Gu-Gift

Kapitel 1

Yin and Yang Mistake

Brief introduction of the work

Humans belong to Yang, and ghosts belong to Yin. This is an unchanging principle since ancient times, much like the Yin and Yang of Taiji, the Four Symbols of Yin and Yang, and the Eight Trigrams of the Four Symbols. Each has its own affiliation, its own cause and effect, and its own rules. However, too many rules can lead to trouble, and too many boundaries can easily cause confusion. We call this kind of confusion—Yin-Yang Imbalance…

Zuo Weiyang, a successor of the Zuo School of Yin-Yang philosophy, shoulders the task of balancing these chaotic trends in this materialistic age...

The Ten Courts of Hell and the Six Paths of Reincarnation will unfold here one by one...

The sorcerer's soul-gathering, spirit-controlling, exorcising, and Yin-Yang techniques will all be presented here...

About the Author

The author was born in 1986, with the destiny of "fire in the furnace," and is a tiger of the mountains and forests.

Although she is a woman, she has a bold and forthright personality and a particular love for martial arts and supernatural themes...

His grandmother was born before the founding of the People's Republic of China. She came to the fertile black soil of Northeast China and inherited the family business as a sorcerer. However, due to revealing heavenly secrets for decades, she fell seriously ill and retired from the business with the author's father. The family's secret arts were thus lost. In her old age, his grandmother believed slander and burned countless books. The author tried his best to save them, and only a few manuscripts survived...

Many chapters of this book are derived from that incomplete book, and my grandmother's personal experiences are also included. Many secret ancient techniques, such as warding off evil spirits, gathering souls, and exorcising demons, are also included...

This is by no means feudal superstition; it is simply a factual account.

Special thanks to the author's grandmother for providing the information.

The Error of Yin and Yang in the Main Text

Yin and Yang Mistake

Humans belong to Yang, and ghosts belong to Yin. This is an unchanging principle since ancient times, much like the Yin and Yang of Taiji, the Four Symbols of Yin and Yang, and the Eight Trigrams of the Four Symbols. Each has its own affiliation, its own cause and effect, and its own rules. However, too many rules can lead to trouble, and too many boundaries can easily cause confusion. We call this kind of confusion—Yin-Yang Imbalance…

"Do ghosts really exist?" I've heard this question countless times, and the answer is always yes. It's just that our brainwaves prevent us from seeing them in this world. In reality, they are just like humans, needing the same energy conservation to survive. But in today's world, where nightlife is as vibrant as daytime, humans are gradually encroaching on their world and affecting their lives, ultimately leading to this "ghostly" situation. Perhaps as you read this book, there's an unseen "extraterrestrial" on your left or right shoulder, sharing these stories with you…

My name is Zuo Weiyang. I am an Onmyoji, the 72nd generation successor of the Zuo family's Onmyoji school. It sounds funny, but it's true. The Onmyoji we are talking about is not the kind of Onmyoji in Japanese manga, but a kind of sorcerer. It is also different from the Onmyoji Feng Shui master. However, people often get it wrong, which leads to people frequently asking me to look at their Feng Shui.

Yin-Yang Masters and Yin-Yang Feng Shui Masters actually belong to the same school of Feng Shui. The three main principles of Feng Shui are the unity of heaven, earth, and man; the balance of Yin and Yang; and the mutual generation and restraint of the Five Elements. However, it later split into the Form School and the Compass School. The Form School focuses on achieving the unity of heaven, earth, and man in spatial form, while the Compass School focuses on achieving the unity of heaven, earth, and man in temporal sequence, that is, the balance of Yin and Yang, the Five Elements, and the Three Cycles of Luck. Yin-Yang Masters belong to the Compass School; simply put, they use the power of nature to travel between the Yin and Yang realms, and maintain the balance of Yin and Yang through the mutual generation and restraint of these two realms. To put it even more simply, Yin-Yang Masters understand human language and ghost language, and know the rules and taboos of both humans and ghosts. Yin-Yang Feng Shui Masters, on the other hand, use the power of nature and their knowledge to alter the cycle of heaven and earth, belonging to the Form School. As the saying goes, every country has its laws, and every profession has its rules. Although Yin-Yang Feng Shui and I come from the same school, we each have our own rules. Yin-Yang Feng Shui Masters emphasize "skillful but unassuming," meaning "heavenly secrets cannot be revealed." "A true master of Yin-Yang Feng Shui, whether examining a dwelling for the living or a grave, will never reveal the true location of the celestial pole to anyone. However, the very essence of an auspicious burial site, within a five-mile radius, can bring three generations of prosperity and high official rank to the inhabitants. My profession, compared to that of a Yin-Yang Feng Shui master, is less technical and less influenced by subjective emotions. Therefore, our code of conduct emphasizes 'concealment of techniques and silence.' Before starting work, to avoid any future problems and to prevent clashes between Yin and Yang, we always avoid dealing with living people. After finishing, we have no obligation to explain anything to the client, making it much simpler than that of a Yin-Yang Feng Shui master. However, these two professions are no longer popular in this day and age. Therefore, to make a better living, I also run a bookstore called 'Weiyang.' Overall, the bookstore business is good, and I've made many friends. Of course, I still have to frequently help customers with things like the following..."

(I) Ghost Steals a Life - Chapter 1: The Prince's Mistake

Chapter One: The Prince's Mistake

Prince is a regular at my bookstore. He's a very refined young man, and he's just as extraordinary as his name suggests. He's over 1.8 meters tall, with an almost bald head, a physique sculpted from years of boxing, and a gentle and refined manner of speaking. It seems that whenever he's in my bookstore, the number of girls in my shop doubles. I got to know him a year ago when he became a member at my shop...

It seemed to be a Tuesday a year and a half ago. Tuesday mornings were always quiet, so I would manage Weiyang myself on Tuesdays, check the accounts, and give the employees a day off. That day was gloomy, with few customers—to be precise, only one. That guy wandered around the religious section for an hour, and when I went to serve him tea, he casually asked, "Are you new here? I come every weekend, but I've never seen you before." It was this question that made me notice his impeccably handsome face. A man and a woman in a not-so-small space, the atmosphere created by the smell of ink from the books was just right. "If you come every Tuesday, you'll see me. My name is Zuo Weiyang." I know I'm not particularly beautiful, and I'm rather thin and small, but I know that "aura" is a magical word. "Hey! You're the boss, no, you're the boss's wife!" His surprised look surprised me too. "Can't I be the boss?" "No, no," he waved his hands repeatedly. "I just saw that the religious books here were so comprehensive, I thought the boss would be an older person." "Wow, he's so young!" I smiled. "Everyone has their own hobbies." "It's rare to see someone so young interested in religious studies," I thought. As I was about to leave after taking his money, he suddenly asked, "May I become a member?" To be honest, I was more than happy to oblige. Such a handsome man would be a nice addition to the shop. While entering his information, I discovered that we shared the same birthday, which instantly increased my positive impression. So, I gave him a free silver card. Of course, half of the reason was his extraordinary temperament and refined face. After seeing his face, I finally understood why restaurants now require waiters to be at least 1.65 meters tall. It turns out that an eye-catching vase in the shop really does matter for business… From then on, to make the most of his membership benefits, besides frequently coming to buy and read books, he would also come to chat with me every Tuesday without fail. Later, I learned that this prince, only three years older than me, was already a professor of religious psychology at the F University across the street. Although religious psychology is a marginal discipline, His refined face and aristocratic air ensured consistently high student attendance in his classes, making him an idol for almost all the female students at F University, including some unmarried young female lecturers, I heard. Of course, since he started frequenting Weiyang, the sales of women's magazines in my shop have increased dramatically. He usually spends the entire morning in the religious studies section. Every Tuesday, when there are fewer customers, he'd sit at the bar and discuss his religious psychology with me—or rather, debate, because it explains religion from a scholar's perspective and interprets faith from a philosophical standpoint, completely different from my Yin-Yang triadic theory. When theory meets unbelievable practice, arguments are inevitable. However, these arguments, where neither could convince the other, ironically made us friends. Later, every noon after finishing his reading, he'd run up the side staircase from Weiyang to my studio for lunch. We occasionally exchanged some ambiguous words, but nothing more. A man like Prince, so outstanding, is someone you can only look up to. I've never seen him lose his temper, nor have I ever seen him panic. He was flustered, polite to everyone, even when lounging on the sofa reading, he exuded an aristocratic languor. His parents were both ambassadors stationed abroad, revealing his privileged background. As for me, my mother died when I was born, and I was raised by my grandmother from a young age. I learned the arts of Yin and Yang from my grandmother and aunt. The Zuo family rule was that the arts of Yin and Yang were passed down only to daughters, so my father was fortunate enough to live like an ordinary man, fall in love, and remarry. My stepmother was a teacher in another city, and my father followed her to that city, visiting my grandmother and me every two months. My aunt, who was 19 years older than me, also retired from her profession the year my cousin's son got into university, and went to enjoy family life with my honest uncle. Fortunately, after I came of age, my father opened this bookstore named after me, which allows my grandmother and me to live comfortably... In short, apart from my profession, I am very ordinary. I have no common background with the prince, and we are not a good match. I never do things without certainty, so I can only continue to treat the prince as I am now...

