Chapter 76: Have You Ever Seen It?

According to my eldest brother, he actually learned about the unique issue with my fate chart from someone else. He knew what sort of trouble this problem would attract, and most importantly, he was also aware that the City God of Fudigou held an imperial decree from the Celestial Master granting me special pardon. In other words, I was safe in Fudigou—or rather, I was safe on the City God's territory. But once I left, who could say whether someone might not simply slap me dead because of my “ghostly aura”?

Reflecting on all the years I’d spent studying and working outside, constantly brushing with death, I couldn't help but question my life. When Fatty said the City God was a living man, I asked my brother, “Do you know who our City God is? He claims he’s a man of the living world, performing duties of the underworld. Fatty suspects he might be from the Ghost Dao, a mysterious sect that vanished without a trace.”

My brother replied, “Fatty is certainly well-read.”

“So, do you know who he is?” I pressed.

“I don’t know. I've crossed paths with him—he’s formidable,” my brother shook his head.

I couldn’t tell if he truly didn’t know or simply didn’t want to say. Strangely enough, the City God's eyes had felt oddly familiar to me. At the time, I was certain I could figure out who he was—if I saw those eyes again, I’d recognize him at once. But afterwards, I completely forgot what his gaze looked like, as if all memory of it had been wiped clean. This made me wonder if the City God had deliberately cast a spell to make me forget.

With my brother, it was pointless to linger on a single question—especially when he was in a good mood and willing to answer. If he didn’t want to talk about something, no amount of coaxing, pestering, or even force would make him budge. The only solution was to move on quickly and try your luck with the next question; perhaps that would be one he’d answer.

“Big Brother, can you use spells? Like Fatty’s magic, summoning Lord Guan to descend to earth. I always thought Taoist abilities were just about drawing talismans, setting up formations, and martial arts. I believed they had some mysterious powers, but honestly, Fatty has overturned everything I thought I knew,” I said.

“That’s nothing but trickery,” my brother scoffed.

“Trickery? Impossible. When that blade fell, the flagstones shattered into pieces. If that had landed on my head, it would’ve split it open!” I protested.

“There are many gods in Taoism—not just those enshrined on the Investiture of the Gods. Later, there were gods of medicine, Judge Bao, Lord Guan, and so on. Worshippers believe in them, honor them, but it’s not the gods themselves they worship—it’s the ideals they represent. So, they became gods. The Lord Guan you saw might not be Lord Guan at all, but the living spirit people give him. People fight for dignity; Buddhas contend for incense. The power of collective faith among the Three Teachings is something outsiders can’t comprehend. There’s no need for you to obsess over this or to doubt anything,” my brother explained.

His words were mysterious, leaving me somewhat confused. Yet amidst the confusion, I felt as if I’d grasped something. A sudden thought occurred to me, and I asked, “Brother, when I was nearly cut down yesterday, I thought you might be the only one who could save me. But I was afraid you’d get struck down by Lord Guan as well. Be honest with me—if you really faced him, could you defeat him?”

“That’s a question I refuse to answer,” my brother said.

“Come on, just tell me,” I insisted.

“In theory, since Fatty summoned him, I could save you from his hands. But Lord Guan wouldn’t attack me. He wouldn’t hurt anyone, because he’s born from people’s faith,” my brother replied.

In some ways, my brother’s remarks matched what Fatty had said. Fatty mentioned that the power of the god he summoned depended on his own cultivation, and my brother said he could save me from the god Fatty had called forth. This gave me some insight. The principle, plainly put, is quite simple. For instance, black donkey hooves ward off zombies—zombies fear them, but people don’t. Black dog blood can dispel evil, but if you splash it on a person, the worst that happens is a beating. It’s like a book I once saw at a street stall: “mutual generation and restraint.”

Finally, I said to my brother, “Brother, Chen Stone wants to sacrifice that girl. You said she doesn’t have the Destiny Yin Maiden’s fate, so how can she be offered to the Lady of the Yellow River?”

