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墨書 Inktalez
In the middle of 2013, I met a thief, or rather, a former thief, as he no longer engaged in that immoral profession. He was quite skilled in his craft; according to his boasts from years past, there was nothing he couldn't take if he set his mind to it, except for what lay beneath the skin. Of course, that was an exaggeration, but it did indicate that he had some impressive skills.
Naturally, this wasn't a commendable talent; thievery is a profession looked down upon by society. I held thieves in contempt, believing that taking others' belongings through deceitful means was profoundly unethical. Any achievements gained through such despicable methods were bound to be disgraceful. However, I had to admit that among thieves, he was exceptional—clever and resourceful. Not all thieves are heartless; there was one named Ye, nicknamed "Holy." He was a habitual thief but adhered to a personal principle: he would never steal from the elderly or the disabled. For a thief, that was somewhat reassuring—at least within the context of his profession.
I got to know him through a friend's younger brother. This brother, Chen, was quite restless and had changed jobs eight times in just six months—all relatively decent positions. Yet, he would leave at the slightest dissatisfaction. Fortunately, his family was well-off, so he didn't have to worry about starving. Aside from being somewhat unambitious, he wasn't entirely bad.
It’s said that birds of a feather flock together; Chen's laziness paired well with Ye's penchant for easy gains as they shared an apartment. Their peaceful coexistence was disrupted when Ye stole something he shouldn't have—a theft that brought them both unrest.
Ye's descent into thievery was somewhat forced. A native of Hubei, he arrived in Guangzhou in 2010 with only a college diploma and quickly lost his wallet upon exiting the train station—everything gone. He borrowed a card from a distant relative working on a construction site and called home for money. However, while job hunting, he fell victim to a scam by an agency that left him broke again and once more had to call home for assistance.
This cycle repeated several times; whether it was sheer bad luck or fate's cruel hand, various misfortunes seemed to plague him. Eventually, his family suspected he had gone astray or been deceived and cut off his financial support, urging him to return home. But Ye was stubborn and shared the typical dream of many young adventurers: he wouldn't give up until he made something of himself. With his new ID still not arriving, he struggled to find work and ended up severing ties with his family altogether. In desperation at the train station, he apprenticed under a pickpocket and began his life of petty crime. As he put it: "Since the world has turned me into a fool, I will turn this world into my playground."
A once clever and resourceful young man became assimilated into society's darker influences—a situation that stirred righteous indignation within me. Yet I understood that at that moment, all he wanted was to survive. If placed in anyone else's shoes, I believed most would have taken the same path.
However, this path often resembles a one-way street; once one tastes success in thievery, it's hard to stop. As Ye became more adept at his craft without ever getting caught, pride swelled within him alongside his greed. He continued in this line of work for two or three years until one day at the train station when he stole a copper mirror from a Taoist priest—this act finally brought about his reckoning.
When my friend Chen's older brother called me about this incident, his words were vague; he mentioned that his brother's roommate was being haunted by spirits and hoped I could help investigate. When I asked for specifics on what was happening, Chen replied: "Oh come on, just go check it out! I can't explain it clearly; my brother has been acting crazy lately. Please consider this my request."
Chen is a university teacher known for his integrity and seriousness; he rarely jokes around and has a laid-back demeanor. His urgency suggested something serious was amiss. I said, "Alright then, send me your brother's address. I'll see what I can do but can't guarantee a complete solution." He offered to accompany me but I declined; such matters are best handled by those directly involved.
After hanging up, I packed my bag and prepared to visit Chen's place. It was still midday; regardless of the situation, it seemed wise to check things out first during daylight hours for safety.
Upon arriving at Chen's home and knocking on the door, it opened quickly to reveal Old Chen himself. He appeared flustered with sweat still glistening on his forehead—evidently just having rushed over. Half-jokingly I remarked, "Did you guys get into a fight? You're sweating so much."
"Old Chen" said, "I just arrived as well, and I have to rush back for class this afternoon, so I'll leave this to you." He pointed to the slightly chubby person standing to the left of the sofa and continued, "That's my brother; you can just call him 'Xiao Chen.' The other one is his roommate, 'Holy.' Then he pointed at me and said, 'This is the master I've contacted for you. If you have any issues, just talk to him directly. He is a Taoist and specializes in resolving situations like yours. You need to be honest with him and cooperate actively.'"