"Sister Zuo, Professor Wang hasn't come for several days," Xiaoling said tidying the bookshelf. Xiaoling is a student from F University across the street, an ordinary but well-behaved girl who works part-time for me and is one of Prince's many admirers. "Hmm, maybe he's been busy lately," I replied. Walking down the street, it's impossible for any woman not to glance at Prince a few times, and the more she learns about him, the more she's captivated by his aristocratic air. I'm the same, but before knowing the chances of success, I don't want to lose a friend like Prince. So, whether in public or private, I treat Prince like any other ordinary friend. "I've been busy with new..." "The publisher contacted me, I'd completely forgotten about him, I'll call and ask later." Just then, someone rushed into the bookstore, interrupting me. "Weiyang," it was Wang Zi. "Speak of the devil! Professor Wang, it's been so long! Xiaoling was just talking about you!" I said politely. We always use respectful titles in public, after all, Wang Zi is a professor, and most of the customers here are students from his university. My words made Xiaoling blush slightly, and she quietly went to make tea. Seeing this girl, five years younger than me, so shy made me a little envious. "Upstairs," Wang Zi said, ignoring my words and the tea Xiaoling brought to the counter, and instead pulled up... I headed straight for the stairs, and only then did I realize something was different. Although Prince was not yet thirty, his calm and composed nature had always made him unflappable, even shrewd and calculating. In the nearly two years we had known each other, whether it was thugs causing trouble at the bookstore that he happened to witness, or a bookseller arguing with me, Prince could always sit calmly and persuade us to de-escalate the situation with his resounding arguments. When his theoretical approach failed, his fists could also calmly resolve everything. But his behavior today was truly surprising. As soon as I reached the top of the stairs, before I could even speak, Prince slumped down and said: "Wei Yang, perhaps you are right." "Hmm?" "Help me." Although the prince was a professor of religious studies, he stubbornly held reservations about things that were theoretically inexplicable, such as metaphysics, Taoism, and Yin-Yang theory. We often argued about these things, so I was quite surprised when he said something like this, especially since his words were incoherent. What followed was even more baffling. "I almost killed that child..." "No, no, I should say I indirectly caused it." "..." The prince spoke haltingly until the very end when I finally understood the meaning of his first sentence. The story was like this...

(I) Ghost Steals Life, Chapter Two: The Mourning at the New Residence

Chapter Two: The Mourning at the New Residence

Zhang Yiyan, a professor of philology at F University and a close friend and colleague of Wang Zi, moved into a new house last month. The new house is conveniently located near a subway station; it's a European-style duplex. Considering his mother's advanced age and light sleep, making it inconvenient for her to run up and down the stairs, they simply bought a villa, which also includes a sizable basement. Overall, everything is great. However, on the first night they moved in on the 8th of last month, Zhang Yiyan's five-and-a-half-year-old son cried and refused to go into the kitchen to eat. He insisted on closing the door to the basement connected to the kitchen before he would eat obediently. For the next few days, whenever the basement door was open, he would hide in his parents' room and refuse to come out, only coming out when the basement door was closed. He also frequently... They used scraps of cloth and old newspapers to stuff the cracks in the door, and the family scolded him for it many times, but the child still seemed to have a strong aversion to the basement. Later, when Professor Zhang invited Wang Zi to visit, he mentioned this incident. Wang Zi, from a psychological perspective, believed that this was a hallucination caused by the child's paranoia after losing contact with his friends after moving to the new house. Therefore, he suggested that Professor Zhang lock the child alone in the kitchen with the basement door open. After crying and making a fuss for about four or five minutes, the child suddenly screamed. When they opened the kitchen door, the child was slumped on the floor, covered in blood and bruises. Wang Zi felt very guilty but couldn't explain it theoretically, so he came to me...

It's clear that this incident greatly damaged his pride. Although he possesses a gentlemanly composure and an aristocratic elegance, his superior qualities have made him somewhat arrogant. This incident was unbelievably beyond his comprehension. His arrogance almost led to the murder of a five-year-old boy, which must have been extremely damaging to him.

“Weiyang, I’ve always been a materialist, but I really don’t understand why this happened. A five-year-old child couldn’t have hurt himself like that, and the basement was newly renovated; there couldn’t be rats or anything like that,” Prince muttered, staring blankly ahead after finishing his story. I’d never seen him like this in the nearly two years I’d known him. “Fortunately, Zhang Yiyan didn’t blame me, but I can’t forgive myself,” he continued, without waiting for my reply. “Weiyang, maybe you’re right. Unbelievable doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist, and inexplicable doesn’t mean absurd.” Prince’s gaze moved from the purple beaded curtains to the crimson bookshelf, then to the tangram-patterned sofa, then to the crimson desk… and so on. For nearly an hour and a half, Prince’s eyes kept wandering. I’d never seen Prince like this before. Although I often say, “Don’t do business that loses money,” this time I decided to help Prince overcome his guilt, even though I wasn’t sure if this was within my job scope…

I had Wang Zi arrange for Zhang Yiyan to come to my bookstore on Tuesday. Although I couldn't be sure why, perhaps out of professional habit, I wanted to know a little. Logically, in families with both elderly people and children, the elderly should sense something happening, but according to Wang Zi, Professor Zhang's mother didn't seem to have any unusual feelings. Before Tuesday, I called Wang Zi almost every day. The more arrogant a person is, the more likely they are to drive themselves to a dead end…

"Sister Zuo, Professor Wang and the others are here," Xiaoling ran up to tell me. I was listening to the wind chimes by the window. From the time I saw them at the window until they went upstairs, the wind chimes rang three times. The numbers on my digital watch jumped to 10:30, which corresponds to the Li hexagram. I knew that Professor Zhang, who was about to appear before me, was "clean"...

The "Plum Blossom Divination" is said to have been enlightened by Shao Yong through observing plum blossoms, and it is actually a method of divination based on the mind. The method I just used is very simple; you only need to convert what you see, hear, and experience into Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches to generate a hexagram. In fact, the "Plum Blossom Divination" should belong to the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches method of the numerology school within the "Tao" system of "metaphysics." What we now call "metaphysics" can also be called Wei-Jin metaphysics. Later, as the connotation of metaphysics was continuously expanded, it was enriched by later practitioners of divination. This gave rise to five systems, including those related to mountains, medicine, destiny, divination, and physiognomy. During the Han Dynasty, the theories of Yin and Yang and the Five Elements were also incorporated. Now, what we call Yin-Yang arts have completely lost their systematic nature and have become a separate branch. Besides learning the Yin-Yang of the Dao, we also learn techniques like the "spirit control of mountains," largely due to the demands of modern life. Modern Yin-Yang masters also emphasize a comprehensive service, whereas in ancient times, Yin-Yang masters were often fellow disciples, each learning a different technique to complement each other. "Zuo Shi Yin-Yang," however, was a secret ancestral art, where one person single-handedly dealt with the complexities of Yin and Yang, resulting in a more diverse and fragmented understanding.

