Seltsame Geschichten aus Tangdun

Kapitel 13

I sat in the psychologist's office, listening to the patients' stories.

This is my private clinic. I can live well in this world without relying on anyone else.

The psychologist had to leave urgently, and before leaving, he asked me to conduct his routine counseling sessions in his place. Standing before me was one of his main clients, Liu Huatian, the CEO of the Heaven on Earth Group.

He was a spirited middle-aged man, slightly overweight, with eyes full of confidence and determination. He was struggling on the edge of morality and responsibility; his company was on the verge of bankruptcy, and there was only one way to save it: for the orphanage where he came from, for the children as lonely as he was, he had no other choice.

But why do I want to get close to him and share his pain and joy?

...

In the thunderstorm, I drove all over the city, searching for that girl with the pointed chin.

A sense of confusion washed over me. Was it Hua Tian's earnest gaze that made me do this, or was it because I truly longed for such a chance encounter?

Through the misty rain, I saw that petite figure shivering under the eaves, seemingly bearing as much sorrow as I did. Otherwise, why would her bewildered gaze when my fingertips touched her shoulder resemble mine from over a decade ago?

...

it's all over.

I tossed my rubber gloves into the recycling bin and strode out of the clinic. I was in high spirits; the trouble that had been bothering me had finally vanished.

I know what I'm going to do. Her favorite chocolate muffins from the Hundred Cookie House will be the last gift after the anesthetic wears off. Congratulations on our new beginning.

A large crowd had gathered on the bridge, watching something and occasionally letting out screams. An old man in tattered clothes was struggling in the stinking waters of the Jin'an River, while several people hesitated, unwilling to go into the water.

There's nothing to see here. I should leave and go do what I need to do.

No, from today onwards, I will be a responsible man, a man who can make my woman proud. What is sewage? What is a little danger?

I found myself quickly taking off my clothes, and a gust of cold wind blew by, making me shiver.

"Ding ding ding..."

I suddenly snapped out of my daze. I found myself standing on the bank of the Jin'an River wearing only shorts, with the bottomless, polluted river right in front of me, and my clothes scattered at my feet.

It was still midnight when the occasional passerby cast a surprised glance at me.

My back was covered in cold sweat.

I opened my right hand, and the little bell that I had been holding tightly in my palm was covered in sweat, lying there quietly, as if it had never rung.

Chapter Thirty-One: Recalling the Flash

I never doubted that the Jin'an River, which is actually a stinking ditch, could drown people.

A year ago, I witnessed a salvage team find a female corpse in the mud at the bottom of the river. Her head was so rotten and swollen that it was unrecognizable, and huge maggots crawled all over her dark eye sockets.

One of the salvage team members accidentally touched her abdomen with his equipment, and her swollen, pregnant belly burst open like a nightmare, spraying a stream of dark green pus all over the salvage team member's head and face. The poor young man knelt on the shore and vomited bile. The team members washed him with a hose for half an hour, but the smell still wouldn't go away.

At the time, I was only lamenting the hardships of working people. If it weren't for the Soul-Suppressing Bell that Xiaohui left me working again, I, who was pulled out of the water a few days later, would probably not have been much different from the female corpse from that day.

I stood blankly by the Jin'an River for a while, then blankly walked to the convenience store opposite Banghui, took a pack of Shishi cigarettes from the equally blank-faced young woman, and blankly leaned against a telephone pole to smoke two. Then I went home and fell into a deep sleep.

I miss Xiaohui.

Early summer in Fuzhou is so warm; the sunlight streaming through the glass awakens me with its near-oven heat. I reach for my phone on the bedside table, half-asleep, thinking of calling to ask for a day off, only to realize it's already Saturday.

What do migrant workers fear most? — Weekends when they can't find anyone to eat with.

Thinking of that phrase that resonated so deeply with me, I couldn't fall asleep anymore. I sat on the bed in a daze for a while, then picked up my phone and dialed a list of names. Thankfully, everyone in the club was safe and sound except for me—except for Mouse, though he's probably safe and sound in the morgue too.

