When I woke up, I found myself back in the wooden cabin. Before I could even speak, Grandpa began slapping my face repeatedly. I cried out, “Stop hitting me, I’m still alive!” Grandpa clutched his chest and said, “Xiao Qi, you scared me to death! I thought you’d gone mad too.”
I hugged the quilt and retreated to the inner side of the bed, saying, “I have three questions to ask.” Grandpa smiled and said, “Go ahead.” I said, “First, are you really my grandpa? Second, why are we using an oil lamp instead of the electric light? Third, what do you mean by ‘I thought you’d gone mad too’—what does ‘too’ refer to?”
Grandpa replied, “Look at the shadow under the oil lamp, and you’ll know if I’m human or not.” I turned my head and saw a shadow under the lamp. It probably wasn’t a water monkey. Grandpa continued, “I don’t have much time left. Since you’re not mad, it’s time to formally become my disciple and join the Ghost Sect.”
I shook my head in dissatisfaction. “A water monkey made me want to become your disciple? No way.” Grandpa crossed his arms, indifferent. “Fine, don’t become my disciple. But first, take a look at your right foot.”
I rolled up my pant leg and saw a dark, ghostly handprint on my ankle, eerie and unsettling. I screamed, “Grandpa, won’t you even save your own grandson? Did you bring me here to die with you?”
Grandpa chuckled. “I never force anyone. If you don’t want to, so be it. I just don’t know if you’ll be able to walk for the rest of your life.”
At this point, it seemed I had no choice but to become his disciple.
The flickering flame of the oil lamp wavered unsteadily. As a child, I had read *Romance of the Three Kingdoms*, where Zhuge Liang lit an oil lamp just before his death at Wuzhang Plains. A dark thought crossed my mind—was I about to die? Was this lamp lit for me? I glanced at Grandpa again and noticed his sallow complexion, his breath faint and uneven… He had only answered one of my questions. The other two—about the lamp and the meaning of “too”—remained unanswered.
I softened. “Grandpa, why do you look so pale?” Grandpa gave a bitter smile. “Xiao Qi, you’ve noticed. I’m about to die. It’s not that I don’t want to save you—I just don’t have the strength anymore.”
I forced a laugh. “Grandpa, you’re so funny.” But when I realized he wasn’t joking, I panicked. “Are you sick? Let’s go see a doctor!” Grandpa straightened his expression. “The yin energy planted on you was done by a powerful enemy of mine. I fought him and was gravely injured. But I held on for seven days because I had no successor to pass on my legacy. Tonight is a once-in-a-century Black Dog Eclipse. The ghosts I’ve killed or wounded are all waiting for me to die. I won’t make it through the night.”
He continued, “The Ghost Sect, passed down from Patriarch Donglingzi, is on the verge of extinction. Finding a good disciple is hard—they must be righteous and brave. I had my eye on one, but he went mad.”
I asked, “Was it the long-haired man by the old jujube tree in Baishui Village?”
Grandpa nodded and sighed. “I, Long Youshui, had some reputation in this field, but now my legacy dies with me.” Tears streamed down his face. My heart softened. So tonight’s ghostly encounter was a test of my courage. “Grandpa, since you’ve chosen me, I’ll become your disciple. Stop pretending you’re about to die.”
At my words, Grandpa coughed up a mouthful of black blood…
“Xiao Qi, a man’s word is his bond. Kneel and become my disciple now.” Struggling, Grandpa sat in the armchair and instructed me to prepare an incense burner for the ceremony.
“Ghost Sect’s 14th-generation disciple, Long Youshui, hereby accepts Xiao Qi as the 15th-generation disciple.” With that, Grandpa began explaining our sect’s history. The founder, Donglingzi, lived during the late Tang Dynasty. I was stunned—over a thousand years, yet only fifteen generations? Grandpa explained that there had been a five-hundred-year gap before Donglingzi’s teachings were revived.
