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墨書 Inktalez
It was around 2005, during the summer of my sophomore year. At that time, I was still following my master up the mountain to practice cultivation, and we were temporarily staying at Baolian Temple. One afternoon, as I was lost in thought on the mountain, a sense of unease washed over me. I worried that I might be forced into a marriage alliance with another sect, but it wasn't his place to decide; this was a matter of my lifetime. The more I thought about it, the more anxious I became, yet I dared not speak up.
After descending the mountain with my master, we arrived near a mud-brick house. It was one of those large square structures made of clay bricks, common in rural villages back then, with wooden doors and windows topped with black tiles. The door was tightly shut, and the only window was piled high with pine branches.
The pine branches appeared freshly cut and were still green.
Upon entering the house, I found it dark inside, with only an Eight Immortals Table present. A small lamp emitting about five watts of light sat on the table. Two people occupied the upper and lower seats at the table, while behind them lay a recliner with someone resting on it. This person was dressed entirely in black, except for a hint of white on the soles of their layered shoes. A piece of black cloth covered their face, and on the floor beneath them was an unlit oil lamp.
The dim lighting made the oil lamp particularly glaring as it sat just an inch away from the feet of the person in black. From their posture, they seemed to be resting or perhaps asleep, completely still but with a somewhat rigid position.
One of the two seated individuals was older and bald; this was Master Zhang from Huaihua. The other was Master Zhang's disciple. The young man bowed to me and introduced himself as Zhou. I quickly mimicked his gesture and greeted him back, saying I was Liu. Master Zhang smiled at me and remarked that I seemed quite spirited. Embarrassed, I smiled shyly but dared not say much. My curiosity grew as to why the person on the recliner hadn’t greeted us—perhaps they were too tired to wake up during broad daylight.
Master Zhang exchanged a few pleasantries with my master before inviting everyone to sit down. My master, being older than Master Zhang, took the upper seat while Master Zhang sat to his left. As the youngest present, I should have taken the lower seat; however, Brother Zhou sat down without hesitation in that spot and shifted slightly to make room for me. Yet I thought it odd for two people to squeeze onto one bench when there was an empty seat available. After thanking him, I directly took a seat on my master's right side, which was also close to the recliner.
When I sat down, Master Zhang glanced at me and said to my master that I certainly had some courage and asked how long I had been training. My master replied that it had been two or three years. While my courage couldn’t be called great, it wasn’t insignificant either; at that moment, I felt somewhat puzzled by his comment regarding courage and position. Nevertheless, I felt proud to receive praise—even if I didn’t fully understand what they were discussing—so I responded modestly.
As I looked over at Brother Zhou with a sense of pride, he smiled back at me in a way that seemed like he was holding back laughter, wearing an expression reminiscent of constipation. This only deepened my confusion; despite my curiosity, I refrained from asking anything because my master had advised me to speak less before leaving home. Although I didn’t know what "speaking out of turn" meant exactly, I figured that not speaking at all would be the safest approach.
Noticing my silence, my master asked Master Zhang what brought them so far this time and why they rarely dealt with corpses anymore before suddenly returning to this line of work. Upon hearing "dealing with corpses," a realization struck me; perhaps it was just psychological, but suddenly my back felt tingly as I understood why they mentioned my courage—I had just realized that lying half a meter behind me on that recliner was indeed a corpse... dressed in black clothing and covered in black cloth.
Although I had seen Spirit Gods and witnessed funerals before, this was my first encounter with a corpse outside of a coffin—and given my exposure to Uncle Ying's Zombie films, I genuinely feared that this corpse might suddenly reanimate. Being closest to it meant that if anything happened first, it would likely be me who would suffer! With this thought racing through my mind, I abruptly stood up; in my nervousness, my hand slammed against the underside of the table as I stood up—a painful impact that made me want to cry out.
At that moment, Brother Zhou finally burst into laughter like an immature child. Master Zhang chuckled at me too while my master maintained a serious expression as he stared at me—seemingly disappointed by my reaction. Understanding his disapproval made me calm down; after considering how not to embarrass myself further, I awkwardly smiled and apologized before sitting back down again—trying to appear unafraid despite how terrified I truly felt. Glancing back at the figure on the recliner—the Boss—the flickering flame of the oil lamp cast shadows of his feet on the wall that seemed to dance erratically.
Seeing this scene ignited another impulse within me to flee; however, wanting to prove that I possessed some bravery after all, I forced myself to remain seated and leaned over the table as if intent on listening seriously to their conversation—even though beneath it all my legs trembled rapidly from fear.
My master and Master Zhang found amusement in this situation as well; then Master Zhang spoke up: "This Boss is an acquaintance—a senior in our field who is even more experienced than me."