There was a knock on the door.

I usually sleep naked, but when I heard the knocking was urgent, I grabbed a piece of clothing and went to open the door.

Veteran policeman Zhang Xiaojun stood at the door, dressed in plainclothes, his hair disheveled, his beard unkempt, but his eyes shone brightly, giving him an energetic and motivated air. I noticed several cigarette butts at his feet, suggesting he had been standing there for quite some time.

He grabbed my hand, his eyes full of laughter: "Goodness, just woke up? Come on, let's go to Shanshan's Congee Shop up ahead for breakfast!" Then he frowned and let go: "Your shirt probably hasn't been washed in half a year. You can stand this disgusting smell. I really admire you."

I looked down and my heart skipped a beat.

He was wearing a light red plaid shirt, stained in patches and reeking of rotten fish and shrimp. The strangest thing was, I had absolutely no recollection of ever owning such a shirt, let alone wearing it!

A stench hit me, making my stomach churn and almost causing me to vomit. I quickly greeted Zhang Xiaojun, let him in, rushed to the bathroom to wash up, and then changed my clothes.

A cold shower in the morning is invigorating. While in the bathroom, I roughly figured out where this shirt came from. After taking it off, I put it in a plastic bag and carried it in my hand.

Zhang Xiaojun was on his cell phone outside. When he saw me come out, he put down his phone and said, "Okay, Xingyun is back. He'll go straight there. We'll meet at Shanshan Congee Shop. We'll talk there."

Passing by the place where I woke up last night, I took a few more glances. Zhang Xiaojun, a policeman for decades, has incredibly sharp senses and immediately realized: "That damned Tan Hui is here to find you again? If I remember correctly, this is where he drowned."

He looked at the plastic bag in my hand again, and suddenly realized something: "No wonder, no wonder... The case file records that when his body was being retrieved, only his shirt was stuck in the mud and couldn't be retrieved."

I smiled and didn't say anything.

I have a general idea of why Zhang Xiaojun came.

I felt a surge of emotion. Although this old policeman was snobbish and arrogant, often bullying others and always looking down on them, he actually had a kind heart and a certain integrity.

From Wenquan Road to Wenquan Branch Road, just around the corner is the time-honored Shanshan Congee Shop.

Xingyun had taken a corner spot inside, with snacks and food laid out in front of her, and was engrossed in eating. When she saw us, she only half-raised her head and gave us a vague greeting.

I ate a fried dough stick and drank half a bowl of porridge. Zhang Xiaojun seemed full of energy; he barely touched his chopsticks before smoking one cigarette after another while talking.

"...I'm determined to see this through to the end. If I don't find out what really happened, my 18-year-old nickname 'the shrew' will have been for nothing! I don't care about Director Chen or Director Xin. These past few years, the higher-ups have only been focused on developing the economy. They won't let me touch this or manage that. After years of being stuck without solving any major cases, I'm about to burst!"

He became more and more excited as he spoke, slamming his hand on the table, which startled the nearby diners and made me pretend to be engrossed in my food, lest people think we were gangsters.

But the police and the underworld are actually quite similar, I thought to myself.

Zhang Xiaojun finally realized he had been somewhat out of line, and lowered his voice sheepishly, even giving the guest next to him an apologetic smile, which was quite rare for him.

He lowered his voice, but his tone became even more resolute: "Xiao Wang, didn't you say that Brother Sanshi promised you that if you could get rid of Hua Zi's vengeful spirit, he would reveal all the secrets he'd kept over the past few years?"

I felt a little guilty and hesitated for a moment before nodding. Maybe it was because I watched too many TV dramas; these kinds of underworld bosses could turn their backs on me like flipping a book, and who knew if they would keep their word? But for some reason, when I thought of Gu Datou's skinny, bony face, I regained my confidence.

"Good!" Zhang Xiaojun slapped me on the shoulder. "I, Zhang, am going all in. At worst, I'll take off this tiny official hat, go back to being a household registration officer, handle traffic, and not care about anything else. These past few years, some people above have been two-faced, making us police officers feel stifled for far too long..."