“Wei Yang, this is Professor Zhang, Zhang Yiyan, whom I’ve mentioned to you before.” “Yiyan, this is Zuo Wei Yang, whom I often mention,” Wang Zi introduced politely. “I’ve heard so much about you.” “Likewise.” “…” We exchanged pleasantries for a while before sitting down. Zhang Yiyan looked every bit the intellectual, with thick glasses, a slightly receding forehead, medium height, and a little overweight. He seemed like a scholar with a good temper but also a stubborn streak. He wore casual trousers and a well-made shirt, his clothes neat and meticulously ironed, clearly indicating that Professor Zhang’s wife was a wonderful and virtuous wife and mother. Seeing Zhang Yiyan's hesitant expression, I cut to the chase and asked, "Professor Wang said you recently moved to a new place, but it seems things aren't going smoothly?" Seeing my direct question, Zhang Yiyan readily admitted, "Yes, to be honest, Miss Zuo, my whole family has been staying at the F University hotel recently. We really don't dare go back to our home." He kept wiping his sweat as he spoke. Looking at his dark circles, I replied, "Professor Zhang is doing the right thing. Could you please tell me in detail if anything strange has happened since you moved into your new home?" Zhang Yiyan recalled, "We bought this house six months ago..." We moved in a month and a half ago, and everything was fine, except my youngest son really dislikes our basement. He cries and screams incessantly whenever the basement door is open, demanding it be closed, otherwise he refuses to eat properly. Even though my mother always spoils him, she got angry and beat him for this. At first, we tried to communicate with him, but he just said he was scared, and we didn't understand why. Later, probably because the workers cut corners during the renovation, the basement walls started peeling little by little, and my wife and I were busy contacting the property management…” “Professor Zhang,” I interrupted, “your family…” "When exactly did the paint start peeling off?" "Well, about a week before my son's accident." I nodded to signal him to continue. "But the property management company refused to pay compensation. My wife and I are both university professors, and we didn't want to argue with them, so we thought we'd repaint the basement ourselves. But right after we bought the paint, my son had his accident. That day, I asked Prince to come to my house and help me paint the walls." "So, Professor Zhang, what kind of wounds did your son have?" "Well, that's why I wanted to ask Ms. Zuo for help. I didn't believe in these things before. Oh, Ms. Zuo, you don't..." "If you mind," he said awkwardly, glancing at me before continuing, "To be honest, both Prince and I are materialists, but what happened to my son is so unbelievable that we can't help but believe it. My wife is terrified too. The doctor said the wounds on his body look like bite marks, and human teeth marks at that." He paused here, looking at me as he continued, "Don't say that children wouldn't bite themselves, and we would never harm our own children." "Professor Zhang," I interrupted him again, "Could you tell me about your mother's condition?" It was clear that Zhang Yiyan was puzzled by my question about his mother, but he still said, "My mother..." "She's 73 years old. Before retiring, she was a worker at the 41st Textile Factory. After retiring, she started learning Tai Chi to pass the time and has been practicing for over ten years. So, although she's over seventy, she's in very good health." "Yes, Auntie is in very good health. Sometimes when I visit, she cooks some delicious home-style dishes. In her spare time, she also teaches Tai Chi in the park," Wang Zi continued. Judging from the Zhang family's attitude towards Wang Zi, he and Zhang Yiyan have a very good relationship. No wonder, since Wang Zi's parents live abroad and he's always been alone, he must especially yearn for the warmth of a family. Nodding, I continued, "Has your mother shown any unusual behavior? I mean, is there anything different about her speech, attitude towards people, or daily habits than usual?" "My mother...nothing's wrong. It's just that the day after we moved into our new house, she seemed a bit tired, so she's been staying home and hasn't gone out. My wife wanted to take her to the hospital, but she kept making excuses about her age. Older people often have a negative attitude towards hospitals, so we haven't forced her." I looked at Prince, signaling him to recall, "Last time I went, she was always very fond of children..." The old lady was throwing a tantrum because of the basement repainting. She's usually very good-tempered; this is the first time I've seen her angry…” “Yes,” Zhang Yiyan continued, picking up where Wang Zi left off. “My mother has always liked Wang Zi. Whenever he comes, she cooks for him herself. But that time, she stayed in her room the whole time. A few days ago, she kept nagging that renovating the new house was unlucky.” “Older people always have more to say. Besides that, I don't know much else. I've only been to his new house once since he moved,” Wang Zi shrugged. “Miss Zuo, I have an unfortunate…” "Please, I hope you can find some time to visit our home," Zhang Yiyan said awkwardly, rubbing his hands together. "My wife and I have a decent income, but my eldest daughter is abroad. This newly purchased house, worth over two million yuan, plus renovation costs, is a bit risky to sell now..." "Okay, Professor Zhang, I was just about to go take a look myself. I hope this isn't a bother," I interrupted Zhang Yiyan. I knew that having a university professor talk about his ordinary, everyday thoughts was somewhat awkward, especially with two university professors sitting right in front of me. "Not at all, not at all. It's wonderful that Miss Zuo is willing to help..."

(I) Ghost Steals Life, Chapter 3: The House That Bites

Chapter Three: The Biting House

On Thursday, I arranged to go to Zhang Yiyan's house with Wang Zi. Actually, the person I most wanted to see was Professor Zhang's mother...

People often say "a new broom sweeps clean," referring to the three fires burning on the shoulders and the top of the head. The "new broom" refers to a person of high status, someone with strong Yang energy. In reality, everyone possesses three invisible fires, differing only in size. Women's fires are weaker than men's, the elderly and children's are weaker than those of young adults, and the weak are weaker than the healthy. This is a natural law, a result of the Yin-Yang cycle. The most fundamental difference between a "human" and a "ghost" lies in these three fires. If one fire burns on the shoulders and the top of the head, the person is still a "human," while a "ghost" does not. The fire on the head of a "high-ranking person" is fiery red, that of a generally healthy person is orange, and that of a sick person is yellow. The more severe the illness, the lighter the color of the fire. In short, a person with good fortune and strong Yang energy has a fire closer to red, while a person with bad fortune and strong Yin energy has a fire closer to colorless…

When I arrived at the bookstore at ten o'clock, Prince was already waiting for me on the second floor. Xiaoling said he arrived as soon as the bookstore opened, showing that his concern for this matter was no less than that of the person involved. "I made an appointment with Zhang Yiyan this afternoon," I said. "Do you want to go to the hospital first?" Prince is indeed Prince. Apart from being a little down, he was "smart." I have to admit I was glad he knew what I wanted to do. "When you asked me yesterday if he had any classes in the morning, I guessed it," he said with a smile, still with his charming aristocratic style. His increasingly thin face and melancholy eyes made him seem even more unfathomable, or as Xiaoling put it, even more "heartbreaking." This girl has probably been watching too many Taiwanese dramas lately.