“Who told you she isn’t a Destiny Yin Maiden?” my brother shot back.

“Fatty checked her birthdate and characters. With his skills, he shouldn’t have made a mistake!” I insisted.

“Do you really think Chen Stone is a fool?” my brother looked at me.

Suddenly, I realized I might have been deceived from the very beginning. The birthdate and characters San Kui brought for that girl were fake—Chen Stone deliberately set a false trail to mislead Fatty and me. It was even possible that San Kui’s feeble-mindedness in front of me was just an act!

“But don’t worry. The full moon night is still three days away. That day is extraordinary—a full sixty-year cycle. Only then can they enter the Twelve Ghost Caverns and make it out alive,” my brother said.

“So you mean we should wait and see?” I asked.

My brother nodded, “You’ll stick with me then. You mustn’t leave my side for a moment.”

—

After leaving my brother’s place, I found myself idle once more. The weight of everything happening left me too drained to do anything else. Whenever things stalled, I felt lost and aimless. I wandered home from my brother’s house, but the thought of going home felt tedious. I hadn’t visited the school to see Han Xue teach in a while, and I could also play with the kids, so I decided to go there. But just as I reached the school gate, I received a call from Chen Qingshan, who told me to come over.

From the sound of his voice, he’d clearly been drinking heavily. Remembering Fatty’s suspicions about him—and seeing him drunk in broad daylight—I wondered if he really did have something weighing on his conscience.

So, I took a detour straight to Chen Qingshan’s house. When I arrived, I saw his wife coming out with red-rimmed eyes. I asked, “Auntie, what’s wrong? Did you have a fight with Uncle?”

“No,” she replied, unwilling to say more, covering her mouth and hurrying into the side room.

I entered the house, which reeked of alcohol. An empty bottle lay on the floor, and the one on the table was nearly finished. “What’s going on? Drinking in the middle of the day? Did last night scare you that much?” I asked.

Chen Qingshan looked up at me, poured me a bowl, and said, “You’re here. Drink this first!”

I sat down and studied him. All these recent events had truly worn him down. He was once such a strong and upright man.

“Uncle, I know you can’t accept what’s happened lately. I’ve thought about it—you should stay out of this from now on. Step back. It has nothing to do with you, and I don’t want you caught up in it,” I said.

After I spoke, Chen Qingshan covered his face as if drunk. After a while, he lowered his hands, and I saw his eyes glistening with tears. My heart ached even more. “Uncle, really, just leave it. I won’t let you get involved again.”

“Leave it? How can I leave it? Enough talk—drink that bowl first!” Chen Qingshan barked.

“Uncle!” I protested.

“If you don’t drink, I won’t tell you where Chen Stone is!” Chen Qingshan shouted, face flushed and neck bulging.

Startled, I wondered whether he was just rambling or if Fatty’s suspicions were spot-on—did he really have a secret?

I picked up the bowl. “Uncle, don’t take it so hard. I’ll drink, whether you tell me or not. Today, I’ll keep you company. Let’s drink ourselves senseless!”

I downed the bowl in one go. My throat and stomach burned with fire, so I quickly grabbed a cucumber chunk to chew on. At that moment, Chen Qingshan lit a cigarette and said, “Yezi, I haven’t lied to you. Third Uncle was killed by Chen Stone. You all wanted to hide it from me, but I figured it out. So I kept a close watch on Chen Stone. Even if I couldn’t kill him, I wanted to make him suffer. That night, I saw him and Chen Dakui carrying that girl out, so I followed. Do you know what I saw? Do you?!”

Chen Qingshan suddenly grew agitated.

I quickly pressed him, “What? What did you see?”

“A walking weasel—have you ever seen one? A weasel dressed in human clothes—have you ever seen that?! I did!” As he spoke, Chen Qingshan broke down in tears.