Perhaps he was worried that they wouldn't feel comfortable with me or wouldn't believe in my abilities, so he went on and on like a nagging parent. I wasn't sure if all university professors were like that, but I really couldn't take it anymore. I quickly waved my hand and said, "Alright, alright, Old Chen, you can go now. I'll handle things here; we can't afford to delay school classes."
After sending "Old Chen" off, I didn't immediately ask the two of them what had happened. Instead, I began to examine the apartment. The lights were on in broad daylight, the doors and windows were tightly shut, and the curtains were drawn tightly. Looking at them again, "Xiao Chen" seemed relatively fine and somewhat alert, while "Holy" had dark circles under his eyes and a vacant expression. His legs were shaking continuously as if he were in a state of panic; he looked utterly lifeless. This was clearly a sign of being haunted by a malevolent spirit, and it seemed quite severe. Although he hadn't been possessed yet, at this rate, it wouldn't be long before that happened.
The atmosphere in the room was uncomfortable. I didn't speak to them but walked over and pulled open the curtains of the balcony door. Suddenly, light flooded into the room, casting a beam of sunlight onto the sofa and onto them as well. However, at that moment, "Holy" immediately panicked and said, "Brother Liu, Brother Liu, please pull the curtains back; the sunlight is making me very uncomfortable." After he spoke, "Xiao Chen" chimed in with agreement and rushed over to pull the curtains.
I quickly stopped him and said, "If you don't want to feel better, then go ahead and close them. You are haunted by malevolent spirits; your Yang Qi is diminishing. You've kept this place devoid of any vitality for too long; if you don't get some sunlight soon, it will be akin to courting death."
Upon hearing this, "Xiao Chen" ceased his actions and sat down on the sofa with a look of resignation. He squinted his eyes at me while "Holy," exposed to the sunlight, began shaking even more violently and struggled to keep his eyes open. Yet he didn't dare move from his spot. After a while, he started itching all over his body from head to toe; he began scratching vigorously while exclaiming in discomfort repeatedly. At that moment, I was even more convinced that he was indeed haunted by a malevolent spirit—one that was far more troublesome than any ordinary spirit I had dealt with before. This spirit seemed to be composed entirely of Yin Qi with no other attributes. It appeared merciless in its tormenting of "Holy," who had reached this state because of it. Such spirits were definitely not simple wandering souls or ghosts; without certain circumstances or misfortune leading one to encounter such a spirit, it would be nearly impossible.
Seeing this unfold, "Xiao Chen" quickly pleaded with me, saying, "Brother Liu, maybe we should close the curtains after all; he seems like he's really struggling."
This reaction was normal; it indicated that the evil energy couldn't withstand exposure to sunlight and was gradually dissipating—similar to how an itchy wound feels during healing. It was just that this Evil Qi affected his entire body.
I replied, "It's fine; let him soak up some sun for now. Go get me a bowl of hot water."
After administering a purification talisman mixed with water for "Holy" to drink, he began to improve gradually; the itching subsided somewhat. The sunlight continued streaming down on him, but he still struggled to open his eyes. Seeing that things were getting better, I instructed "Xiao Chen" to pull the curtains back.
I then took out my compass without hesitation. Before I even began my search, I noticed it swaying erratically as if there were spirits everywhere in the room. After glancing around briefly in shock—this place felt like a cemetery—I examined the compass's movement closely and ultimately deduced that there was only one spirit present here. However, its Yin Qi was so heavy that remnants of supernatural energy lingered wherever it drifted through the room. That explained why the compass reacted so strongly.
After recovering from my shock, I calmed myself down and thought it best to understand this situation first before determining whether I could handle it. If this spirit had an unusual background or if its resentment was too strong for me to dispel easily, then I might have no choice but to step aside and let them seek help elsewhere.
I shook my head and then sat down across from Holy, beginning to ask what exactly was going on. How had I gotten involved with such a dark spirit?
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