bitterly, my mind numb with fear: "I'm already insane, do you think you'd believe me? I don't even believe myself!"

The old policeman grabbed my chest, shoved his ugly face close to my eyes, and breathed hot air onto my face as he said, word by word, "Are you crazy? Then tell me, your nine friends are crazy too? And the girl from Ivy League, the cook, they're all crazy? Impossible! I'm a policeman, nothing in this world happens without a reason! We've solved cases far more complicated than this, what's this!"

He paused, his tone softening before becoming more forceful and resolute: "Don't let yourself be frightened. Everything happens for a reason. Once you calm down, think carefully about every detail. Only then will your friend's death not have been in vain."

Holding the business card the old policeman handed me, I clearly remember the pockmarks and scars on his face as I walked out of the city police station. Perhaps it was his awe-inspiring righteousness, or perhaps it was because police stations are inherently forbidden places for gods and ghosts, but I gradually calmed down.

The mouse is dead.

Blood was splattered everywhere in the Ivy League kitchen, staining half the wall red. Two chefs were knocked unconscious, and the waitress and the only other customer besides us had inexplicably passed out. The only one awake was the lobby manager named Afang. When the police found her, she was huddled in a corner, trembling and unable to speak.

The four of us sat on the bus, each preoccupied with our own thoughts. Our eyes met several times as we tried to speak, but the courage we had just mustered suddenly vanished.

Perhaps because of our strange expressions, a little boy sitting to my left kept turning his head to look at me, and his young mother, feeling embarrassed, gently coaxed him to look elsewhere.

The little boy was only four or five years old and very handsome, especially his eyes, which were as bright as the blackest and purest crystal, as if they could see into people's hearts.

When we got off the bus, the little boy kept staring at me. As usual, the young mother tried to distract him by showing him something else. Suddenly, the little boy said in his childish voice, "Mommy, why does that uncle keep carrying the little boy on his back? Isn't the uncle tired?"

A chill ran through me, and my back felt icy cold. Lao Gao and the others had driven off on the bus, and there were very few pedestrians at the station. The occasional glances that fell on me showed no sign of anything amiss.

I mustered my courage and looked behind me again and again, even reaching out to touch things, but there was nothing there. This only made me more afraid. That's how people are; if they can see and touch something, they're less afraid.

I almost didn't have the courage to walk down that dark alley next to Banghui. It was only a dozen meters long, but it felt like it would never end. It wasn't until I saw the incense burning eternally in Master Pei's mansion and the uncles and aunties playing mahjong under the shed that I came to my senses.

Master Pei wasn't some great deity; aside from his son, whose residence was barely bigger than a bicycle shed in this courtyard, probably few people in all of China had ever heard of him. But now, even if I prayed to the Jade Emperor, Buddha, or Jesus Christ a thousand times in my heart, it wouldn't necessarily put my mind at ease.

Having lived here for half a year, this was the first time I had sincerely offered incense to Master Pei. The temple keeper, who was playing mahjong, glanced at me a few times, then suddenly pushed the mahjong tiles he had just laid out and said, "I'm done playing!" He strode towards me, completely ignoring the gamblers behind him who were shouting and yelling in desperation.

I stood still. Uncle Wang Mazi, the temple keeper, looked me up and down for a long time, and the more he looked, the more nervous I became, especially when his gaze lingered on the back of my shoulder.

After reading it, he frowned: "Have you ever done anything wrong?"

I gave a wry smile. In this era that only cares about results and not methods, who dares to say they've never done anything wrong? Who dares to say they've never hurt anyone? He probably sensed what I was thinking and added, "I'm talking about those heinous things, like murder and arson."

I immediately felt relieved.

Traditional Chinese philosophy speaks of cause and effect, the inescapable law of nature, and that those who commit wrongdoings will suffer the consequences. Looking back, I admit I've done wrong in some ways, and I've hurt some people. But most of those actions were unintentional, and certainly not heinous crimes like murder or arson.

If that's the case, even if I am truly possessed by a vengeful ghost, what is there to be afraid of?

Looking at him again, I felt a surge of gratitude and respect. This pockmarked uncle, with his meager income and ordinary appearance, whom I only vaguely remembered when he gathered the residents of the courtyard for a monthly religious ceremony, perhaps possessed a far deeper understanding and insight into life than I, this self-important "white-collar worker."