That old guy is really strong. His slap hurt me to the bone, but I can't bring myself to hate him.

"I say, you two..." Xingyun finally finished eating and drinking, picked his teeth with a toothpick, crossed his legs, and said slowly, "Catching criminals and eliminating corrupt officials is your specialty, Captain Zhang. But when it comes to exorcising demons and catching ghosts, it's up to me, the Taoist priest, to handle it, isn't it?"

Looking at his arrogant demeanor, I couldn't help but laugh, remembering how Zhang Xiaojun had coerced and lured me here that day.

Zhang Xiaojun leaned over and looked at him with disdain: "You fake Taoist priest, still daring to pretend? Last time I exposed your true colors, and you're still here bragging about exorcising demons and catching ghosts? Just for swindling people here, I can detain you for 48 hours!"

"You're wrong." Xingyun looked smug. "Last time is last time. I come from a family of ghost hunters. Even if I've never eaten pork, I've seen pigs walk. Besides, I'm confident I can summon this vengeful ghost and get rid of it. You don't have to believe me, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity."

Zhang Xiaojun opened his mouth, but before he could utter a sound, Xingyun silenced him with a string of words: "You don't need to mention those quacks you knew when you were a policeman, like Master Wu, Blind Chen, or Ma Huihui. I know all of them. They only play around with psychological tricks; if it came to a real fight, none of them would be capable!"

This time, Zhang Xiaojun had no rebuttal. Judging from his expression, Xingyun's master's degree in psychology was well-deserved, and he had hit the nail on the head.

Xing Yunxiang knew he had spoken too harshly, so he put on a smile and softened his tone: "Actually, as long as you promise me two things, I'll take care of this. For Xiao Wang's sake, I'll help you out."

I interjected, "Alright, stop dragging me into this. I know why you were willing to help me."

What's the big deal? Xingyun, this fake Taoist priest, has spent his whole life studying ghost and spirit magic. It's a rare opportunity for him to put it into practice, so what conditions does he need? If Zhang Xiaojun and I turn around and leave now, I reckon this fake Taoist priest will immediately kneel down and beg us to let him participate.

Even someone as discerning as Zhang Xiaojun was fooled by his pretense: "...Which two conditions are you referring to?"

Xingyun held up two fingers: "First, from now on, you, Captain Zhang, are not allowed to curse me again, not even the fake Taoist priest or the dead fraudster; second, do me a favor... I haven't thought of what it is yet, but don't worry, you can definitely do it, and it won't be illegal or make you lose face."

These two conditions were quite unexpected. Zhang Xiaojun was stunned for a moment, then readily agreed: "Okay! As long as it's not illegal or against my conscience, just let me know if you need any help."

Xingyun laughed heartily, picking up a large black leather bag from the seat next to him: "Don't worry, Captain Zhang, at most I'll just ask you to help me climb mountains, dig through caves, collect some strange herbs, and catch some rare insects and beasts... Speaking of which, this time I finally managed to fulfill my mission. Fly farts and cockroach urine were easy to deal with, but seven-year-old rat droppings were really difficult to handle... I had to go deep into the Wuyi Mountains and find this in a very remote mountain village, after digging at least a hundred rat holes..."

In his hand was a tightly sealed resin bottle, the bottom of which was covered with a layer of black rat droppings, and dozens of large greenbottle flies were swarming around inside. "Here... this is the medicine for breaking memory flashes, Xiao Wang, you can take it."

I thought he would come up with some random conditions like he did with Zhang Xiaojun. But instead, this stinky Taoist priest shoved the bottle into my arms and said smugly, "I've got it all planned out. There's a layer of gauze on top, so flies can't get out. I put a farting agent in it yesterday, and now the bottle smells like fly farts, rat droppings, and cockroach urine. There's a small switch on the cap; you just need to open it and take a sniff."

I noticed that his clothes were covered in mud and he looked somewhat dejected, which touched me deeply.