At 10:35, we arrived at the hospital. "What's the child's name?" As we walked towards the inpatient department, we asked. "Zhang Le'an, his nickname is Yulong." "Normally, who's with him at home at this time?" "No one. Yulong is almost fully recovered, so Mr. and Mrs. Zhang usually go to work and leave him with his grandmother. Right now, his grandmother is just coming home to cook for Yulong, so only a nurse is with him." Wang Zi pointed to the yellow building on the left. Clearly, Mr. and Mrs. Zhang Yiyan lived a fairly comfortable life; their 5-year-old child was already in a private room. Yulong was wearing light green pajamas and was with the nurse. The children were playing with toy trucks on the ground. The child wasn't very tall, but he was fair-skinned and very endearing. His bright eyes, though small, shone with a childlike clarity. Clearly, the child had forgotten the nightmare from a week ago. Unfortunately, however, the child's neck, arms, and face still bore marks of injury, dark scabs a constant reminder of the prince's mistake. It was obvious the prince liked the child; his gaze towards Yulong was as clear as a child's. Seeing us enter, Yulong ran over, grabbed the prince's arm, and cried, "Uncle, will you play toy truck with Yulong?" The nurse also stood up; she clearly recognized the prince, and like all the girls who had interacted with him... He was infatuated with me, so his gaze wasn't so friendly. He defiantly stood between me and the prince, saying, "Professor Wang, if you don't mind, I'd like to talk to Yulong alone for a while." I knew that with the prince's ability to navigate a sea of women without getting attached, he wouldn't miss the nurse's intentions, so he must understand what I meant. "Okay, Miss Zuo, then I'll leave the child in your care." Yes, he understood. He led Yulong to me and said, "Good boy, Yulong, this is Aunt Zuo. Uncle has something to do, so let Auntie play with you, okay?" The child blinked his star-like eyes at me and asked, "Auntie, can you drive?" "Auntie can drive more than just big trucks." "You can even fly a plane? Auntie will teach you, okay?" I said, gesturing towards the door with my chin towards Prince. "Nurse, I'd like to go outside with you to talk about the baby, okay?" Prince fully understood what I meant. The nurse, flattered, nodded vigorously and walked towards the door, glancing back at me with a smile as she went, seemingly apologizing for misunderstanding that I was Prince's girlfriend and being rude to me. I could only smile helplessly; such spontaneity was truly enviable. "Auntie, do you have a plane? I have a big plane, so big, so big! It can hold so many people!" Yulong shook my clothes and started his conversation, before I could even finish speaking... Before he could finish speaking, this little boy with the air of a diplomat began his speech: "I not only have an airplane, but also a big ship. On the ship, Grandma can sit, Daddy and Mommy can sit, and Uncle Prince can sit too. I also have a big house, and in the house there's a dog and a cat. The cat likes to eat fish, but I don't like to eat fish. Fishy, fishy, beep beep beep beep..." Good heavens, I'm good at dealing with ghosts, but I'm really bad at dealing with little kids. I had to interrupt him, "Yulong is so amazing! You drive so well! Yulong, Auntie wants to ask you, why are you in the hospital? Did you crash your car because you weren't driving well?" I honestly had no idea. How should I steer the conversation away? I'll just have to see how it goes. "No, I didn't crash. It was our black house that bit me," Yulong said while playing with his toy truck. "Black house? What black house? How can a house bite?" I was glad I'd steered the conversation back on track. "The black house is in the kitchen. It's scary inside. Sometimes it's white, sometimes it's green, and it's really cold." "What are white and green?" "A house, of course. I have a house too. Mine is red, and it even has a chimney..." Good heavens, this kid's back to his toys again. "Yulong, does it hurt when a house bites?" I could only try to steer the conversation back on track. "He's back!" "It hurts, it hurts so much! It's bleeding! I hit it, but it won't leave. But I always win when I fight with other kids at kindergarten!" I touched the wound on the child's body and asked, "Fighting with other kids isn't good. Does the wound still hurt?" Yulong gestured for me to be quiet. "Shh... don't tell my mom." The child's serious expression made me inexplicably happy, as if it were a secret between us. I took out a piece of candy and handed it to him, saying, "If Yulong never fights with other kids again, Auntie won't tell anyone. So, Yulong, tell Auntie, does the wound still hurt?" "It doesn't hurt anymore, but sometimes it hurts here..." "It'll only last a moment," Yulong said, pointing to the back of his neck, where a black scab was visible. It looked the same as the other wounds on his body, only much blacker, like the pitch black of midnight. All the other scabs on Yulong's body were a normal dark brown. This wound startled me. "Yulong, Auntie wants to ask you…" Just as I was about to ask the child again, Wangzi interrupted me. He pointed to the door, "It's time to go." Clearly, Yulong's grandmother had arrived. It seemed our visit had to end here. I didn't want the rest of the Zhang family to know I had visited the child first, especially Zhang Yiyan's mother…

(I) Ghost Stealing Life, Chapter 4: The Mysterious Mother Zhang

Chapter Four: The Mysterious Mother Zhang

On the way back, I kept thinking about Yulong's wound and what he meant by "sometimes it's white, sometimes it's green." Although I couldn't figure it out, it reminded me of something else: "Didn't Professor Zhang's whole family move to the hotel at F University?" As soon as I left the hospital, I told Prince about Yulong's words and the wound. He had been thinking about it the whole way, so my sudden words startled him. "Ah! Ah, right!" "Then why did you say before that Yulong's grandmother still went home to cook lunch every day?" "Oh, Aunt Zhang said the hospital food wasn't good, so she went back to her new home every day to cook and bring it over. But she still goes back to the hotel at night. Why?" "Hmm, Prince, maybe I should say it this way so you'll understand better." I thought maybe I should tell Prince my thoughts: "Among the living, the elderly and children have the weakest life force, which is what the saying goes..." The origin of the saying "a child is too young, not yet established, and difficult to raise" is what we call the "root." When an elderly person is over seventy, their root weakens; when a child is under six, their root is unstable. These two types of people have relatively weak Yang energy. Besides, people who are sick or have bad luck also have relatively weaker Yang energy. Therefore, these people are more likely to encounter or see yin and turbid things than ordinary people…” “Wait, so you mean…” Prince interrupted me but chose to remain silent. He probably already understood something, but he wasn't sure, or perhaps he didn't want to understand. I knew Prince considered Zhang Yiyan a brother and the Zhang family as relatives. Perhaps what I considered the most basic theory was, in his eyes, the most inappropriate “doubt.” But I continued, “Yes, if this matter falls within my scope of work, then according to normal logic—Zhang…” "Mom should also be one of the victims. Of course, there are two other possibilities. First, Zhang's mother's physical functions are all around fifty years old. Second, Zhang's mother is my colleague." "But that's impossible," Prince opened his mouth after hearing my words, but I interrupted him before he could speak. "First, even if Zhang's mother practices Tai Chi every day, she can't make all her organs a decade younger than her actual age unless she does five hours of strength training every day; second, if Zhang's mother is in this line of work, then Yulong wouldn't still be in the hospital." I finished speaking in one breath, and Prince chose to remain silent. Although before this incident, Prince had always regarded my professional theories as heresy, and even now I'm not sure if Prince has completely become a theist, I can tell from Yulong's wounds that in this incident... In this chaotic war between Yin and Yang, I need a helper. Therefore, Prince must first be mentally prepared. "Of course, before meeting Professor Zhang's family and going to his new home, I can't be 100% certain that Zhang's mother is involved in this matter." Without absolute certainty, I truly dare not be sure. "It's indeed difficult to suspect and guard against an elder I respect." Prince shrugged. Usually, his shrug signified nonchalance, but today his body language seemed heavy and helpless. "Judging from the current situation, perhaps Zhang's mother has become a victim of that house. So, Prince, I'm telling you this so you can observe Zhang's mother more closely for any unusual behavior. Perhaps we can save her." Prince chose silence for the third time. This silence reminded me of Xiaoling's words, "Heartbreaking..."

