Night Parade of a Hundred Ghosts - Chapter 7

Oh no, I panicked! Who wouldn’t? Sure, it sounds simple in words, but just imagine—your body starts bouncing around out of control, and then someone else’s voice starts coming out of your mouth! I was seriously freaked out.

But that girl in front of me, she was totally calm. She was wearing this tight red leather outfit, and out of nowhere, she whipped out seven nails—not your ordinary nails either, but slender ones made of wood, about the thickness and length of a matchstick. She was about to stab me with those nails, and just the thought of it had me breaking out in a cold sweat. The idea of those wooden splinters sticking into me and leaving bits behind was enough to make my skin crawl.

At that moment, Brother Xiang shouted, “No, don’t! He’s a friend, don’t use the corpse-sealing nails on his seven acupoints!”

Hearing that, my heart warmed. I thought to myself, Brother Xiang, from now on, you’re not just my bro; you’re closer than blood. Love you, man.

“Use your silver needles instead, but did you clean off that corpse poison from last time?” Brother Xiang staggered up, looking at the girl as he asked.

“Li Xu Xiang, you motherfucker!” That was the only thought in my mind after hearing that. So, in the end, I was still getting poked! Seriously, that’s a death sentence!

“Xiao Hui! You’re possessed by a vicious ghost, and this girl has been chasing it all the way here. She’ll seal the ghost temporarily in your body by targeting the seven acupoints, then we’ll work on a way to send it off. Just hang in there,” Brother Xiang said.

Before he’d even finished talking, that girl kicked me over. I fell to the ground, and she aimed a shiny silver nail straight at my chest, driving it in with a slap of her palm. It didn’t really hurt at first, just a lot of blood. As she prepared to drive in another, suddenly a chill ran through me—it was like something inside me was pushing the ghost out. My whole body relaxed.

“The ghost ran off! That sneaky devil. Keep an eye on him; he should survive. I’m going after her!” With that, the girl disappeared from sight, and I regained control of my body.

“Ow! Damn, it hurts! So much pain!” Every inch of me hurt, especially my chest—that nail was matchstick-sized! I looked down, blood covering my chest, and started trembling as my head got woozy.

Brother Xiang quickly picked me up and said, “That girl’s been spoiled since she was little. You’re lucky she didn’t hold a grudge and castrate you on the spot. Hold on—I’m getting you to the hospital.”

“B-brother Xiang…” I managed to say through the pain, as he was carrying me at a run. Before I blacked out, I asked, “What exactly is it you do?”

“An exorcist. Yinyang Master!”

…

I blinked my eyes open, only to squint as a blinding light hit me. I looked around, realizing I was in a hospital room. It wasn’t too big, maybe ten square meters, and all dark, except for a bit of sunlight streaming in. Looking out the window, I could see the Changshou District, so I figured I was in the district hospital.

Moving even slightly sent a jolt of pain through my left chest, so I yelled for a doctor. A man in his thirties came in, telling me not to move as he lifted my eyelids, shining a small flashlight in my eyes. Nodding to himself, he replied, “You were out for just one night; the surgery went pretty well, and you’re recovering fast. That silver nail was just a centimeter from your heart. You kids these days, always getting into trouble…” He rambled on a bit more before leaving.

Not even three minutes later, Brother Xiang hobbled in, looking worse for wear himself. His head was wrapped like a mummy, and he wore a blue hospital gown with a plaid pattern. As he sat down by my bed, he asked, “You okay?”

I was about to say I was fine out of habit, but then my eyes widened. “What do you mean fine? Damn, you know that nail was only a centimeter away from my heart! I was almost done for, you hear me?”

“You’re not dead, right? After what you pulled with that girl, it’s a miracle you’re still alive. What more do you want?” Brother Xiang looked like he’d had his own fair share of trouble with that girl.

Then I remembered her skillful moves while hunting that ghost, and I asked, “Who are you two, exactly? And what was that thing that possessed me?”

“Nothing major. You’ve seen ghosts now. Li Shi Gao already told me about it. Or should I say, I’ve known about your family’s issues since I was little,” Brother Xiang said. “Old Man Li moved to Changshou from elsewhere. He had a companion at first, but you don’t know him. My master came later and took me in as a disciple. I would follow Old Man Li to learn some Daoist skills now and then. That’s all.”

“Your master? Isn’t he that old superstitious guy? And who’s the girl?”

Brother Xiang shook his head. “Not at all. I’ve only seen my master a few times. He just visited me a few days ago. As for that girl, she’s a distant relative of the Old fortune-teller. I met her because she visits him sometimes. Yesterday, I picked her up from the station. She suddenly sensed yin energy in that alley and rushed over, leading to all the stuff you ran into.”

I sighed, thinking of that girl’s angelic face and terrifying fighting skills. I shook my head—definitely someone to avoid. Then I remembered my mom and asked, “You didn’t tell my mom I got hurt, did you?”

“Nope, Auntie doesn’t know. I told her you met up with a couple of old classmates and crashed at their place after drinking too much.” Brother Xiang handed me a cigarette as he sat on the bed.