“Yang Junsong of the Tang Dynasty compiled the grand and sophisticated art of geomancy—divining fate, seeking dragon veins, and locating tombs. But Patriarch Donglingzi was considered unorthodox in the Lingtai Geographic Bureau. Instead, he gathered centuries of folk remedies for dealing with zombies, ghosts, and demons.”
I asked, “So our founder had such a colorful history?”
Grandpa sensed my sarcasm. “Yang Junsong was forced to death in Jiangxi by Lu Guangchou for seeking imperial tombs. Meanwhile, our founder lived freely and died happily in old age. Who was smarter?”
I reluctantly gave a thumbs-up, praising the founder’s bizarre techniques—animal excrement and curses. “Is that all he passed down?” Grandpa cleared his throat. “Those are just the basics. Evil spirits fear filth and those fiercer than them. I don’t have time to teach you the advanced methods. But I leave you three things: a book by the founder, a portable jade ruler, and a copper jar. Never open the jar unless absolutely necessary.”
I memorized his words.
Grandpa’s condition worsened. “You’re still too weak to hunt ghosts. But if you don’t remove that handprint within seven days, you’ll die. Remember, my enemy is too powerful. Don’t seek revenge…”
As if ox-headed and horse-faced underworld guards stood beside him, a breath extinguished the lamps on his shoulders. The oil lamp also went out. With that, Grandpa stopped breathing. Just like that, he had dragged me into the world of occultists—a bizarre new reality.
I quickly turned on the electric light.
Grandpa sat lifeless in the armchair, his eyes sunken but at peace, having found a reluctant successor. I called my mother immediately, and by dawn, she and my father arrived.
While preparing Grandpa’s body, we discovered a massive bloody handprint on his back. His warning about revenge must have been out of fear that I couldn’t handle his nemesis.
At the funeral, a fortune-teller named Ma Ruoxing stormed up to me, pointing and yelling, “You little rascal! You killed Long Youshui! You’re his destined doom!” I was about to snap back, “Who the hell are you? Get lost!” But Ma Ruoxing suddenly collapsed before the altar, wailing uncontrollably, leaving me baffled.
After his outburst, Ma Ruoxing laughed maniacally and vanished into the crowd.
After the funeral, I sorted through Grandpa’s belongings and found *The Complete Compendium of Ancient and Modern Ghost-Catching Methods*, a thirty-centimeter jade ruler, and a copper jar engraved with dragon and phoenix motifs. Shaking the jar, I heard a strange liquid inside. Alongside these was a Tsinghua Unisplendour USB drive and an Agricultural Bank of China savings card.
My mother was heartbroken. Grandpa had adopted her from a ruined temple when she was five, raised her, and married her off. To protect her, he rarely let her visit. After the funeral, I carried *The Compendium* with me everywhere, studying it daily.
Patriarch Donglingzi, once an official overseeing feng shui texts, had compiled countless arcane methods. *The Compendium* was his life’s work, filled with bizarre ghost-catching techniques. Reading it, I couldn’t help but mutter, “Damn, can this really catch ghosts?”
The first volume covered ghost-catching, followed by corpse-suppression. The last three volumes warned, “*Heavenly Extremes and Qimen Dunjia—studying these invites calamity*,” so I avoided them.
In short, the book was as eccentric as its author.
After the funeral, my parents returned home, but I stayed in Baishui Village for two more days. On the seventh day, as Grandpa had warned, I gathered strange ingredients—old men’s fingernails, children’s saliva, and more—enduring chases by vicious dogs in the process.
*The Compendium* stated that water monkeys were vicious creatures that drowned victims by sealing their orifices with mud. If not killed outright, they’d haunt you nightly, whispering ghost stories and pressing down until you suffocated.
That night, I locked Grandpa’s house and stepped outside—only to encounter the long-haired madman. He grinned sweetly and asked, “Your grandpa’s dead, right?”
Strange question. “He passed seven days ago.”
Suddenly, the madman pulled a firewood-splitting axe from behind his back and swung at me. I dodged and shouted, “What the hell are you doing?!”
Silent, he swung again.
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