At 2:00 PM sharp, Wang Zi and I arrived at Zhang Yiyan's room at the F University Hotel. It was a suite; the Zhang family's comfortable accommodations were due to their shared professorship. The outer room was a standard room. Zhang Yiyan's wife greeted us in the outer room. "This is my wife, Jiang Feiyun, who teaches foreign literature at F University." "Hello, Zuo Weiyang," I introduced myself. Jiang Feiyun was very dignified and possessed the air of a teacher. Just standing there, she exuded the presence of a professor. Her long hair was pulled back, neither too high nor too low, neither too loose nor too tight, with a striking silver-gray hair clip. Feiyun's figure was slightly plump, but very well-proportioned, and her light gray hair... Her professional attire was very well-fitting. From her own appearance and Zhang Yiyan's clothing, it was clear that she was a woman with a good sense of style. Her slightly rounded chin and soft hairline suggested that she was indecisive, while Zhang Yiyan was a stubborn man at heart. The two of them were truly a perfect match. Such examples are common in life: one quick-tempered, the other slow; one tall, the other short; one handsome, the other ordinary; one fat, the other thin. This is what people often call "complementarity." In fact, complementarity is not only about appearance and personality, but also about "destiny." And a person's personality is influenced not only by their life background, but also to a large extent by their fate. It's determined by fate. Actually, we might meet someone of the opposite sex who's perfectly compatible with us without even realizing it. Looking at the couple, I suddenly thought of myself and Prince, a thought that surprised even myself. "Miss Zuo, have some tea," Jiang Feiyun said, handing me a cup of black tea that interrupted my thoughts. Clearly, Zhang Yiyan had already told her why I was there, so after sitting down, she began to talk about the house: "We didn't feel anything was wrong after we moved in, except that the child really disliked the basement. Actually, I didn't really like the basement either." She paused here, then continued, "Actually, every time I went into the basement..." They all felt particularly oppressed, but I always thought it was because of the lack of light, so at the beginning I kept the lights on in the room almost 24 hours a day. However, the lights burned out in less than a week, and then Yulong had his accident.” Jiang Feiyun stopped again, looked at Zhang Yiyan, and carefully asked me, “Miss Zuo, is that house…” She didn’t ask the question explicitly, but I understood that as a woman, whether she was a highly educated intellectual or a woman who believed that being uneducated was a virtue, she was more or less cautious and curious about such things; “For the time being, I can’t be sure. I want to wait until I’ve seen the house before I can know.”

"Isn't your mother here?" One of my purposes in coming here was to see Zhang Yiyan's mother. "Oh, the old lady is at the hospital with Yulong. She comes back around this time every day. I think she'll be here soon." "Did you tell her I was coming?" "Oh, yes, I told her to come back early today." After waiting for about half an hour, I decided to go look at the house, but not now. "Professor Zhang, I'd like to see the house." "Oh, that's fine. Maybe Yulong won't let the old lady leave. Let's go see the house first." "No, no, Professor Zhang, not now. If you don't mind, could you give me the key? I can go by myself." Jiang Feiyun hesitated when she heard me, but Zhang Yiyan readily gave me the key. "Don't worry, I won't take this opportunity to sell your house," I said with a smile as I took the key. Wang Zi smiled and said, "Don't worry, I'll supervise you." This made the Zhang couple laugh as well. But this laughter made the key in my hand feel even colder. Many times, trust is a terrible burden...

"Professor Zhang, please don't tell the old lady about this, lest she worry," I had to remind her. "Okay, okay, that's what I was thinking too," Zhang Yiyan replied readily.

Whether Grandma Zhang's absence was a coincidence or intentional, we'll probably find out tonight. While this isn't the best solution, it's likely the only one...

(I) Ghost Stealing Life Chapter 5 Ghost Stealing Life

Chapter Five: Ghost Steals Life

"Hey, Grandma, I'm home for dinner tonight."

"..."

"Yes, there's business."

"..."

"Ah, anything is fine,"

"..."

"Oh, okay, there are some for sale downstairs, I'll take them back."

"..."

"Okay, bye-bye."

If I take on a job involving lives, I'm used to going home before starting work and telling my grandma about it. It's like how Hong Kong police officers pray to Guan Yu before solving a case—it's a habit, a rule, and a kind of faith. "Weiyang..." I called, and Prince was dozing on the sofa in my bookstore. Perhaps he hadn't slept well since the Zhang family incident. Perhaps he knew everything would be settled by tomorrow morning. "Hmm?" I didn't know when he woke up; his sudden call startled me. "I want to go with you tonight," he said slowly, without looking at me, but his voice was firm. "Prince, you've known me for a while; you should know my rules." "I know, so I must go." He looked up at me. "You said you only go when..." "I only go home when it's serious. I heard you on the phone," his eyes grew even more determined, and this persistence made it hard for me to refuse. But when I went to see Yulong at the hospital this morning, the wound on the back of his neck shocked me. When a person suffers an external injury, the flesh under the bright red blood is a pale pink. As the healing progresses, the color of the flesh deepens, eventually turning into a dark brown scab. When the scab falls off, new flesh grows from the wound, meaning the wound is completely healed. But if the injury is "non-human-caused," then it's a different story. "Non-human-caused injury" is actually a "yin injury," which we call "ghost stealing life." As the saying goes, when a person dies, they become a spirit, and the spirit is divided into six realms. These six realms refer to the "three evil realms": the hell realm, the hungry ghost realm, and the animal realm; and the "three good realms": the human realm, the asura realm, and the heavenly realm. Among them, the ghosts in hell suffer the most, but these ghosts are not entirely the same as those in the hungry ghost realm. The ghosts in hell refer to evil ghosts, while hungry ghosts suffer only the "karmic retribution" of their past lives, and evil ghosts suffer the laws of heaven and earth. The eighteen levels of hell actually refer to the ninth court of the ten courts of the underworld, "Avici Hell." Each of the ten courts of hell is governed by a Yama King, each with their own duties: First Court King Qin Guang, in charge of life and death in the human world, and good and bad fortune in the underworld. Second Court King Chu Jiang, in charge of the Great Hell at the bottom of the sea. Third Court King Song Di, a human in the mortal world, specializing in matters that harm future generations. Fourth Court King Wu Guan, together with the Second Court King Yama, in charge of the Great Hell at the bottom of the sea, under the Woshi Rock in the east. Fifth Court King Yama, also known as Bao Zheng, who was transferred to this court after his death, specializing in the spirits of those who died unjustly. Sixth Court King Liu Cheng, in charge of the City of the Wrongfully Dead. Seventh Court King Tai Shan, in charge of the Hell of Burning Torment. The Eighth King, the City King, governs the Great Hell of Great Heat and Great Anguish. The Ninth King, the Equal King, governs the Iron Net Avici Hell of Fengdu City. The Tenth King, the Wheel-Turning King, is in charge of the reincarnation of ghosts sent to each of the courts. Those sent for reincarnation are first handed over to Meng Po, the Goddess of Forgetfulness, to be given a potion of oblivion at the Forgetfulness Terrace and the Bridge of Helplessness, so that they forget their past lives. The eighteen levels of hell are not simply spatial differences as commonly believed, but rather variations in time and punishment. Evil spirits are punished according to their capacity, starting from the first level and continuing until the eighteenth level, the "Avici Hell," where they are condemned to eternal damnation. With each additional level, the suffering increases twentyfold, and the duration of punishment doubles. A year in hell is equivalent to 3,750 years in the human realm, and beings there must live for ten thousand years; even a single day earlier is impossible. Therefore, although demons are outside the six realms of existence and cannot be reincarnated, they are not subject to punishment. Consequently, many evil spirits in hell attempt to transcend and become demons. "Ghost stealing life" is the necessary path for these demons to become demons. Since it is difficult for evil spirits in hell to be reborn, they must steal human souls to survive. The best place to steal a human soul is the spine at the back of the neck, which is where the wound on Yulong's neck is located. The wounds caused by "ghostly possession" vary in severity. Mild cases are grayish-black, while severe cases are a ghastly black with dark green highlights. Although Yulong's wound wasn't the worst color, its midnight blackness was already the limit for a five-year-old. The pain of "ghostly possession" wounds actually lessens as the color deepens. I was fortunate that Yulong said his wound still hurt occasionally. If Yulong's wound truly didn't hurt, his parents would likely be heartbroken. While "ghostly possession" also results in the loss of one's "soul," the symptoms are very different from those caused by fright. Fright-induced loss of the "soul" often results in a person being unwilling to speak and lacking energy. However, Yulong seemed very lively, which is a typical symptom of "ghostly possession." And this time, I hadn't seen... Grandma Zhang is another reason why I'm uneasy. If she were as terrified of the basement as Yu Long, then it wouldn't be a big deal. But if she's like she is now, and goes back to that house several times a day, then I'm genuinely worried. Actually, I haven't told Prince the real reason for my worry: a ghost needs a vessel to become a demon, just as a pupa needs to emerge from its cocoon to become a butterfly. Ghosts and spirits are not physical entities, or rather, it's more accurate to say they exist in this space in a non-physical state. Therefore, when they wander from the underworld to the mortal realm, they cannot cause actual harm to the human body. Just like most people who have encountered ghosts feel cold and have palpitations when they sense their presence, the actual harm they suffer is mostly due to their consciousness being controlled. But if spirits or other entities want to cause direct harm to a person... When she receives physical harm, she must use a vessel, which can also be used to watch over the person who was nearly killed. Most of the vessels are people with weak "life fire." Once they become the vessel of a spirit, after forty-nine days, their chances of survival are almost zero. In other words, if the foreign object in the basement can be removed in time, then Old Lady Zhang might still have a chance to survive; otherwise… I really don't know how Prince will react when he finds out about this, which is the main reason I don't want him to go. "Weiyang, you know, my parents are abroad most of the time, and the Zhang family treats me like family. And Yulong almost…" At this point, Prince covered his face with his hands, forcefully ran his fingers through his hair, stood up, looked out the window for a while, then suddenly turned to me and said, "I must go…"