Just as we lit up, the door banged open, and that girl walked in, staring me down like we had some unspeakable connection. Sure, I’m handsome, but there’s no need to stare like that. Then I remembered how last night I almost peed on her, and knowing her temperament, she wasn’t likely to let it slide.

“Good luck, buddy,” Brother Xiang whispered before hobbling out, hand on his head, muttering, “Oh, my head. You two chat. I’m going back to lie down.”

Watching him limp away when he clearly had a head injury was a bit of an insult to my intelligence.

The girl had other plans and shoved him back in, pointing at both of us. “Thanks to you two, that ghost got away. What are you going to do about it?”

“Oh, my freaking Jesus! It’s just one runaway ghost! Tomorrow, I’ll have Old Man Li set up a ritual to find its hiding spot. Problem solved, right?” Brother Xiang said ingratiatingly, then pointed at me, “Besides, it wasn’t my fault. I got injured heroically yesterday. This guy was totally useless, so go ahead and deal with him.”

The girl suddenly got serious, looking us over as she said, “Quit joking. That wasn’t just any ghost; it was a Shuimang ghost, a killer spirit. You’re going to find out where it is, and we’re getting rid of it tonight.”

“Fine, we’ll do it your way.” Brother Xiang’s expression changed to match hers at the mention of a Shuimang ghost. Curiosity got the better of me, and I asked, “Brother Xiang, what’s a Shuimang ghost?”

“It’s a ghost first mentioned in Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio, caused by someone dying from eating toxic water hemlock plants. The ghost seeks a replacement to reincarnate, behaving like a water ghost, but with a key difference: Shuimang ghosts die from poison, while water ghosts drown. If we hadn’t come to help yesterday, you’d have died as its replacement.”

I scoffed, “It’s basically the same as a water ghost, right? Are they really that dangerous?” Honestly, even though I knew it was a ghost, the whole concept was still a bit fuzzy to me. We know ghosts are harmful, but so much about them remains unclear.

Brother Xiang sat down and explained, “You don’t understand. Most ghosts don’t randomly hurt people. They’re more likely to seek revenge against those who wronged them. Unless someone asks us for help, we usually don’t interfere, since they’ll pass on after getting their revenge. But the Shuimang ghost died without knowing who to blame, so it randomly picks replacements. That’s why it must be dealt with immediately.”

“Alright, time for introductions. My name is Li Xu Xiang, disciple of Wu Jiu, specializing in feng shui. I’m a feng shui master.”

“Feng shui master? Isn’t that just an exorcist?” I asked.

“Not at all!” the girl said, stepping forward. “I’m Han Si Fan, a ghost-hunter!”

“Xiao Hui, this stuff is probably hard for you to understand with your brain, but think of it like a game class. We just specialize in different things. Got it?”

With Brother Xiang’s analogy, things became clearer. Feng shui masters understand formations and ghosts, while ghost-hunters deal with restless spirits directly. Simple!

Someone might ask, is there anyone who can master both skills? Honestly, it’s rare to find someone who’s proficient in both. It’s like comparing one person who does the hitting with another who plans how to hit.

So, these two left the hospital right away to hunt down that Shuimang ghost, and since my injuries weren’t fully healed, I couldn’t go with them. Luckily, Han Si Fan didn’t give me any trouble about it—probably too eager to track down that ghost. Hopefully, she won’t come looking to settle scores later.

According to the doctor, I still need at least two days before I can be discharged. After Brother Xiang and Han Si Fan left to catch the ghost, I got bored and pulled out that little booklet that the Old fortune-teller gave me for a closer look.

During my hospital stay, I’ve been reading this palm-sized booklet of talismans. It’s packed with all sorts of spells, not just ones for ghost-hunting. There’s one, for example, called the Memory Talisman. You burn a book, mix its ashes into cinnabar, draw the talisman, and after eating it, you can memorize the book word-for-word for three days. I really wish I’d known about this before the college entrance exams—only learning about it now, who knows what kind of school I’d have gotten into!

Then there’s another one called the Sleepwalking Talisman. When drawing it, you need to plan the route you want to take. Before sleeping, stick it on your chest, and once you’re asleep, you’ll start walking toward the planned destination, though you’ll be in a trance-like state.

There are so many odd and fun talismans, like a Fart Talisman that makes the person wearing it fart all day—purely for pranks. There are loads of them, and they’re fascinating; I can’t wait to try drawing some for fun.

But drawing a talisman requires an additional step: a seal. The talisman in my pocket has one of these seals in the center. Later, I found out it’s the Old fortune-teller’s Daoist title, drawn so messily that I can’t even read it.

The book also says that for a talisman to work, you must have your own Daoist title. You write your birthdate and other details on a piece of paper, add your Daoist title, burn it, and then make a stamp with your title carved on it. After drawing a talisman, you stamp it with this seal to make it effective.

Two days later, I finally got discharged. By noon, I was back home at last.

T/L Notes:

1. Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio: Originally as 聊斋志异, is a collection of Classical Chinese stories by Qing dynasty writer Pu Songling, comprising close to 500 stories or “marvel tales” in the zhiguai and chuanqi styles, which according to some critics, served to implicitly criticise societal problems.