Liu Dashao instructed the Luo family to bring an iron basin and place it beneath the opening on the bottom of the coffin. He then stacked the twelve pieces of Chinese fir wood he held into the basin. At this moment, everyone seemed to realize what the Taoist priest was about to do—he intended to burn the corpse using just those twelve pieces of wood. No one believed that such small pieces could possibly incinerate a human body. Their eyes widened in anticipation; the long-awaited spectacle was finally about to begin!
As Liu Dashao arranged the wood, he muttered incantations under his breath, words no one could understand. Luo Siyu tried hard to catch what he was saying, but it was as if Liu Dashao wasn’t speaking for anyone to hear. In fact, that was exactly the case. The spell Liu Dashao was chanting was meant to force Old Master Xiang’s Tianhun (Celestial Soul) to separate from the body. However, the Tianhun exists solely to protect the physical body; it will not leave unless the body is destroyed. Normally, forty-nine days after death, the Dihun (Earthly Soul) emerges from the Peach Garden to escort the Tianhun there, where it waits for the Minghun (Fated Soul) to summon it. At present, although Old Master Xiang’s Tianhun had already been tainted by evil energy, the physical body remained intact, so the Tianhun refused to leave—it was its duty to stay, a final act of guardianship in the cycle of rebirth.
Once the wood was arranged, Liu Dashao placed two talismans on top of the stack. Then he affixed a talisman to each of the four sides of the coffin, as well as the front and back. When the talismans were in place, he gestured behind him, and Luo Ping’an handed him a knife and a freshly crowing rooster. Liu Dashao swiftly slashed the rooster’s neck, and a jet of hot blood sprayed from the wound, splattering from the fir wood all the way to the ancestral shrine in the Luo family hall. He then lit three sticks of incense at the shrine and another three in the basin with the wood. The incense burned slowly as Liu Dashao continued chanting spells. He lit paper money in the basin, one stack after another, but the fir wood never caught fire. Normally, fir wood is highly flammable, but in the basin, only the paper money burned. Not even the talismans stuck to the wood ignited. Murmurs spread among the crowd: surely it was the talismans preventing the wood from catching fire, they reasoned.
Indeed, as soon as Liu Dashao finished his incantation, he turned his gaze toward the shrine. The incense there burned faster than usual, quickly reducing to half its length. Everyone followed Liu Dashao’s gaze and witnessed something they could hardly believe—the incense was burning far too quickly! But after two-thirds had burned, the pace slowed back to normal. At that moment, Liu Dashao spoke aloud: “Take him now. This money should be enough to bribe the guards. Heaven and Earth unite—I hope you both receive the Minghun’s call soon.”
The atmosphere grew tense. Everyone saw Liu Dashao speaking to thin air. Deep down, they all suspected he was addressing Old Master Xiang’s soul, but disbelief and skepticism mingled with the impossible situation, leaving everyone on edge.
Liu Dashao’s gaze shifted again. He saw the Dihun approach the fire basin. He called out to it, though no one else could see or hear any of this. He watched as an identical soul drifted out of the coffin—this was Old Master Xiang’s Tianhun. The three sticks of incense in the basin burned rapidly, finishing in an instant. The two souls merged, gazing at the coffin with reluctance.
Liu Dashao said, “Go now. You died at an inauspicious hour, leaving a trace of yang energy in your heart. That has now turned into evil qi. You know what will happen if we hadn’t done this. There’s nothing left for you to cling to in this world. Head to the Peach Garden sooner rather than later, and you’ll receive the Minghun’s call all the sooner. This is all I can do for you.”
Old Master Xiang understood perfectly well what would happen if his Tianhun, already tainted by evil qi, turned into a vengeful spirit. Gratefully, he turned to Liu Dashao and said, “Thank you, young sir. It’s my good fortune that you came to perform this ritual for me. Without you, I shudder to think what might have happened. I’ve always loved wine. Do you mind if I have one last drink with you before I go?”
