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墨書 Inktalez
"Can you tell who is borrowing whose luck?" My voice was dry.
Zhang Jingming stared at my face for a long time before suddenly reaching out to brush aside the hair behind my left ear. "Indeed, there’s an almost invisible red line here." He took out a small mirror and handed it to me. There, behind my ear, was a thin red mark, as delicate as a hair, resembling a blood vessel just beneath the skin.
"This is the mark of Meridian Flow being extracted," he said in a low voice. "Have you often felt inexplicably fatigued over the years? Is your career not going well? Is your health deteriorating with no apparent cause?"
I nodded in shock, cold sweat soaking my back.
"Take me to see that grave," Zhang Jingming said as he stood up. "Only by seeing it with my own eyes can I determine what kind of situation this is."
On the weekend, I took Zhang Jingming to my father-in-law's grave. Along the way, his expression grew increasingly serious. When we arrived at the cemetery, despite it being midday with the sun shining brightly, I felt a chilling coldness.
Zhang Jingming walked around the grave, occasionally using a compass to measure. Finally, he stopped in front of the tombstone, his face turning pale. "What a vicious trap."
"What do you mean?" My voice trembled.
"This is not ordinary Borrowing Luck; this is Borrowing Luck for extending life." He pointed at the tombstone and the surrounding terrain. "Look, the grave is built at the highest point of this small hill, doesn’t it resemble a person sitting in an armchair? The two dead trees on either side are like armrests, and that depression behind is like a chair back, while the tombstone..."
He turned to the back of the tombstone and pointed at the runes. "These are spells for extending life. The entire layout forms a Gathering Luck Chair; when living people worship at its front, their luck will be absorbed by the soul sitting in the 'chair.'"
My legs went weak, nearly unable to support me. "Are you saying... my father-in-law's spirit is absorbing my luck?"
"Not just that." Zhang Jingming shook his head. "The most insidious part of this trap is that it requires close relatives to willingly participate. Your wife... does she know?"
I felt as if struck by lightning, recalling how every year Lin Wen would prepare offerings and remind me to visit the grave. For ten years without fail.
"It’s impossible..." I murmured. "Lin Wen wouldn’t harm me..."
"Perhaps she doesn’t know the whole truth." Zhang Jingming sighed. "Such secret arts are often passed down only to men. What did your father-in-law do for a living?"
"He... was the owner of a construction company specializing in ancient building restoration." Suddenly, something clicked in my mind. "Oh right, he became obsessed with feng shui and metaphysics in his later years; our home is filled with related books."
Zhang Jingming nodded. "That makes sense. He used his professional knowledge to set up this trap and continued to enjoy your luck after his death. The worse your fortune gets, the more stable his existence becomes."
"Existence?" I caught onto this strange wording. "You mean his... ghost?"
Zhang Jingming didn’t answer directly but instead took out several copper coins and a yellow talisman from his bag. "This trap must be broken; otherwise, within three years, you will exhaust your luck and die."
He instructed me to bite my finger and let my blood drip onto the yellow talisman before placing it on the runes of the tombstone. The moment the talisman touched the stone tablet, a gust of cold wind surged forth, and the temperature around us plummeted. To my horror, I noticed our breath had turned into white mist.
"Quickly! Bury the coins where I taught you!" Zhang Jingming shouted.
I hurriedly followed his earlier instructions and buried the coins in the ground. As the last coin was placed into the earth, there was suddenly a tremor beneath us; the talisman on the tombstone ignited without fire, producing an eerie green flame.
"Ah—!"
A piercing scream echoed from an unknown source, causing me to collapse to the ground in fear. That voice... it sounded eerily similar to my father-in-law's voice when he was alive.
"Run! We need to get out of here!" Zhang Jingming pulled me up. "The situation is compromised, but he won't let you go easily!"
We stumbled down the mountain, the sound of breaking branches behind us suggesting that something was chasing us. When we reached the halfway point, I couldn't help but glance back, and my heart nearly stopped—
In front of my father-in-law's gravestone, a shadowy figure stood, reaching out toward us with its bony arm...
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