After a long silence, I said this before going downstairs: "Come to my house for dinner tonight." What will tonight bring?

(I) Ghost Steals Life, Chapter Six: The Demon of the New Home

Chapter Six: The Demon of the New Home

"You're back! This must be Prince. Come in quickly!" I had called Grandma before coming home, and bringing Prince back was also to get her opinion. "Hello, Grandma, sorry to bother you," Prince said politely, offering me some fruit. "No problem at all. It's rare for Weiyang to bring a friend home. Go wash your hands, dinner will be served soon." While Prince was in the bathroom, I pulled Grandma to the kitchen and briefly explained what had happened, asking for her opinion. "Bring him along. It's good to bring a man to this kind of business where things can easily go wrong, and this child might be able to help." I didn't expect Grandma to agree to let Prince go so easily, so I had no choice but to agree. I had originally wanted Grandma to help me scare Prince away.

After dinner, around 6:30 PM, I let the prince take a short nap while I prepared things. Around 9 PM, I finished and asked Grandma for a few more talismans. The process of obtaining these talismans was incredibly troublesome for me. The brush was a high-quality wolf-hair brush, the ink was cinnabar ground from white atractylodes, and before writing, I had to wash my hands and burn incense. There were incantations for the brush and ink, incantations for the talisman, and incantations for thanking the gods afterward. Each type of talisman took almost two hours to obtain, and the time for obtaining talismans each year was limited, so Grandma usually did this for me. Before leaving, I specially took a Pixiu pendant from the shrine and hung it around the prince's neck, hoping this mythical beast would protect him and ensure his safe departure…

We arrived at Zhang Yiyan's new residence at 9:45.

“The subway will stop running in two hours. Let’s try to resolve these matters before it stops. This place is already remote, and once it’s past midnight, there will be less foot traffic, which might be detrimental to us.” In front of the Zhang family’s house, I instructed Prince, “Once you go in, tell me what you feel and give me your hand.” As I took out a cinnabar pen, I said, “If anything attacks you, hit it hard.” I wrote on his palm and asked, “What is this character?” Prince nodded and asked. I could tell he was very nervous. This was the first time I had seen Prince like this. Everyone is afraid of a world they have never experienced before, let alone one that he had actually experienced. “You just need to know that it will allow you to come back alive. Let’s go.”

I turned the key, and with a click, the door opened, releasing a wave of dampness. "Aunt Zhang comes back every day, how can it be so damp?" Prince also found it strange. "Maybe it's not her who comes back every day." I didn't turn on the lights, relying on the streetlights and moonlight outside the window, and slowly made my way forward. "Weiyang, you mean...?" "Just maybe." I still didn't want to tell Prince what might have happened, and now wasn't the time to explain everything. The house was large; the stairs were to the south of the living room on the first floor, and the kitchen was to the northwest. "Where are their bedrooms?" I asked. "The old lady lives on the first floor, the others live on the second floor." "Let's go to the old lady's..." "The lady's room," "It's to the left of the entrance." Prince and I arrived at the door. The ornate wooden door still smelled of fresh paint from the renovation. The room was simply furnished. To the right was the bed with a standing lamp beside it. Near the window was a rattan chair, and to the left was a small wardrobe. Next to the wardrobe were the old lady's Tai Chi sword and knitting needles, which she used for exercise. "Stand at the door," I said to Prince. I don't know if he sensed anything, but when I opened the door, I clearly smelled burning incense and paper money. It shouldn't be like this, both morally and logically. Why would the old lady burn paper money in her room for no reason? Although it's not a common practice... The discord only reinforced my earlier suspicions: Zhang Yiyan's mother had likely become the vessel through which the thing in the basement had secretly grown into a demon. "Weiyang..." the prince called softly. "Hmm?" "There..." I looked in the direction the prince was pointing. At the top of the wardrobe stood a wooden board about forty centimeters long and twenty centimeters wide. The light was off, so I couldn't see clearly what it was, but I knew it was—a "memorial tablet." "What?" The prince took a step forward, trying to see more clearly. "There are words on it. You just said it was..." "Memorial tablet," I repeated, trying to explain, "that thing in the basement..." The memorial tablet appears to be unfinished and still requires incense and candles for offering. Both gods and ghosts need incense and candles; otherwise, even gods might go hungry. However, once a demon in prison is reborn as a monster, it no longer needs the paper money and ingots burned in the mortal world. This is because all beings in the six realms—whether the "three evil realms" of hell, hungry ghosts, and animals, or the "three good realms" of humans, asuras, and gods—follow a cycle of rise and fall, just like the birth, aging, sickness, and death of humans, and the three periods of prosperity and five periods of decline of gods. Demons, however, belong outside the six realms, and thus, after becoming a demon, they experience neither prosperity nor decline, neither birth nor death. It is precisely for this reason that those demons in prison desperately try to be reborn as demons.

"A demon? But as far as I know, a spirit is the residual consciousness after the body has deteriorated, while a demon is not..."

"Stop! Don't talk to me about your religious theories right now. Whether you believe it or not, we'll find out soon enough." The prince was still living in his scientific theories, which made me a little angry.

“No, no, what I mean is, after what happened with Yulong, I feel lost and disappointed with the knowledge I was once so proud of. I have no concept of ‘demon’ at all, I just…” I interrupted the prince again. “Let’s go downstairs.” I left Zhang’s mother’s room and walked straight through the main hall. To be honest, I know this man has always been admired, and now, as he faces the unknown world, I am the only person he can trust, which makes me very proud. However, his scientific theories at this moment have seriously hurt my pride, so I retorted to him without hesitation. His subsequent explanation and the innocent and guilty expression on his face made me feel guilty for my sensitivity.

The kitchen, styled like medieval European architecture, is a traditional combination of kitchen and dining room. The layout and decor are simple: cabinets and a stove on the left, a rectangular solid wood table on the right, and fine-textured blinds that aren't fully drawn. Outside light filters through the blinds, scattering across the floor and making the plastic tablecloth on the table shimmer. This makes the kitchen slightly brighter than Zhang's mother's room. Near the window on the far left is the basement door, tightly closed, its silver handle gleaming. The door is quite ordinary, like any other door in the house, but standing before it now, I feel inexplicably fortunate—fortunate that it's closed. I imagine Yu Long feels the same way. Perhaps it's my profession, or perhaps it's an innate talent, but my sensitivity to the outside world remains childlike. But this is nothing to be thankful for, at least in my opinion.