I brought it close to my nose, flipped the switch, took a breath, and then immediately turned it off.

A strange, inexplicable smell rushed into my brain, a mixture of spiciness and stench, sweetness and sourness. Suddenly, countless images flooded my mind, overwhelming me. Many people and many things, which I thought I had forgotten completely, suddenly became as clear as if they were yesterday.

A wave of discomfort washed over him, and he could no longer hold it in. With a long, loud "whoosh," he let out a long, loud fart.

I happened to overhear Xingyun and Zhang Xiaojun's conversation:

"...It's really strange. Why are you so good to Xiao Wang? You went to so much trouble to get the medicine, and then you just gave it to him for free?"

"The principle is very simple. The treatment a person receives comes from the person themselves; you get what you give. If he is good to me, I will be good to him. If you are mean to me, I will naturally not be good to you either."

Section 32

At midnight, an altar was erected in the square in front of the Industrial Bank, east of the Changchun Teng Wusi Store.

This altar took Xingyun four or five hours to set up, and of course, it wouldn't have been possible without the help of Zhang Xiaojun, the head of the criminal investigation team. Otherwise, no bank would have allowed a charlatan to do these kinds of things at their doorstep.

Although most people in Fuzhou are skeptical about ghosts and gods.

According to Xingyun's private boast, this altar is no ordinary object. It originated from the demon-subduing formation passed down by the immortal Lü Dongbin, and has been enhanced by cutting-edge technology he has been researching for many years. It can easily kill ordinary ghosts and monsters.

But when Zhang Xiaojun and I asked him how confident he was, he hesitated and tried to change the subject. We were both very experienced, and we could tell that this trick might have worked wonders in his adoptive father's hands before. This theoretical master, though he spoke with such certainty, probably had never actually used it.

But now that things have come to this, there's no other way but to let him do as he pleases. Perhaps it will work in one fell swoop; who knows?

Although it was a temporary altar, it was complete with divine flags, parasols, cymbals, canopies, and the true face of the immortal master. On the altar were the blood of a three-year-old rooster and glutinous rice soaked in cinnabar. There was also a small bottle of black dog blood, which had been somehow concocted, bubbling and churning in a sealed glass jar, which was quite eerie.

Xingyun, dressed in an ochre-colored Taoist robe, rested his hand on an old peach wood sword, eyes closed in meditation. His face was expressionless. Rongcheng, near the sea, was windy at night, causing the talismans pasted around the altar to flutter wildly. For a moment, the atmosphere truly felt ancient.

If Zhang Xiaojun's men hadn't set up a cordon at a distance and politely persuaded pedestrians coming this way to leave, there would certainly have been a large crowd of onlookers.

About seven or eight meters away from the altar, a dozen or so of us stood loosely together.

I couldn't resist the overwhelming curiosity of my clubmates, and since they were also involved in the event, I acquiesced to their presence as they watched. They squeezed into a group with me.

Afang, Gu Datou, and his two bodyguards stood together, a meter or two away from us.

After Zhang Xiaojun finished making the arrangements, he gave a mysterious greeting and left. Judging from his expression, he must have discovered something.

Silence reigned all around, save for the flickering lighter in the thief's hand.

0:00, which is the time traditionally referred to as midnight in China. According to the theory of Yin and Yang, this is the moment when Yang is at its weakest and Yin is at its strongest.

With a snap, Xingyun's eyes widened. He slammed the peach wood sword heavily on the altar, then pulled it back and forth, stringing together more than a dozen talismans on the altar. With a flick of his left hand across the wooden sword, a burst of fire ignited all the talismans.

That was a brilliant move; I couldn't help but want to cheer.

Although he secretly used a special electronic lighter for the last move, the first two moves showed that he had put in a lot of effort in terms of basic skills.

How many people can shake a whole stack of papers on a table with a single sword strike, and then cleanly and efficiently pierce them with their sword before they hit the ground?

With his left hand forming a mudra and his right hand wielding a blazing talisman sword, the stinking Taoist priest stood on the seven-star formation, chanting incantations: