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墨書 Inktalez
Recently, I returned to my hometown, enjoying delicious food and fun activities, feeling quite content. A couple of days ago, I visited my master, who mentioned he was going to retire from his work. It had been a long time since we last met, and we chatted for quite a while, sharing drinks. I had planned to spend another day with him yesterday, but he said he had work to do. I couldn't even remember the last time we worked together; I missed those days when I assisted him. I suggested joining him, but he declined. The reason was simple: since I had already graduated as his apprentice, accompanying him on jobs could be seen as encroaching on his livelihood or as a sign of my insufficient skills. Thus, out of respect and reason, he wouldn't agree to let me join him.
So, I descended the mountain and headed home. As I passed through a cornfield, my thoughts drifted back to my youth. I couldn't recall whether it was during my first year of high school or my last year of middle school, but that incident was undeniably perilous. My master had taken me along to handle it, and thinking back still sent shivers down my spine. If faced with such a situation now, I'm not sure I could manage it.
The incident occurred in a cornfield owned by a man named Uncle Xiao, who was in his forties. He was an honest farmer with a difficult life and had raised a troublesome son who brought him nothing but trouble, leaving the family nearly destitute. He also had an older brother in a similar situation.
The cornfield lay in the shadow of a mountain, where there was a small clearing at the boundary between the field and the mountain. In that clearing stood two tomb mounds: one was a new grave and the other an old one. The old grave belonged to Uncle Xiao's mother, who had passed away nearly ten years ago. The new grave was for Uncle Xiao's father, who had recently died and had been buried for about three months; the mourning period had not yet concluded. In our region, there is a custom where the eldest son must offer meals for three months to half a year after an elder's passing. The specific duration is determined by a Yin Yang Master. Before each meal, several bowls of rice are placed on the table's four sides with dishes in the center. A pair of chopsticks is laid across one bowl of rice and propped on the dish bowl at the other end. Incense is burned while calling upon the deceased elder to partake in the meal. After burning the paper offerings, one typically waits one to three minutes before eating; however, they cannot eat directly from the bowls used for offerings but must return that rice to the pot, stir it, and serve it again.
After offering meals for three months to half a year, they would begin a fasting period that requires inviting a Ritual Taoist to perform rituals lasting three to five days—essentially having them chant scriptures at home. Fasting is usually straightforward if followed according to custom; there should be no issues. However, Uncle Xiao's father's fasting ritual encountered severe problems.
During this fasting period coinciding with corn harvest season, Uncle Xiao's family had planted many corn crops. Since only the Taoist priests needed to be present at home during this time and didn't require supervision, Uncle Xiao left his wife at home to prepare meals for them while he went to harvest corn near his father's tomb mound. He used a bamboo basket carried on a shoulder pole for transporting the corn. Harvesting corn wasn't complicated; he simply plucked ears from the stalks and placed them into the basket.
As fate would have it, when he reached around his father's tomb mound, he found himself carrying exactly one stone (about 100 kilograms) of corn. Just as he lifted it up and took two steps forward, he suddenly felt an immense weight on his shoulder; what should have felt manageable became unbearably heavy. Unable to withstand the pressure, his right ankle buckled under him with a severe fracture. Normally, as a farmer accustomed to hard labor, he should have been able to handle such situations well; yet inexplicably, he found himself injured.
With his right foot immobilized and any movement causing excruciating pain, Uncle Xiao couldn't fathom why that stone of corn felt so heavy all of a sudden. Since their cornfield was far from home and it was nearing lunchtime when his wife noticed he hadn't returned yet, she called for the Taoists to start eating without him and went out alone to find him.
Upon arriving at the cornfield and seeing Uncle Xiao's condition, she panicked at the thought of rushing him to the hospital; however, being just one woman unable even to carry corn back herself made it impossible for her to assist Uncle Xiao in any meaningful way. So she returned home and called upon two strong Taoists from their village for help—kind-hearted men who were familiar with them and willing to assist since they were nearly done with their rituals.
Both Taoists were farmers themselves; upon arrival at the scene, one lifted the stone of corn while the other carried Uncle Xiao on his back as they began their journey back home. However, after just two steps, something unexpected happened: the Taoist carrying the corn suddenly cried out in pain as he lost grip on it; all of it tumbled down onto the ground while he clutched his right shoulder in agony.
Clearly overwhelmed by an unexpected increase in weight that caused him serious shoulder dislocation due to improper unloading techniques while carrying that heavy load. At that moment when the other Taoist turned around to see what happened while carrying Uncle Xiao on his back—he too felt an unusual heaviness as if someone had suddenly jumped onto him—causing him to fall flat onto the ground as well.
Fortunately for him though—despite falling onto Field Ridge—he sustained no serious injuries aside from scraping some skin off his calf against a rock.
Moreover, they fell less than seven steps away from Uncle Xiao's father's tomb mound.
Having lived in rural areas for so long—and with both Taoists experienced in performing rituals—they quickly deduced what might be causing this strange occurrence: aside from Uncle Xiao’s deceased father’s spirit causing mischief.
In desperation, Uncle Xiao struggled up towards his father’s grave and knelt down before it—beginning to bow repeatedly while those two Taoists realized they needed someone skilled in handling ghostly affairs immediately—they joined him in kneeling down too while sending word for Auntie Xiao to find a Yin Yang Master.
She specifically requested one person—their master.
In our area lunch is typically served around three o'clock; thus there was still ample daylight left before nightfall—and she likely guessed what transpired—running frantically up towards the mountain where I happened to be at that moment—a naive young man myself—while my master was tending vegetables in our garden.
When she found me she urgently asked if Master X was around; upon asking what she needed from my master she exclaimed: “There are ghosts causing havoc at my house! It’s gotten really serious! Several people have already been injured! Please ask your master for help!”
Upon hearing this news—I too felt alarmed—taking off running towards the vegetable garden with her following closely behind me—my limited experiences led me mostly excited rather than genuinely concerned about those affected—a rather selfish mindset indeed.
Upon reaching my master’s location—Auntie Xiao hurriedly relayed everything that happened—but her words came out jumbled—I barely understood what transpired—but my master grasped it immediately; without hesitation he dropped everything and rushed towards our temple gathering supplies before following Auntie Xiao down towards where they needed assistance.
Upon arriving at that cornfield—we saw piles of fallen corn scattered across ground—with Uncle Xiao kneeling alongside both Ritual Taoists—all three bowed low without daring even glance upward—and despite being sheltered by shadows cast from mountainside—the sweltering afternoon heat still drenched their clothes with sweat clinging tightly against their skin—large beads trickling down their faces indicating severe dehydration.
My master instructed Auntie Xiao once more—to return home fetching some well water—and greeted those kneeling on ground urging them not remain bowed nor stand up—but instead sit down briefly resting themselves first.
The two Ritual Taoists sighed in relief when Master arrived, then sat up and said, "Sorry for the trouble, senior." Uncle Xiao, who was also familiar with Master, greeted him and recounted the events from start to finish in great detail, making it clear enough for me to understand. Just as I was pondering how Master would handle the situation, Xiao's Wife came in. After serving them water, Master asked Xiao's Wife, "Do you have a rooster at home?"
Xiao's Wife replied that they did, but it was outside and difficult to catch. Master turned to me and said, "You and this Aunt go catch the rooster. Also, bring a bowl of Glutinous Rice and get a Butcher's Knife from the butcher. If he’s home, ask him to come along too."
I nodded as Master continued, "With such a commotion in broad daylight, there must be some great grievances and resentments involved. Especially since this is happening on the first day of fasting. There must have been some oversight during the burial. It was fine when offerings were being made, but now that they’ve stopped, it’s starting to vent its dissatisfaction. I’ll try to contain it first; you all go back and call the Barefoot Doctor to check on your injuries."
Master spoke with a serious demeanor, clearly lacking full confidence, but time was of the essence. Their injuries were severely swollen; if not treated promptly, they might develop chronic issues.
There were four members in their Ritual Team; one returned home while another waited at Uncle Xiao's house for news. So when we went back to catch the rooster and prepare the Glutinous Rice, we called the other Ritual Taoist along as well. Unfortunately, Butcher Zhang was not home. After retrieving the Butcher's Knife from his house, we returned to the cornfield.
Master had previously told me that spirits appearing during the day could be quite fierce; they either couldn’t withstand the Yang Qi of sunlight or high temperatures. He also warned me not to engage with those spirits unless my Daoist Techniques reached a certain level. Therefore, I wasn’t surprised that Master was using rather unconventional methods this time.
When we returned to the cornfield, Master had already circled most of the New Grave Hill with an Ink Fight Line, leaving a gap at the gravestone position—clearly intended for Soul Guiding. He then handed each of them a talisman and taught them a Hand Seal. They held the talismans in their hands while supporting each other as they prepared to head home to find the Barefoot Doctor for treatment. Meanwhile, Master stood atop the Mound, vigorously performing various Hand Seals and incantations in an attempt to forcefully guide souls into the grave.
Just as they stood up ready to leave this place, there was a sudden thud—Uncle Xiao collapsed again. His wife, who was supporting him, stumbled and fell as well. Seeing this, Master rushed over and instructed them not to move. He took the Butcher's Knife from my hand and retrieved the rooster from the basket. After reciting an incantation and forming a Hand Seal, he swiftly used the Butcher's Knife to cut open the rooster's neck. Blood began to spray out and filled more than half a bowl that had previously contained well water.
After pouring half of it into another bowl, he used the chicken blood to dot each person's Yintang before grabbing several handfuls of Glutinous Rice and adding them into the bowl containing half a bowl of chicken blood. Drawing circles with his Hand Seals while chanting for several minutes, he then scooped up some of the rice mixed with blood and sprinkled it over several people. Afterward, he pulled out a talisman and dipped its tip in chicken blood before handing it to me while saying, "Hold this knife and stand behind them. Move it up and down as they proceed." Then he urged them to continue on their way.
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