I waved to the prince standing at the kitchen door, took an ink cartridge from the box, and then drew an ink line from it. I tied one end to the window frame next to the door and handed the other end to the prince's left hand. "No matter what happens, guard the door. That thing that's both spirit and demon has already taken on a semi-transparent form. Although it can remain invisible, it has lost the freedom it had when it was formless. So you must guard the door." The prince looked at the ink line and slowly nodded. Actually, I just hoped he wouldn't go in. Although I'd dealt with plenty of ghosts and spirits, this demon was a first for me. After all, it was a physical thing, and I wasn't entirely confident. The prince looked at me and smiled, saying, "I'll treat you to a big meal tomorrow." That exquisite face, that charming smile, suddenly made me want to go in immediately and eliminate that troublesome thing, and then do whatever I wanted. But despite my thoughts, I didn't respond to the prince. I just continued, "You might not be able to see it. If you feel anything hit the ink line, hit it hard with the palm of your right hand..."

I touched the small tool bag at my waist and the talisman pouch on my left arm. It was a habit, like soldiers always cleaning their guns before going into battle. My tool bag was a gift from a client, specially made of Kevlar material, and the talisman pouch was a small black embroidered silk bag given to me by my grandmother. They were like comrades-in-arms to me; I always did this before battle. Then I took out the gleaming peach wood hilt of my sword from the box, grabbed a handful of cinnabar, and opened the door…

(I) Ghost Steals Life, Chapter Seven: Soul-Devouring Spirit Beast

Chapter Seven: Soul-Devouring Beasts

I want to go to Shangri-La.

The moment I rushed through the door, the prince suddenly said something, but I didn't have time to ask why. As soon as I entered, I couldn't see anything except complete darkness, and I could hear the constant grinding of bones all around me. A chill ran through me. I knew that although I was only about a meter away from the door, the prince outside couldn't hear or see any of this. Clearly, this thing's territory was only this corner of the basement. In that case, this guy was relatively easy to deal with.

My eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness as I slowly descended the stairs, but I still couldn't discern the direction of the sound. It seemed as if the entire basement was enveloped in the mouth of a giant beast. This house had become part of its body, and I had trespassed into its forbidden territory. The peach wood hilt in my hand, in this place rife with evil energy, had formed a "qi sword" from the righteous energy within the wood. This sword energy was perhaps the reason it dared not sacrifice itself. Although I couldn't see it, I could constantly feel the threat it emitted. For a demon about to be reborn as a monster, this moment was like the darkness before dawn—its most crucial and weakest moment. If it failed, it would have no chance to start over, nor would it vanish into thin air. Instead, it would re-enter Avici Hell to suffer the torment of punishment once more. Moreover, before that, it would have to endure the excruciating pain of being devoured by insects and snakes in the Naihe River until its brains were sucked away. Only after it regenerated and forgot its experience of becoming a monster would it be thrown into hell, never to be reborn.

I slowly walked to the middle of the basement. The chill in the room made my steps difficult. I had no time. After midnight, which would be the forty-ninth day since the Zhang family moved in, the entire Zhang family would likely be dead. And the prince and I probably wouldn't have the chance to enjoy a feast. I scattered the cinnabar in my hand around. A few points of light flashed in the northwest corner. Before I could even move forward, a spherical object about a meter high, suspended in the air, lunged at me. I tried to crouch down to avoid it, but something grabbed my neck and dragged me backward. It was cold. I didn't feel short of breath, but I felt an inexplicable chill, as if I were a lifeless ghost that had been dead for a thousand years. "Whoosh!" I struggled and swung my sword with my right hand, cutting the "rope" behind my neck. After barely standing up, I could finally see clearly... What was floating in the air wasn't actually floating, but the upper body of a humanoid monster. Because it hadn't fully matured, only half of its body was solid; the lower half was transparent. Its head had no facial features, just a black hole, while the rest was remarkably smooth. Although it wasn't large, the hole in its face was as awe-inspiring as a bottomless abyss. What had been around my neck was its still-exposed intestines; the severed section writhed like a worm on the ground, dripping a shimmering, dark green, viscous liquid. The liquid turned into white smoke upon hitting the ground; this liquid was probably the "spirit" it had stolen from the Jade Dragon. With each drop of liquid, the humanoid monster twitched and let out a low growl. I think I had enraged it…

Yes, he was enraged. The entire basement instantly felt cramped and oppressive. Dark green "soul-devouring worms" writhed incessantly from the hole in his head. It seemed this creature harbored resentment before becoming a demon, or rather, it believed its death was unjust. The "soul-devouring worms" were originally the soul-sending officials of the "City of the Wrongfully Dead." After those who died unjustly in the city were convicted, they were escorted to the various Yama's palaces. These soul-sending officials were semi-transparent, winged, snake-bodied jailers about half a meter tall, with a hard, thin needle on their head. Legend had it that this needle contained "yin dust," capable of scattering the souls of ghosts. This "yin dust" also possessed the power to break the barrier between yin and yang. Therefore, evil spirits in the City of the Wrongfully Dead who wished to be reborn as demons had to borrow the power of the "yin dust" in the hard-shelled needle on the head of these soul-sending officials to break the barrier and enter the mortal realm. The only way to obtain this "yin dust" was to swallow thirteen soul-sending officials alive. The power of these hellish guards was self-evident. Needless to say, the sheer pain of devouring the Soul-Sending Official and merging it into oneself is enough to obliterate any ordinary evil spirit. This pain is comparable to the most severe punishments in the deepest hell. Therefore, while this is the most direct way to enter the mortal realm, extremely rare evil spirits can endure such torment. Such spirits are usually either cultivated spirit beasts or extremely wicked individuals whose sins in life are beyond description. Once the evil spirit successfully merges the Soul-Sending Official into itself, the official's resentment transforms it into a dark green Soul-Eating Worm. Although this worm can only crawl on the ground, it will devour the soul of any living being it encounters. After absorbing a soul, the worm will detach from its mother body and enter the cycle of reincarnation. In other words, this is a lose-lose situation. Clearly, this guy doesn't want me to leave alive.

The room suddenly felt cramped, making me feel suffocated. About two meters in front of me, the monster was still spitting out "Soul-Eating Insects." I threw out a bag of black dog blood, pierced it with my sword, and the blood spilled out, trapping the Soul-Eating Insects on the ground. "Head above the heavens, feet on the earth, body draped in yellow, hands holding the primordial spirit, commanded by the local earth, to capture the wandering spirits, to return them to their origin, hasten as the law commands!" In the blink of an eye, seeing the Soul-Eating Insects about to break through the bloodline, I threw out three "Exorcising Talismans." "Divine sword, please ignite! Talismans, extinguish spirits, hasten as the law commands!" As the Exorcising Talismans burned, all thirteen Soul-Eating Insects on the ground disappeared.

