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墨書 Inktalez
In the northwest twelve kilometers of Dayi County, Chengdu, there lies a place called Crane Ming Township. Within Crane Ming Township, in Sanfeng Village, stands a mountain known as Crane Crying Mountain, which is recognized as the birthplace of Taoism.
During the reign of Emperor Shun of the Eastern Han Dynasty, in the year 126 AD, Zhang Ling, a native of Pei County in present-day Jiangsu Province, advocated for the Zhengyi sect of Taoism at Crane Crying Mountain. This sect is commonly referred to as Wudoumi Dao or Tianshi Dao, with Laozi as its spiritual leader and the Tao Te Ching as its primary scripture. This marked the official establishment of Taoism. Crane Crying Mountain is globally acknowledged as the origin of Chinese Taoism and a pilgrimage site for Taoists worldwide, often referred to as the "Daoist Paradise" or "Taoist Ancestral Hall."
In the graduation season of 2010, as a wild disciple of Taoism, I felt compelled to visit this renowned mountain rich in Taoist heritage. It was entirely normal to seek fresh air outside after being cooped up in the train carriage. However, standing still for three hours raised my suspicions.
What struck me even more was that she was not just standing there; her shoulders occasionally trembled slightly, clearly indicating she was quietly sobbing.
Her actions drew my attention. I glanced at her; from her attire and silhouette, she appeared to be no older than twenty. She was petite, under five feet six inches tall, wearing a white dress with long hair cascading down her back in a somewhat disheveled manner. The darkness outside made it hard to see clearly through the train door's glass, but I could faintly make out two light streaks on her pale face—evidence of tears. It was evident she was burdened by something serious. And it certainly didn't seem like she was crying out of joy; I found it hard to believe she had been moved to tears.
I am not one to meddle in others' affairs, and I knew that approaching someone randomly while traveling could raise their defenses. So instead of interrupting her, I finished my cigarette and returned to the carriage. I intended to close my eyes and rest but found myself unable to shake off the image of that sobbing girl from my mind. I knew she must have a story worth telling. I began speculating about why she was crying—perhaps heartbreak, being deceived, or running away from home. The possibilities multiplied in my thoughts until I realized that if I continued down this path, I would only become more restless and unable to sleep through the night. So I made a decision: if she was still there after an hour, I would ask her what was wrong.
An hour passed at an excruciatingly slow pace. I stood up to stretch my neck and limbs before heading back toward the smoking area.
Seeing that she was still there—now crouched on the ground instead of standing—her position remained unchanged. She had her back against a metal wall and her head lowered as she continued to sob softly. While I was shocked by how long she had been crying, a flicker of excitement surged within me; although I knew it wasn't right to hope someone remained trapped in sorrow, my overwhelming curiosity took hold of most of my rationality. Not one to interfere usually didn’t mean I lacked curiosity. After pretending to smoke another cigarette, I approached her gently and tapped her shoulder, asking softly, "Hello, can I help you with anything?"
She jolted slightly at my touch, clearly caught off guard. Slowly lifting her head to look at me, she shook it without speaking. Her face revealed deep helplessness and even a hint of despair; her features weren't particularly delicate but came together in a way that was pleasing enough—except for those faint tear streaks that prevented me from appreciating her beauty fully. Her eyes were bloodshot from prolonged crying, making them appear especially swollen; dark shadows under her eyes indicated that her luck had been particularly low lately—perhaps even encountering something supernatural.
A person's life resembles a wave line; there exists a critical point at its lowest value. Once reached, one's perspective narrows significantly, making it unsurprising to perceive things from the spirit world during such times. Therefore, when you feel your luck is low, you must find ways to improve it; otherwise, everything will go awry and you might even see things you'd rather not witness. Improving one's fortune is relatively simple—perform acts of kindness or pray more often.
She shook her head without speaking but continued staring blankly at me with lifeless eyes—as if regarding me as an object rather than focusing on me directly—clearly still lost in her sorrow.
"Have you encountered some ghostly affairs?" I asked boldly; if I wanted her to snap out of it quickly, I'd need to use striking words to open up the conversation. Even if it were merely speculation on my part, it was better than remaining silent.
She was clearly startled for a moment, then suddenly stood up and asked, "How did you know that I feel so helpless right now? I even feel like I want to die. Boo hoo..." After saying this, she began to cry again. Compared to her previous light sobbing, this time her tears seemed to burst forth like a flood breaking through a dam. However, it appeared that her tears had already dried up, and they didn't match the intensity of her outburst.