Wang Mazi ignored me and respectfully offered incense. After searching for a long time on the messy incense table, he found a piece of yellow paper and stuffed it into my hand: "I can't help you either. Take this for protection. Go to the Nantian Zhaotianjun Palace on Wushan Mountain to burn incense first thing tomorrow morning. The incense there is very strong and I heard it is very effective. Maybe it will be of some use."

Nantian Zhaotianjun Palace? This tongue-twisting name seems vaguely familiar. I was searching my memory for this place name when Uncle Ma's last words reached my ears: "...Take this calming talisman, fifty yuan."

Section 8

The talisman I bought for fifty yuan did not bring me peace of mind.

This old house has two bedrooms and a living room. I usually sleep in the larger bedroom, and the other door is always locked. The landlord never said what was inside, only warning me never to open it. I usually work until late at night, and when I get home, I fall asleep like a log, oblivious to anything that might happen. I never thought there might be anything strange in the house.

What are people most afraid of? It's the things they know nothing about.

That night, I lay alone in bed, the bedroom door closed, the darkness enveloping me like thick, impenetrable ink. I tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. I felt as if an unseen pair of eyes were watching me from the darkness, and even when I turned over, I was afraid that a cold body would suddenly appear beside me.

Details I hadn't noticed before suddenly came to mind. There were several talismans pasted on the wall in the living room, old and worn, I wondered what they were suppressing; there was a locked cabinet in the entryway, always filled with incense and offerings, I wondered when the landlord would come back to worship some unknown ghost or spirit.

A faint, rustling sound came from the locked room next door, as if someone were pacing back and forth inside. The more I thought about it, the clearer the sound seemed, making me imagine an old, toothless woman, wearing worn-out slippers, shuffling through the empty room. Her face was obscured by darkness, only her eyes glowing a ghostly green…

Unable to suppress my thoughts, I jumped up and turned on the bedroom light. The instant the white light filled the room, all the strange feelings vanished. But I still didn't have the courage to open the bedroom door and glance at that empty room even once more.

What scares me most isn't that there are people inside, but that there's nothing inside.

I couldn't hold on any longer, so I got dressed and went to the intersection near the Banghui Hotel. Just like last time, I smoked several cigarettes, watched the noisy and bustling prostitutes and vagrants, leaned against that dark yellow telephone pole, and finally fell into a deep sleep.

When I woke up at dawn, the warm sunlight dispelled the chill of the night and swept away the gloom in my heart.

I made a phone call to the company and asked for half a day off. I also smiled at the convenience store clerk who came to pick up the blanket. Her face turned a little red. I don't know if I saw it wrong.

As expected, the Nantian Zhaotianjun Palace was bustling with worshippers. I didn't need to ask for directions; I just followed the large group of pilgrims who were going up the mountain to burn incense and fulfill their vows. It was easy for me to find this building that was neither a temple nor a Taoist temple.

After burning incense, I looked up, down, left, and right, and only the sleazy "Taoist priest" selling incense and candles on the side of the main hall looked somewhat special.

I showed him the talisman, and the "Taoist" glanced at me a few times, nodded, and without saying a word, led me to a civilian house outside the palace. He told me to wait and then left.

This quiet room is only about ten square meters in size, spacious and simple. The windows are large and bright, and sunlight shines directly in through the glass, illuminating every detail of the room.

A little tabby cat peeked through the slightly ajar door. Its fluffy fur and big, dark eyes looked just like my adopted cat, Xiao Guai, from last year. I couldn't resist going over to pick it up and pet it.

As soon as the kitten saw me approaching, it let out a sharp "meow," took several steps back, arched its back, its fur stood on end, its eerie green eyes stared intently at me, and made a few clawing motions in the air as if it were about to pounce.

Suddenly, I remembered the saying that cats can ward off evil spirits. Could it be that the little kitten saw something strange on me?

Just then, the "Taoist priest" returned. He had changed his appearance, donning a well-fitting set of casual clothes, clean and crisp, his hair neatly combed, and the lazy expression on his face was completely gone. His lips were tightly pursed, and his gaze was focused and powerful. He didn't look like a pretentious Taoist priest; he looked more like a university professor.

He sat down without a care, gesturing for me to sit as well, and then began fiddling with the tea set: "Since Wang Mazi introduced you, we're kind of destined to meet. I'll naturally help you resolve any problems. As for the fee, it's 180 per hour, but I'll give you a discount. Two hours should be enough, so I'll charge you 300. Any questions?"