Liu Dashao was momentarily speechless. Of course, once he reached the Peach Garden, he wouldn’t be able to drink the wine offered at his grave. Still, he replied, “Alright, I’ll join you.” He turned to Luo Ping’an and said, “Uncle Luo, could you pour us two bowls of wine? Make them big ones!” Luo Ping’an hurried to the kitchen without hesitation. Though he didn’t know who Liu Dashao was speaking to or what was being said, he dared not delay.
Soon, two large bowls of wine were brought out. Liu Dashao took them, offering one with his left hand while drinking from the one in his right. Old Master Xiang laughed and said, “Great! You’re a real friend, young sir!” Liu Dashao laughed too. “Cheers!” He tilted the left bowl slightly, and the wine slowly poured out, as if someone were drinking it. Liu Dashao downed his own bowl in one go, cheerful and carefree despite this being his first time sharing a drink with a ghost.
After the wine was finished, Old Master Xiang turned to his descendants, gazing at each of them before saying to Liu Dashao, “Young sir, I’m off now!”
Liu Dashao clasped his hands in farewell. “May you travel safely, Master!”
As his words ended, the incense at the shrine burned out completely—Old Master Xiang had departed.
Liu Dashao handed the bowls to Luo Siyu and said, “Your grandfather has gone.” Luo Siyu took the bowls without a word. He naturally understood that Liu Dashao had just been speaking to his grandfather.
Liu Dashao’s expression grew serious again. He chanted another spell, and this time the talismans on the fir wood ignited. Flames leapt up from the wood, growing ever larger. Yet neither the wood nor the talismans burned away. All the flames were drawn upward through the opening beneath the coffin, yet no odor emerged.
Time passed. Everyone stared at the burning wood in the basin. It clearly burned fiercely, yet showed no sign of being consumed. Inside the coffin, cotton quilts had been placed, yet no fire or smell emerged. Liu Dashao calmly lit a cigarette. After all, today’s main task had been to summon Old Master Xiang’s Tianhun. The rest was easy. Just to ensure the Tianhun’s safe passage, he had burned large amounts of spirit money to bribe the guards of the Peach Garden to release Old Master Xiang’s Dihun. Though those paper banknotes and gold ingots had cost only a few cents in the human world, in the underworld, they represented a fortune.
As he slowly smoked his cigarette, the talismans on the wood began to burn. Within seconds, they were completely consumed. Then, after the talismans vanished, the fir wood itself turned to ash in the basin. Everything happened like magic. The spectators could only express amazement, rubbing their eyes in disbelief, unable to accept what they had seen, yet unable to deny it.
Once the flames died, Luo Ping’an asked in astonishment, “Master, is it done?”
Liu Dashao nodded. “Yes. You can go find a wooden board to cover that opening again, though it’s not necessary. If you don’t believe me, feel free to open the coffin and take a look. Hehe.”
Luo Siyu, still unconvinced, turned to Luo Ping’an. “Dad, open it and let me see!” Others chimed in, urging, “Old Luo, go ahead and open it!” Even those who remained silent wore expressions of eager anticipation.
Luo Ping’an himself wanted to check. He turned to Liu Dashao and asked, “Master, may I open it?”
Liu Dashao replied, “Of course. Just close it again afterward. And tear off the talismans too. I’m a bit tired now. I’ll go rest. The Taoist ritual will begin at three this afternoon.” With that, he walked toward his room.
Eagerly, Luo Ping’an called for help to lift the coffin lid. Several people responded immediately, including the horn player Wang and the gong drummer Chen, both quick to assist.
The coffin lid hadn’t been nailed shut, so it opened easily. As it lifted, a puff of white smoke emerged, carrying only the scent of burned fir wood—no stench of decay. After the smoke cleared, what lay before everyone’s eyes was a skeleton. At least in the visible parts—head and hands—it had completely transformed into bones. One astonished exclamation followed another. It was an undeniable truth, hard to accept yet undeniably real.
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