Hearing this made me uneasy again; I knew that once our predecessors passed away if they transformed into spirits they could become formidable entities capable of causing harm—turning someone like me into an idiot in mere moments wouldn’t be impossible at all.
Realizing the implications of the situation, I quickly left my previous spot and made my way over to Master Zhang's side. Without any shame, I nudged Brother Zhou towards the edge of the bench and sat down between him and his master on the same seat. I forced a smile and adopted a serious demeanor, ready to listen intently. Brother Zhou chuckled softly and willingly gave up his spot, moving to where I had been sitting. In that moment, I thought he looked really cool. After expressing my gratitude, I focused on the conversation between my master and Master Zhang.
Master Zhang said, "This Boss was also a Corpse Chaser, working in this line of work for many years. However, in today's society, there are hardly any needs for such services anymore. As a result, this craft has nearly become extinct. Yet he was deeply passionate about his profession during his lifetime and believed it was the best way to honor the concept of returning to one's roots."
He felt that when a person passes away far from home, being able to return step by step is a tremendous respect for their hometown. It is also the best closure one can give themselves. Moreover, it serves as a perfect conclusion to decades of dedication to his profession, allowing him to leave this world without regrets.
After Master Zhang shared these thoughts, we all fell silent.
Indeed, how many people can dedicate themselves to a profession for decades and then find the courage to give it a proper farewell after death? Especially in a profession that demands the most yet offers the least in return, often misunderstood and looked down upon by others. They tirelessly help others return home, wearing down countless soles of shoes, leaving behind sweat and sacrificing normal sleep.
Thinking about my master and myself, I wondered if we would have the courage to leave this world peacefully when the time comes for others to perform rituals to guide our souls.
Having spent a lifetime as someone seen as a charlatan by others, would we truly have the bravery to stand by our profession at the end? Would we dare face those spirits we have sent away and the matters we have dealt with?
From this perspective, I greatly admired that Senior Master reclining in his chair. He dared to love his profession with his life, defend it with his soul, and embrace it fully.
As for me, aside from having the courage to pursue what I believe is just under the skeptical gazes and disparaging words of others, do I truly have the guts to defend my profession with every moment of my life? Clearly, I do not possess that kind of courage...
My master seemed deeply affected as well; after a moment of silence, he glanced at the senior resting in the chair before asking Master Zhang if he had already been guided.
Master Zhang replied, "Not yet. That's why I took some time to find you. This is also what Senior Master requested; he wanted someone reputable among Send Soul masters to guide him on his journey. Clearly, among those Master Zhang knows, you rank highly."
My master quickly stood up and bowed respectfully towards the senior in the chair. "It is an honor that you regard us Taoists so highly. Rest assured, we will send you off in the most meaningful way."
I hurriedly stood up as well and bowed three times towards the senior in the chair. Then I told my master that I would go back to the temple to gather some items. He nodded and said, "Go ahead; remember to bring plenty of Joss Paper and offerings. We need to conduct a proper ritual for our senior."
I turned around and rushed out of the door, sprinting back to the temple as fast as I could. I grabbed my master's work bag and stuffed all the Joss Paper along with paper clothes and shoes from his room into my pockets. I also asked an elderly man at the temple for some rice cakes and incense sticks. Finally, in a flurry of urgency, I hurried down the mountain towards that adobe house.
The sky had darkened by the time I entered. They had already moved the Eight Immortals Table from the center, replacing it with two benches topped with a board. A white cloth was spread over the board, and on top of that lay a cooling mat. Two red candles flickered atop the Eight Immortals Table. The room was dimly lit, and the dancing flames of the candles, combined with the room's decor and the nearby corpse of the Senior Master, created an atmosphere that would seem particularly terrifying to an ordinary person. However, for the four of us, it felt like a serious and even sacred occasion.
Oh, wait. Not four people, but five. At this moment, the Senior Master was also in the same room with us. I couldn't help but feel guilty about my earlier lapse in demeanor, hoping that my indiscretions wouldn't tarnish this cleansing ritual that came from deep within our hearts.
My master turned to Master Zhang and said, "Let's call the Senior Master out together to send him off. Is that alright?"
Master Zhang replied, "The senior also thinks so. He wants to see for himself what it's like to be carried away."
My master said, "Alright then, let's set aside those taboos today and show each other our true abilities. This way, the senior can get to know Qiaoling better..."
After my master finished speaking, his face beamed with pride as he began to set up the formation and prepare for the Call of Souls.