I was both amused and exasperated, feeling as if I had stepped into a Hong Kong film directed by Tsui Hark, or encountered an exorcist dressed like Ma Xiaoling from "My Date with a Vampire" who loved money. This aroused my great curiosity: "Money is not a problem. But how can you convince me that you have the ability to help me?"

"Ability?" He smiled faintly, his hands moving swiftly—rinsing the tea, passing the teacup, brewing the tea, warming it slightly, the tea turning golden, its rich aroma carrying a hint of osmanthus. He picked up the teacup, slowly sipping it, his gaze passing through the rising steam, fixed on me… no, on my right shoulder, his eyes filled with a mixture of helplessness and pity.

My heart tightened instantly.

Could he really see what's on my shoulder?

Is there really something on my shoulder?

The "Taoist priest" suddenly leaned forward and struck me hard on the shoulder with a palm strike, simultaneously spitting out a mouthful of tea all over my face and head: "You wretched creature, get out of here at once!"

That slap was incredibly powerful, sending my 150-pound body and the bench tumbling backward. Just as I was about to explode in anger and unleash a torrent of curses, the little kitten nimbly came over and licked my face with its warm little tongue.

I was stunned for a moment. It seemed like I understood something. It was as if something had been thrown off my shoulder when that palm struck me. Now, apart from a slightly burning pain in my waist, my whole body felt much lighter.

Section 9

In my 28 years of life, I never imagined I would meet such an extraordinary person as Xingyun.

The "oddity" here doesn't refer to the supernatural, but rather to the bizarre.

Peng Hu, courtesy name Xingyun. This is the name I later saw on his business card.

That day, I was inexplicably slapped by him. This slap not only made me tumble over, but it also shook the foundation of my scientific education that I had always received.

This can be explained as follows: I had some kind of strange object attached to my shoulder, possibly the vengeful spirit of a little devil. Children under the age of 8 have strong spiritual awareness and can see things that ordinary people cannot, which is why they said things like, "Why does that uncle keep carrying the little kid on his back..." and that's why the kitten had an unusual reaction.

As for Master Xingyun, he saw the vengeful spirit with his divine eye, used talisman water to perform a ritual, and slapped my shoulder to drive the vengeful spirit away. Naturally, I felt much lighter on my shoulder, and the little kitten also came over to be affectionate with me.

This is what I thought of in a split second after I was slapped and sat on the ground.

I was already skeptical about ghosts and spirits, but after thinking about it this way, I immediately believed it. The image of "Taoist Master" Xingyun suddenly became much more impressive in my eyes, and I even imagined his trendy outfit as the attire of a spirit hiding in plain sight.

Amidst the intoxicating aroma of tea, I recounted the entire incident from beginning to end.

During my narration, Xingyun only suggested at the beginning that I not call him "Daoist Master" but simply call him Xingyun, which is also his online name. After that, he listened to me while making tea, occasionally jotting down notes in his notebook.

"Xingyun... I must have encountered a ghost. How powerful is this ghost? What should I do? Can you help me exorcise it? How much will it cost? Just tell me."

Xingyun looked to be no more than thirty years old. Because of my previous experience, I naturally regarded him as my lifeline and unconsciously started using honorifics when speaking to him.

He didn't look at me. He focused on brewing the last cup of tea, picked up the teacup, placed it in front of me, and looked at me.

"I have no idea."

I was just about to pour the tea from my teacup when I heard those four words. I froze, momentarily forgetting the taste of the tea. According to the custom of brewing tea in Fujian, the last brew is usually not served to guests because it is weak in flavor and pale yellow in color.

"How does the tea taste?" A strange question, and the answer was changed.

"I don't know." I really don't know. I know nothing about tea ceremony. Except that I'm drinking Anxi Tieguanyin, whether it's inferior, superior, or special, it doesn't matter to me.

“I put a calming and exorcising talisman in that bowl of tea. I shattered that vengeful spirit with one palm and it can no longer harm people. Don’t worry, go home and get some rest.” Xingyun looked at me with a hint of a smile in her eyes, which made me feel strange.

"…Master, I want to ask again…did I really encounter a ghost?"

Xingyun stretched out his right hand in front of me and slowly unfolded it: "This is what you call a ghost." In his palm, a thin silk thread held a small bell, and at the other end of the thread was a small fishhook.

I was stunned.