Chapter 119: Past Events

These words were not spoken by Xu Xiaokang, but by the possessing ghost using his mouth.

“I, Mo Bai, will never be like those wandering spirits, willingly hanging on the wall. Never.” Such words came from Xu Xiaokang’s childish voice.

Hearing an old ghost’s words from a child’s mouth wasn’t funny at all. Judging by the tone, Mo Bai was anything but simple.

In truth, when a child suffers, the parents suffer the most—this is an undeniable truth. Few can bear to abandon their children. If you go to a hospital, you’ll see many parents wishing their child’s illness could transfer to them, just so their children can be healthy.

Xu Xiaokang, possessed by the ghost, spoke strange words again.

Xu Jun and Liu Yunxin completely broke down. They didn’t know what to do and knelt on the ground. “Master, save our son. He can’t die. If he dies… we won’t be able to live either.”

“Possessing ghost, don’t harm the child. I won’t take you inside,” Deji said firmly.

“Hehe. Send me out,” Xu Xiaokang replied. Seeing Deji hesitate, unsure how to proceed, Xu Xiaokang’s face grew paler.

“Wait, you said your name is Mo Bai. What’s the name of the one-legged zombie?” I was utterly confused. If this ghost kept possessing people, it might drive itself insane.

“I don’t remember either. Who knows what his name is? But I’ve traveled far and wide with him, never mistreating him. If anyone asks, just call him the One-Legged Zombie.” Xu Xiaokang’s voice was actually Mo Bai speaking.

“Alright, tough guy. Why don’t you try possessing me instead of tormenting a child? That’s just cruel,” I probed.

“You’re an idiot. Kids are much better. Old monk, have you made up your mind?”

Deji shouted, “Fine, I’ll send you out!” The Jade Corpse handed the one-legged zombie to Tsering, and two monks stepped forward, shackling his hands with special chains.

The name “One-Legged Zombie” still carried an intimidating aura.

Mo Bai demanded that Deji personally escort everyone out. On full moon nights, there was a path leading out—on other days, no one could enter or leave.

Today happened to be the Ghost Festival, and the moon was full, its light exceptionally bright. When we stepped outside, everything was blanketed in white snow.

The pristine snow crunched underfoot as we walked.

Xu Jun and Liu Yunxin held their son’s hands, unbothered by the ghost’s possession. They walked ahead. The ghost seemed uncomfortable being led by the hand, but we trekked westward through the valley for nearly an hour.

Along the way, Deji secretly handed me a string of prayer beads—tiny, densely threaded, with over a hundred beads. He told me to put it around the child’s neck as soon as we left the Blue Moon, as it could temporarily suppress the possessing ghost.

When we reached a dead end, the moonlight suddenly shifted, illuminating a large boulder.

“This is where we leave,” Deji announced.

“You better not follow.”

“This humble monk won’t…” Deji promised.

“I remember the Buddha cut his own flesh to feed an eagle,” Mo Bai said, his voice still sharp. Xu Xiaokang’s face grew weaker.

“You seek revenge. You want me to repay you with a leg, but that leg was never yours,” Deji replied, puzzled.

“Ten years ago, in Fenghuang, Western Hunan. I possessed a zombie, and you crippled one of its legs. My resentment dissipated bit by bit, forced to cultivate by preying on disgusting old women—utterly revolting. Taking one of your legs isn’t excessive—it’s compensation for my suffering. I’ve run out of patience… And that old woman, I won’t let her go either…” Mo Bai’s voice was icy.

Deji and Xu Xiaokang were strangers with no connection. There was no reason for Deji to sacrifice his own leg for the child…

“Give me the knife,” Deji called out. In his eyes, I saw compassion. Just then, a cold mountain wind blew, and snowflakes settled on Deji’s brows.

“No! I won’t let you!” Tsering cried. Deji smiled, took the wood-chopping knife from Tsering’s hands, and with a swift motion, crimson stained the snow around him.

My eyes welled up. “I remember a Buddhist story: The Second Patriarch of Zen, Huike, once sought enlightenment under Bodhidharma. To test his resolve, Bodhidharma said he would accept him as a disciple only if red snow fell from the sky. After days of contemplation, Huike understood. On a snowy night, he took a blade, severed his own arm, and let his blood dye the snow red. This act, known as ‘Severing the Arm to Reflect the Snow,’ moved Bodhidharma, who passed the dharma to him. Master, what you’ve done today is just as heroic.”

Tsering rushed forward, tearing off part of his robe to bind the wound.

The Wrinkled Old Woman pressed her hand against the boulder, and a tunnel appeared.

“Save the child…” Deji said.

I chased after them, Little Scoundrel following close behind, a few letters clenched in his teeth. I took them and saw they were love poems—written in Tibetan, with Chinese translations neatly penned beside them, filled with deep emotion.

*”The Buddha says: A moment is eternity.*

*Why, in that moment,*

*Do I not see my lover’s joy,*

*But only eternal pain?”*

*”I hide beneath the moonlight, watching you,*

*Without a sound.*

*The Buddha asks: Why don’t you love this world?*

*I say: The world makes me too lonely.*

*All I love are the hands that touch my face.”*

I smiled knowingly—these must have been Tsering’s love poems for the Jade Corpse, a heart restrained by patience.

The tunnel wasn’t long. Emerging from it, we found ourselves in another world entirely.