The moment the Soul-Eating Insect disappeared, the room fell into an unprecedented silence, a stillness that amplified the suffocating atmosphere. The monster had vanished without a trace. This suffocating silence left me momentarily stunned. Just as I remembered to unleash the cinnabar, a chill swept over me, knocking me to the ground. "I have no grudge against your Zuo family, why do you ruin my plans?" It seemed I was right. The monster had indeed been a spirit beast in its previous life. Now, the stolen spirit within it had been drained, and the evil spirit, having lost the Soul-Eating Insect's protection, had reverted to its original form—a weasel that had cultivated into human form. At this moment, it stared at me with a pair of haunting, ghostly eyes that sent shivers down my spine. I quickly protected my forehead with my peach-skin sword and said, "Then why are you making things difficult for the Zhang family?" Since ancient times, weasels have been considered spirit beasts. A spirit beast that has cultivated for a thousand years can conjure all things in the world, and these illusions are conveyed through those ghostly eyes. The life essence usually gathers in the forehead, so I used peach wood to protect it. "They brought this upon themselves," the weasel's resentment formed a protective aura that nearly crushed me. But as it uttered its last words, the aura suddenly dissipated. "Prince!" I shouted, throwing the cinnabar I had been holding at the door. I didn't know if I was afraid the weasel spirit would escape or if something had happened to the prince. Fortunately, the ink thread in the prince's hand blocked it at the door. "Hit it!" I shouted to the prince as I rushed towards the door. I guessed the weasel had only recently broken through the barrier and was surviving for the first time, so it was trapped by the ink thread after losing its protective spirit. Just as I reached the door, the prince struck it back with a palm. "One character, twenty strokes, banishing ten years of demonic possession!" I drew the exorcism character "氵聶" with my sword and struck it. A sharp, piercing scream rang out, and the evil spirit turned into a wisp of green smoke…

"Weiyang"

"stop"

I stopped the prince from entering, because there was something else I had to do…

(I) Ghost Steals Life, Chapter 8: Yin and Yang Return to Their Positions

Chapter Eight: Yin and Yang Return to Their Positions

After hearing my words, the "closing door" prince hesitated at the door, perhaps afraid that I would be in danger again. At that moment, I suddenly felt very happy, but I had no time to be happy now. I had to send this evil spirit away to put an end to this matter...

The "Spirit-Controlling Talisman" had just burned out when two figures emerged from the smoke. "Two Divine Lords, this must be a wandering spirit from your City of the Wrongfully Dead. Please take it back," I said, clasping my hands together. The two Divine Lords I spoke of were the "Black and White Impermanence." White Impermanence lightly swept his Soul-Summoning Banner across the smoke, and a yellow wandering spirit appeared in his hand. The two nodded slightly to me and then vanished...

After leaving the Zhang family's new house, Wang Zi suddenly asked me, "Wei Yang, what was that just now...?" "Just pretend you didn't see anything," I interrupted him. At this moment, I didn't want to answer any questions, especially since there was no way to explain such a thing. I rubbed my left leg, which was sore from the fall, and said, "Call Zhang Yiyan immediately and tell him to buy a large amount of paper money and ingots. We're coming over now, and remember, a large amount." Wang Zi didn't ask why, or even question it, which made me feel that this was my biggest gain tonight. When we arrived at Zhang Yiyan's house, it was about 12:30 in the morning. Zhang Yiyan and his wife looked at us nervously, obviously unaware of what had happened. There was a pile of paper money and ingots about a meter high on the floor. Mrs. Zhang noticed that my pants were covered in blood and hurriedly asked if I should call a doctor. I shook my head and said, "Mr. Zhang, Mrs. Zhang, Wang Zi will explain the details to you later when we have time. Now listen to me, your mother's life may be in danger." Before I could finish speaking, Zhang Yiyan had already rushed into the inner room. Zhang's mother looked peaceful, as if she were asleep. Normally, but no matter how Zhang Yiyan shook her, the old lady remained motionless. "Miss Zuo, Miss Zuo, this..." "Don't ask anything, just do as I say. Write down the old lady's birth date and time for me." While Zhang Yiyan went to write it down, I had Wang Zi and Mrs. Zhang move all the paper money and ingots to the open space behind the building. "Professor Zhang, light the old lady's birth date and time in this circle, then call her home. Mrs. Zhang, please go back upstairs and watch over the old lady. Use this red thread to tie the old lady's hands." I pulled out a red thread from the box. The silk thread was handed to Mrs. Zhang. "The prince should take the money to the old lady so she can go home." After the prince lit the paper money, I pulled Zhang Yiyan aside and said, "Professor Zhang, I, Zuo Weiyang, will do everything in my power to bring the old lady back today, but you'd better understand that many things are beyond our control and we can only leave the rest to fate." Hearing my words, tears welled up in Zhang Yiyan's eyes, but he didn't say anything. He just nodded, wiped his tears, and went to burn the paper money. "Such a reserved yet deeply affectionate son will surely be able to bring his mother back," I thought.

"Wandering souls, where do you linger? In desolate wilderness, in graveyards and forests, amidst strange and frightening events, lost souls, I now command you, local earth gods and all mountain spirits, to search at sunrise, to send the souls a thousand miles away, so that they may return to their true nature. So be it!" All I could do was chant the "Soul Gathering Incantation" along with Professor Zhang's voice calling the old lady home as the prince delivered the money. We burned the money until it was almost gone, then bought another batch, and another batch, until dawn broke. Then Mrs. Zhang ran downstairs to tell us the old lady had woken up. At that moment, the three of us collapsed to the ground, none of us strong enough to stand, and I couldn't utter a single word...

After returning home, I kept thinking about the meaning of the weasel's last words. What did it mean by "they brought this upon themselves"? Did Professor Zhang offend it? "Weiyang, have some fruit. What are you thinking about?" Grandma handed me an apple. As I ate, I told her what had happened. "Weiyang, quickly tell Professor Zhang's family to use that house for business. A dance hall, an internet cafe, a bar—anything to attract more people..." "I understand. You mean there's something under that house. The weasel died there unjustly, so it chose to be reborn here. Even if the matter is resolved, it might not be good for people." I suddenly realized. When I was seventeen, my aunt and I encountered this kind of family disturbance for the first time. How could I forget? I immediately called Professor Zhang and told him. He readily agreed. Obviously, selling the house would be a loss, so it was better to use it for business. How could a university professor not understand the math...?

"Ms. Zuo, this is just a small token of our appreciation. We've decided to convert the house into a teahouse." Two weeks later, Professor Zhang and his family came to my bookstore with a generous gift, offering to give me 10% of the teahouse's annual profits. I declined slightly but accepted; no one turns down money. While the money made me happy, the news Zhang Yiyan brought left me depressed for a long time—the prince really had gone to Shangri-La. When a man is preparing to rediscover the world, the sense of bewilderment he feels is probably unprecedented, especially for a man like the prince. So, when replying to his occasional emails, I never asked, "When are you coming back?"

The prince may have disappeared from my world, but life goes on, and the legend continues...

(II) The Dark Night Ritual: Chapter One - Master Benqing

(ii) Nighttime Ritual

It's already August. Since Zhang Yiyan's new house, I haven't taken on any business. Zhang Yiyan's teahouse has been open for almost two months and business is quite good, so I expect my year-end bonus to be at least several hundred thousand. Prince has been gone for almost three months, and he's only sent one email to let me know he's safe and sound; there's been no other news. I think I understand Prince's departure, and I don't feel overly sad. It's just that life without Prince always feels a bit lacking. After all, he's such an outstanding man; no one wants to let him go for nothing. Although I'm not sad, I don't deny that I'm hoping for his return, and I was angry and saddened by his sudden departure. This anger and sadness lasted for two weeks before it healed itself. Xiaoling and Prince's female fans don't seem to be as open-minded as I am. Even during the holidays, almost six or more people come every day. When the counter staff asked questions like, "Has Professor Wang been here?", I always instructed Xiaoling to answer like, "He came a few days ago and bought a bunch of books, saying he was going to write an academic paper," "Oh, he came by yesterday before closing time," "He came last weekend, but not this week," "He hasn't come this week, but he called and ordered a book from us, saying he'll pick it up in a few days"... Actually, I didn't really have the heart to lie to these poor girls, but seeing myself approaching thirty, I naturally chose money over honesty. It was precisely these lies that made my bookstore's profits not only not decrease after Wang Zi left, but actually increase sharply. After all, students only had the opportunity to ask these questions when paying, and these lies gave them books to read in their spare time and kept them full of hope. So, I only felt a little guilty at the beginning, but later I didn't feel anything.