I quickly tried to stop her, saying, "Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry. If others see us, they'll think I've done something to you. The reason I know is that I'm actually a Taoist priest. If you've really encountered any Ghostly Affairs, you can tell me about it; maybe I can offer some help."
Upon hearing this, she gradually stopped crying. Her eyes lit up as she took a step forward and grabbed my hand, saying, "Are you really a Taoist? Can you help me?" Just as I awkwardly thought about how to pull my hand away, she slowly released it and murmured, "Impossible. How can there be such a young and handsome Taoist? You must be an actor or something..." After saying this, her gaze became vacant again.
I shook my head in silence and took out a talisman from my pocket, waving it in front of her a few times. Then I formed some Hand Seals and quickly recited a calming incantation before gently tapping her crown chakra. After a few seconds, I asked, "Do you feel a bit better now?"
Her previously dim eyes regained their sparkle as she asked in surprise, "Are you really a Taoist?"
I nodded without speaking; at this point, whether I spoke or not didn't matter anymore. If she still didn't believe me, it would only mean we were fated to be apart. No matter how curious I was, I wouldn't wade into these murky waters. In my view, many things cannot be forced; if one insists on digging deeper into matters that should remain vague, the consequences often backfire.
Seeing that I wasn't speaking, she began to recount her story herself. She said, "Big brother, you're right; I have indeed encountered Ghostly Affairs. None of my family supports me; they all pressure me to go back. I have a fiancé in our town, but he passed away suddenly before we got married. Our families arranged the match through a Matchmaker, so we didn't have much emotional foundation. My elders are quite traditional and stubborn; plus, we're poor and have received quite a bit of help from his family. Even the money for my college tuition was borrowed from them. So my grandfather and father decided to betroth me to him. He was honest and good-natured towards me, so I didn't resist too much. I planned to return after graduation to marry him, but now I'm only a Sophomore and suddenly received news of his death." At this point, she started crying again, her sobs seeming to grow more intense.
Feeling somewhat helpless, the train arrived at a stop. I said, "We're at the station now; stop crying for a moment and calm down. We can talk more when the train starts moving again." She nodded as we moved aside; there weren't many people getting on or off the train. A few minutes later when the train started again, she had calmed down significantly.
I smiled and shrugged as I said, "Even if he was your fiancé, it's only right to go back and pay your respects after his passing. Surely your family won't force you to mourn for three years?"
She shook her head and replied, "I already went back to see him off when he passed away; I'm very sad about his death."
"Since you've already gone back once, why are your family pressuring you to return now?" I asked with some confusion. It felt like this return was definitely against her will; otherwise, she wouldn't be so heartbroken over it—it couldn't just be something ordinary.
Upon hearing my question, she looked somewhat bewildered and fear flickered across her face as she trembled slightly while saying, "His father had a dream where he said he was Dreaming. In the dream, he expressed concern for me; we weren't married yet and he didn't want to leave."
I said, "With such a strong obsession, he must really like you a lot."
She nodded and replied, "Yes, he does like me very much. But you know, after his father had this dream, he went to find a shaman for advice. The shaman surprisingly said that the solution was simple: I just needed to be called back to marry his son in a symbolic wedding ceremony."
"Yin Marriage?" I exclaimed in astonishment.
Yin Marriage was quite common in ancient times, but I didn't expect that it was still practiced in some places today. Yin Marriage comes in two forms. The more common one involves a pair of unmarried individuals who, after death, are introduced to each other through Yin Marriage and are married posthumously. This is essentially finding a spouse for the deceased, as traditional beliefs hold that if they are not married, their spirits may cause trouble and disturb the household peace. However, this form of marriage involves two deceased individuals, so it doesn't seem particularly strange.
The other form occurs when one party dies before the marriage can take place. If the deceased was more dominant in life, they may demand that the two be forcibly married using the most traditional wedding rites. This type of ceremony can take two forms: one where living family members hold a memorial photo and perform the ceremony with the living partner; the other involves directly using a frame to secure the corpse and having it participate in the ceremony with the living partner. Of course, the officiant is not just any ordinary host but a specialized Yin Yang Master who knows specific techniques and procedures unique to this practice.
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