“Brother Mo, now that you’ve taken over this child’s body, what’s your plan?” the Wrinkled Old Woman asked.

“Easy. Easy,” Mo Bai replied. “I’ll switch to another body in a few days…”

“Possess me instead,” Xu Jun pleaded.

“Mr. Mo, I have something to tell you. The monk just reminded me—ten years ago in Fenghuang, there was an old woman who harmed you…” I whispered. Mo Bai had mentioned earlier that besides Deji, there was an old woman from Fenghuang. Seizing the chance, I moved closer and slipped the prayer beads around Xu Xiaokang’s neck.

“Keep the jade ruler safe. Let me hear what you have to say.”

I tossed the jade ruler to Xie Lingyu.

Mo Bai, controlling Xu Xiaokang, stepped forward but stopped two meters away.

“Be careful—he might hurt you,” the Wrinkled Old Woman warned.

“Don’t hurt my son… He’s just a child…” Liu Yunxin was on the verge of breaking down.

“There was a woman whose husband despised her and had a child with another woman. She resented handsome men and attacked you when she saw you in Fenghuang,” I shouted, pointing at the Wrinkled Old Woman.

“Is that true?” Mo Bai turned to scrutinize her expression.

“That’s nonsense! I’ve been scheming to find beautiful women for you! You always took the lion’s share of the profits! That was the old woman from Western Hunan—I’m the Wrinkled Old Woman, not the same person!” She was clearly terrified of Mo Bai, even while he possessed a child.

“You just wanted my ‘saliva pills’—ugh, the one-legged zombie’s saliva pills. Zombie drool mixed with dried cow dung, bee excrement, and fox urine can make a beauty product… Look at yourself—you’d be better off getting plastic surgery. If I were your dead husband, I’d have left you long ago…” Mo Bai sneered.

He seemed to have forgotten he was possessing a child.

I took two small steps forward, now just a meter away.

“You really think you’re so tough? Look at your hideous body. My grandson could snap your neck with one slap…” The Wrinkled Old Woman’s scars had been laid bare.

Back when she raised snakes, her body was covered in bite marks—even her chest bore the marks of two snakes. Ruan Jinluan had been furious. “Get the hell away from me! I never want to see you again!” he’d yelled before running off with a smooth-skinned Miao beauty.

He’d abandoned her.

This memory was etched deep in the Wrinkled Old Woman’s heart. Back then, cosmetic surgery wasn’t common, and by the time she learned of it, she was already too old to undo the damage.

She hurled all the venomous snakes from her black bag.

Mo Bai instinctively stepped back—right into me. Without hesitation, I swung the prayer beads around Xu Xiaokang’s neck.

A quick twist of my body sent the snakes scattering.

They fell to the ground and slithered away in haste.

“That bastard Ruan Jinluan died long ago. Why should I avenge him? I’ve been such a fool. It’s that bitch I should’ve killed… that bitch…” The Wrinkled Old Woman seemed to have snapped out of it, muttering to herself.

She gathered her black snakes and dragged the Fool into the darkness. “Let’s go find that bitch. Come on, grandson. We’ll kill her.”

“Wife… my wife… I want my wife to come with me…” The Fool’s cries faded into the distance, leaving only the sight of his red leather shoes.

“Don’t go! I have plenty of saliva pills—made from zombie drool! Guaranteed to restore your youth to eighteen!” Mo Bai’s voice grew weaker. “Damn it, you tricked me. I actually believed you were the old woman from Fenghuang. What an idiot I am.”

The prayer beads worked wonders, suppressing the possessing ghost Mo Bai. Even the starving ghost inside Xu Xiaokang quieted down.

The ghost stayed docile, and Xu Xiaokang regained consciousness, bursting into tears, snot and all.

“Mom, Dad, I’m hungry,” he sobbed. Hearing his voice, Xu Jun and Liu Yunxin laughed—this was truly their son’s cry.

Liu Yunxin quickly brought out homemade rice crackers and fed them to Xu Xiaokang.

“Why do all these ghosts possess your son? What day was he born?” I asked curiously.

“Today is his birthday. The fifteenth day of the seventh lunar month…” Xu Jun replied, his eyes fixed lovingly on his son.

Seeing the family wasn’t fit for night travel, I found a large rock for everyone to rest on. This forest was much better than the jungles of Northern Thailand—fewer leeches and, with the cooler weather, fewer mosquitoes.

We’d wait for dawn before continuing.

Looking back toward the Blue Moon, there was no trace of light. Inside, it was snowing, but outside, everything was normal—utterly bizarre.

In the quiet, I wondered what had led us into the Blue Moon in the first place.

When I asked Xie Lingyu, she avoided the question. Some places were better left unknown.

I handed the Jade Corpse the two love poems Tsering had written. Reflecting on it, this journey had been a romantic odyssey for her—first the Fool, then the lovesick monk in the Blue Moon. She glanced at the papers and tossed them aside without reading.

“Where to next? Fenglingdu?” Xie Lingyu asked, as if probing. “We still need to find the bronze jar.”

“Did Pig-Ear Ghost tell you where the white spider lilies are?” I asked gloomily.

“The moon is so bright tonight. The stars are dazzling,” Xie Lingyu mused, looking up at the starless sky.

“It’s been over two months. Let’s go back to Jiangcheng.”