Crossing through Laos, I entered Thailand from Chiang Khong. My mind was heavy with thoughts, yet my face was filled with smiles. Leaving my hometown and now my homeland felt like Tang Sanzang embarking on the journey to the West—excessive sorrow or joy should be set aside.
Fate sometimes doesn’t allow people to stop. Stranger, are you also on the road like me?
Xie Lingyu only told me she had tracked me to Thailand but didn’t elaborate further. I always felt she was hiding something from me, especially after encountering the bronze jar on Zheyin Mountain. I couldn’t make sense of it. Xie Lingyu claimed she had only spent two years with my grandfather and didn’t know the secret of the bronze jar either, but I couldn’t quite believe her.
By the end of June, Chiang Mai, Thailand, was bustling with tourists. As the second-largest city in Thailand and once the historical capital, it was exceptionally vibrant, with thriving Buddhist activities. The crowds of visitors were overwhelming…
At that moment, I was sitting in a Thai taxi with a cat and a dog in tow. After tracking all this way, Xie Lingyu was resting inside the jade ruler, not telling me what to do next.
I had bought a Thai phrasebook along the way. The driver chattered away with a cheerful “Sawadika,” probably telling me about the fun places in Chiang Mai. I could only respond in English that I didn’t understand. Eventually, the driver switched to English. I told him to find me a hotel first, and then I’d figure out the rest.
The driver advised me in English: “If you’re here to enjoy Chiang Mai, you must visit the temples. But don’t easily trust those selling amulets nearby, especially those claiming to sell corpse oil.” He even gave me a map of Chiang Mai and kindly warned me not to believe street vendors, particularly those “dog tag masters” who promise to change your fortune. I thanked him repeatedly: “You’re a good person.”
I laughed: “Of course, how could there be so much corpse oil sold at street stalls?” As I got out of the car, the driver said in Chinese: “Thailand and China are both… beautiful countries…” I gave him a thumbs-up: “Thailand is a beautiful country.”
The hotel I checked into had many Chinese guests. The design was stylish, with some Thai-inspired decorations.
However, the front desk was unhappy about me bringing pets. Annoyed, I snapped: “They’re my family! Why won’t you let me stay?” Eventually, they provided two crates for the cat and Little Rascal, along with an additional cleaning fee.
Just as I finished checking in, someone called my name. I wondered who’d recognize me in a foreign land—did I have friends working in Thailand?
Turning around, I saw Wu Tieqing, whom I’d met once back in my hometown.
I thought, *Wu Tieqing does business in Jiangcheng—what’s he doing in Thailand?* His face was shadowed with gloom, his eyes sunken, and his voice weak: “Master, are you here for vacation too?”
Since we weren’t close, I kept it polite: “Yeah, just visiting. What about you? Business?” Wu Tieqing forced a smile: “Just some work matters. Master Xiao, if you’re free, let’s have dinner tonight.”
I replied vaguely: “We’ll see.”
After a brief exchange, we parted ways.
In the hotel room, the staff reminded me not to let the pets roam, especially the black mutt—not a purebred. Little Rascal barked at her in protest. Once settled, Xie Lingyu emerged from the jade ruler, stretching lazily: “Bai Jingren is near Chiang Mai. Earlier, I had He Qingling place a mother-child coin on him. That’s how we tracked him.”
The so-called mother-child coin, or Qingfu coin, was a legendary trick—using the bond between a mother and offspring to track someone. I realized Xie Lingyu wasn’t some all-knowing mystic; she’d just played a clever trick.
After showering and shaving, Xie Lingyu floated in unannounced. I quickly covered myself: “Hey, knock first!”
She scoffed: “Oh please, it’s not like you’re some bodybuilder. I just wanted to check my skin in the mirror.”
Embarrassed, I rushed out. She laughed behind me: “If you weren’t so cheap, you’d have booked another room.”
Turning on the TV for local news, I caught Little Rascal nodding along. I kicked him lightly: “Dumb mutt, you don’t understand a thing!”
At nightfall, Xie Lingyu and her cousin (the jade corpse) joined me for a walk, leaving the cat to watch Little Rascal.
In the lobby, Wu Tieqing was waiting: “Master, let’s eat! I know a great restaurant.”
I knew there was no such thing as a free meal.
At a Thai restaurant catering to Chinese tourists, I cut to the chase: “What’s wrong?”
Wu Tieqing, sweating nervously, finally confessed: “A Thai businessman cursed me after I scammed him. I came to find him… to save my life.” He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a row of black spots that seemed to be growing.
I recognized it as some form of curse or *jiangshi* (black magic). Coldly, I said: “You must’ve done something terrible for him to retaliate like this.”
Wu Tieqing paled, admitting: “I set him up in a business deal. Now, every night, I feel someone pressing down on me, whispering in my ear. I can’t sleep…”
I shook my head: “You brought this on yourself. I won’t risk my neck for your mistakes.”
Desperate, Wu Tieqing begged: “I’ll return the money! I’ll pay you! Please!”
But I held firm. Honestly, I wasn’t confident in breaking a *jiangshi* curse. My grandfather’s manuals had little on Southeast Asian black magic.
Wu Tieqing slumped, barely touching his food.
Feeling slightly guilty, I suggested he seek a local sorcerer. Maybe they could mediate.
Nearby, a young monk in yellow robes sat with a group of giggling girls. Something about his gaze felt… off.
Wu Tieqing kept rambling—regretful, angry, fearful. It was exhausting.
After dinner, he insisted on Thai massages and a “ladyboy” show. Xie Lingyu scolded him, and he quickly apologized.
Before parting, I gave Wu Tieqing some folk advice: “Place water and fruit by your bed tonight. Tie red strings around your wrists. It might help you sleep.”
Relieved, he hurried off to buy supplies.
Outside, the young monk was still chatting with his “girls.” Up close, I noticed their Adam’s apples.
*Ah… so he likes them extra seasoned.*
The “girls” waved at me: “Hello!”
I forced a smile, shuddering.
As Xie Lingyu and I wandered the night market, I spotted the monk again in the crowd—smiling, watching me.
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