Just as my master was about to start the Call of Souls, Master Zhang suddenly stopped him. Everyone present froze, including Brother Zhou. Master Zhang, being a person of strong character, said, "Old brother, since you mentioned avoiding taboos for the sake of this senior and showing our true skills to one another, I think you are a few years older than me. So let me go first."
Upon hearing this from Master Zhang, I immediately understood. It turned out that revealing one's true abilities was considered a significant taboo among our sect.
However, my master's and Master Zhang's actions made me realize how much respect they held for the Senior Master lying on the recliner. They were willing to disregard sect rules to perform a ritual for him.
Sometimes I think about it; rules are not always unbreakable. This realization gave me immense courage when I first started writing. Even though some fellow practitioners questioned me and even threatened me with words, I felt no wrongdoing in what I did. I merely told stories without revealing too many details—just enough for everyone to understand certain matters. Was there any karmic retribution?
If there is, I am willing to bear it.
Seeing Master Zhang's stance prompted my master to argue back with him over who would take this opportunity first and how to give an account to the Senior Master on the recliner. The two masters ended up in a heated debate over this matter, leaving Brother Zhou and me at a loss for words. I wanted to suggest they settle it with rock-paper-scissors but thought better of it; it didn't seem appropriate at that moment.
Finally, Brother Zhou spoke up: "Why don't we ask for the Senior Master's opinion?"
Both my master and Master Zhang immediately agreed. They then lit three incense sticks in front of the Senior Master's recliner, burned some joss paper, and took out a divination set to inquire about his wishes.
The divination tool, often made from animal horns, is something many people have encountered. The term "Divination" is prevalent across East, Central, South, West, and North China, with roots that trace back to ancient times. It refers to a method of divination that involves casting lots to obtain hexagrams.
The two parties agreed that the Yin Hexagram would first call upon the souls, while the Yang Hexagram would raise the corpse. As for the Divination Hexagram, it was unlikely to appear since the spirit of the predecessor was present in the room; he would naturally control the hexagram according to his wishes.
Sure enough, the first hexagram cast was the Yin Hexagram. The master smiled as if he had achieved his goal and said, "Brother, you can’t refuse this now." Master Zhang nodded in agreement, saying that everything should proceed according to the predecessor's intentions.
The master returned to the Eight Immortals Table and began performing the soul ritual. I had seen him call upon souls before, but this time his expression was very serious and his gestures were powerful. Even his usual incantations turned into shouts, as if he feared others wouldn’t hear him. I understood that this was significant; he knew that Master Zhang’s techniques and spells were not closely related, so he wanted to display all the details clearly, not wanting to take advantage of this situation.
To be honest, witnessing techniques from other sects is a tremendous temptation, even if one does not intend to learn them—much like how I find it hard to resist delicious local snacks. While Master Zhang was calling upon souls, I didn’t focus on him or on the predecessor lying on the recliner; instead, I shamelessly glanced at Master Zhang and his disciple. Afterward, I felt even more shameless for my curiosity; it seemed like a case of a petty person harboring grand ambitions. Although Master Zhang and his disciple faced the master, their eyes were closed. My admiration for them deepened; perhaps this is what it means to be open and aboveboard.
A few minutes later, the master called forth the spirit of Senior Master.
He appeared as a simple-looking elderly man with graying hair, likely over eighty years old. His attire differed significantly from that of the corpse on the recliner—perhaps it was what Master Zhang had burned for him afterward or simply how he dressed in life. He wore a gray undershirt, black trousers, and a pair of worn-out Liberation Shoes. He wasn’t tall but appeared sturdy.
Strangely enough, he did not appear directly opposite the master as usual; instead, he squatted beside his corpse.
I couldn’t help but reevaluate my perceptions.
Firstly, I had never seen such a vivid Spirit God before; his complexion wasn’t pale at all. Secondly, I had never encountered a spirit dressed so clearly—it was as if an extra person had inexplicably appeared in the room. Although I had seen few Spirit Gods before, this form was entirely new to me.
It wasn’t until the master respectfully called out "Predecessor" that I snapped back to reality. At that moment, Master Zhang and his disciple opened their eyes; Master Zhang also addressed him as "Predecessor." Then Brother Zhou and I bowed in unison toward the squatting predecessor and his corpse. The Senior Master lowered his head and thanked us before standing up.
As Senior Master rose, I could see his features clearly—his skin was dark rather than pale. He smiled at us four and said, "Thank you all so much; you've resolved a lingering concern of mine. After decades in this profession, I can conclude my life with such an ending—there are no regrets."
The master and Master Zhang immediately replied that it was our honor. Brother Zhou and I remained silent since it wasn’t our place as juniors to speak in such a setting. The Senior Master looked at Brother Zhou and me before saying, "I truly envy you both for having successors; yet here I am with this old body living longer than my own disciple. In the end, I've become a white-haired man sending off a black-haired one," he concluded with evident sorrow.
