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墨書 Inktalez
At that time, I was not very skilled at the Call of Souls, and I had only seen the Spirit God a few times. When I finally encountered Old Master Xu's Spirit, my emotions were complex. There was shock, fear, pity, and bitterness. Why did this elderly man, who had lived for nearly a century, still have tears on his face after death?
Before I could speak, he began to sob softly and repeatedly said, "I was wrong, I am guilty. I deserve to die. I cannot go to the Reincarnation path." As he spoke, tears streamed down his face. Those tears seemed to be the most direct expression of his emaciated body; it was as if his very body had cried dry. The sorrowful expression on his face stood in stark contrast to the smiling black-and-white Memorial Photo behind him.
I asked, "Old Master Xu, can you tell me what you did wrong? I was invited here to help you fulfill your last wish."
"I was wrong, I truly was wrong. I shouldn't have... everything now is retribution. Retribution! It’s my fault, my fault," he continued to mutter to himself, completely ignoring my question as if I were invisible.
He walked around his Memorial Photo two and a half times, continuously uttering phrases of repentance without acknowledging me, the inexperienced Little Taoist who had summoned him. I felt puzzled and kept wondering if something had gone wrong. Was my Call of Souls method incorrect? But no, all my procedures were standard; logically speaking, I should be able to communicate with him. Why had things turned out this way?
"My fault..." After a few minutes, he slowly faded from my sight. During that time, I repeatedly made requests to converse with him, but he remained oblivious to my presence. This left me perplexed; he vanished on his own accord while I hadn’t even dismissed the Soul Calling Array. What puzzled me even more was that when summoning this old man's spirit, I felt no drain on my energy or stamina; it seemed his appearance was unrelated to me. Yet his spirit clearly manifested only after I completed the Call of Souls incantation.
Feeling frustrated, I glanced at the old man's Memorial Photo again. The tear-streaked pale face seemed to suggest that tears were flowing from the eyes in the photo—so gentle and so real—yet paired with the smile in the Memorial Photo, it felt utterly discordant. It reminded me of that beloved expression on QQ: laughing while crying. I took out my compass again for a measurement; surprisingly, the old man had indeed left. There was no sign of him in the Main Hall anymore.
I searched carefully once more but found nothing. Dejectedly, I opened the large door of the Main Hall. The White-Haired Elder was still waiting outside. Upon seeing me open the door, he hurried over and said, "I think I heard my father’s voice! How did it go, Liu Master?" His eyes were also glistening with moisture; he missed that voice dearly. No matter how old one gets or how far apart they are in life and death, a father is still a father. A father's voice always brings the deepest sense of security and familiarity—an unchangeable fact.
I shook my head and said apologetically, "I'm sorry; I did see your father, but he didn't acknowledge me at all. It was just like in a dream; he kept insisting he was at fault. I think this old man has some deep-seated issues. Please think back—did he ever do anything particularly cruel or cause significant harm to others during his lifetime?"
"What do you mean? In our village, what kind of cruel things could we possibly do? Killing pigs or chickens—does that count?" The White-Haired Elder wiped away tears that had soaked into the deep wrinkles around his eyes, making him look even sadder.
"I mean did this old man ever kill anyone or forcibly take someone else's land? Or did he ever do anything excessively harsh to his spouse or children?" In rural villages like ours where life depended on land, disputes over even a small plot could lead neighbors to become bitter enemies. Such matters were serious; unjustly taking land could escalate into significant problems.
Upon hearing this, the White-Haired Elder became anxious: "Young man, you can't say such things! My father lived a life of poverty and always acted according to his conscience! He lived for over ninety years without ever having a major quarrel with our neighbors. He treated my mother and us descendants kindly and never did anything excessive! As for killing someone—absolutely not! My father had a good heart; he never even fought with anyone! You mustn't speak such nonsense!"
"Have you really never killed anyone?" I shamelessly asked, recalling what the Second Master had mentioned before about the Old Master Xu having killed a Japanese soldier and even receiving commendation from the county brigade for it. However, that was just hearsay, and its authenticity was still in question. So, I refrained from bringing it up directly and only hinted at it.
"I truly haven't. Although we live in a remote area, no one dares to commit murder here. Regardless of the reason, killing someone means paying with your life. If my father had really killed someone, how could he have lived such a long life? This is not something to be said lightly; if it gets out, it would be disastrous." The White-Haired Elder replied firmly. After a pause, he continued, "Can you actually resolve this matter? If not, we can wait for your master to return. We won't blame you, but you can't just throw accusations at my father because you can't solve this issue. The deceased deserves respect; they are already at rest now and shouldn't bear such a disgrace."
Seeing that the White-Haired Elder was genuinely anxious and even began to doubt my credibility, I quickly apologized, "Old Man Xu, that's not what I meant. I just heard from the Second Master that the Old Master Xu had killed a Japanese soldier. Is that true?"
The Old Man Xu claimed his father lived an upright life; the only thing that could cause him guilt would be related to this Japanese soldier incident. At this point, I didn't want to hold back anymore. If the Old Master Xu faced repercussions because of this Japanese soldier incident, it would be unacceptable to others as well. In that era's mindset, killing a Japanese soldier was considered honorable—a mission bestowed upon every citizen by heaven. If such actions led to consequences like this, wouldn't that throw the world into chaos? They invaded our territory; they deserved to die. If killing Japanese soldiers resulted in such outcomes, who would dare take action against them? Wouldn't all those revolutionary heroes live in constant unease? Very few could accept such a notion; I certainly couldn't.
Upon hearing my words, the White-Haired Elder was momentarily stunned before his sorrow turned into anger. "You little brat are getting more outrageous! Killing Japanese soldiers is justified! Are you saying our Xu Family shouldn't protect our homeland? Do you even understand? If you don't understand, then don't speak carelessly! I can't believe Master X is so esteemed yet has produced a disciple like you who talks nonsense! Killing a Japanese soldier requires repentance? After death, one must keep apologizing? What kind of international joke are you making? Leave! You don't need to handle this matter anymore; just go... Don't dirty my home."
The Old Man Xu grew increasingly agitated and even started pushing me away as if I were a plague—someone tarnishing his father's reputation and that of his family and even the entire anti-Japanese movement.
His voice grew louder, and people inside the house began to come out one after another. Seeing the Old Man Xu so worked up made them think a fight was about to break out. They rushed to pull the White-Haired Elder away while I took a few steps back. At that moment, I felt helpless; I couldn't argue back. Just expressing my thoughts had drawn such strong resentment. This also related to my lack of experience in handling situations—back when I was still a university student, I often spoke without considering the consequences and easily offended people.
Feeling unable to defend myself, I decided not to explain further. I returned to the Main Hall, grabbed my Cloth Bag, and left. Many times, reasoning doesn't work. It wasn't fair to blame the White-Haired Elder for being stubborn or unreasonable; it was simply that our perspectives and ways of understanding things were different. I focused on facts while he prioritized reputation—often reputation is far more important than facts, even if those facts involve Ghostly Affairs.
Tonight my computer crashed after writing two chapters without saving anything; it's an experience that's hard for you all to understand. I'm posting one chapter now and will rewrite the other later. I can't guarantee I'll have everything ready tonight. There are benefits in the little yellow box; remember to check them out! The reason for posting in that box is that those benefits are specifically for subscribers who pay for their reading experience.
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