After hearing this, both the master and Master Zhang seemed contemplative. They then invited Senior Master to sit at the Eight Immortals Table as if they intended to have a lengthy discussion. Knowing that this was not a moment to be disturbed, I said: "You three seniors take your time; I'll step outside for a bit." Then Master Zhang added, "Zhou X, you should join him."
As we approached the door, I was still in shock, unable to suppress my curiosity. At that age, aside from the one time my master took me out for a job, I had never witnessed anything so astonishing.
The fact that one could sit and chat with a summoned spirit was beyond my comprehension. I assumed it was probably due to the nature of our profession.
I found a brick outside and sat down, while Brother Zhou settled on a nearby stone. After sitting for a moment without speaking, Brother Zhou broke the silence. "Is this something you see often? It's my first time witnessing it. Truly bewildering."
I replied that I didn’t see such things often either and felt a bit dazed.
He remarked, "Your master is really impressive."
I responded, "You all are impressive too; I envy you."
We exchanged compliments for a while, just a few minutes, when Master Zhang opened the door and said, "You two can come in now."
I realized their conversation must have concluded sooner than expected. I quickly got up and entered the room, seeing that they had already stood around Senior Master's corpse. The black veil covering Senior Master's face had been lifted, revealing a pale visage with purplish lips that served as a grim reminder that Senior Master had indeed passed away.
Master Zhang's expression turned serious as he announced, "I am going to awaken the corpse."
Brother Zhou hurried over to assist, pulling out various tools—though I won’t disclose what they were. I glanced at my master, silently asking if we needed to close our eyes. He smiled and nodded. Without hesitation, I walked over to him and closed my eyes. Even though my eyes were shut, I could still hear some sounds: incantations being chanted, metal clinking together, and jars clattering. There were no bells ringing like in zombie films or the whoosh of Peach Wood Swords slicing through the air; everything felt rather mundane.
After a few minutes, I heard Master Zhang let out a low growl: "Awaken!"
My master tapped me on the shoulder, prompting me to slowly open my eyes. To my astonishment, Senior Master's corpse was indeed standing up! Though expressionless, it was upright—its arms hanging straight down in an almost exaggerated manner. The knees were slightly bent, making it appear just a tad shorter than Senior Master's spirit standing beside it.
The sight of an impassive corpse next to a smiling spirit that looked just like it was surreal. The spirit smiled at the corpse and nodded repeatedly; the scene was quite eerie. Yet despite the solemn atmosphere, Senior Master’s smile added an air of harmony.
I felt as if the scene was too beautiful to fully absorb in that moment as Master Zhang began using gestures and incantations to control the corpse, making it walk.
He walked very stiffly and slowly. But he was indeed walking. Seeing this made me feel a bit uneasy; if I didn't know it was Master Zhang leading the corpse, I might have believed I was witnessing a zombie.
The Senior Master's Corpse circled the Eight Immortals Table three times before standing still in the right corner by the door. His Spirit followed closely behind, seeming somewhat reluctant yet also a bit relieved. Once the Corpse came to a halt, the Senior Master's Spirit turned to the master and said, "Please begin, send me off."
The master nodded and started the Send Soul ritual. Master Zhang, Brother Zhou, and I watched as the Senior Master's Spirit gradually became more and more indistinct, feeling a sense of sorrow because we knew that one day we would face the same fate. I wondered if we would be able to confront that day with composure.
As the Senior Master's Spirit slowly faded away, the master's Send Soul Ritual gradually came to an end. What remained in my heart was the image of the Senior Master’s kind, smiling face deeply etched in my memory. I believed they felt the same way.
In the end, I noticed Master Zhang's expression was quite sorrowful; under the flickering candlelight, I could clearly see a few tears.
He cried. A Corpse Chasing master shedding tears at the departure of a senior's soul. I couldn't tell if he was lamenting life or honoring their profession.
Once the ritual was completed, Brother Zhou and I began to pack our things. The master and Master Zhang were conversing by the Senior Master's Corpse; I didn’t pay attention to what they were saying as my mind was filled with the image of the Senior Master’s fading smile.
They needed to leave that night, so the master didn’t linger long. After they departed, my master and I headed back to the temple. On the way, I absentmindedly asked him, "Will we also be able to leave with a smile after a hundred years?"
The master paused and looked at me with a smile before saying, "If you live your life without regrets, anyone can leave with a smile."
I nodded thoughtfully, silently reminding myself that whatever I did in the future, I must first consult my conscience—if only for the sake of being able to leave with a smile after a hundred years.
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