After unlocking the door, Wang Junhui murmured another incantation beside me before signaling me to push it open.
"What were you chanting just now?" I asked.
"A Soul-Calming Chant," he replied. "It prevents disturbing the spirit inside."
As the door creaked open, I reached for the light switch. Wang Junhui's hand shot out, stopping me. "No lights. This ghost is low-grade. Afraid of light. Turning them on would frighten it."
I frowned. "But how can I see its face clearly? How can I read its fate energy without light?"
Just then, the shop door squeaked shut behind us. I jumped, barely stifling a scream. Turning, I saw it was Wang Junhui who had closed it. I let out a shaky breath. "Master Wang, why shut it? It's pitch black in here now."
He explained, "There's one light spirits don't fear: candlelight." I heard him rummaging in his briefcase in the darkness. A moment later, a lighter clicked, its small flame illuminating his face in the gloom. If I hadn't known it was him, I might have punched him.
He lit a candle. Soft, flickering light filled the shop. Mine and Wang Junhui's shadows danced wildly on the walls with the candle's movement.
The writing desk stood directly before us. But the ghost was nowhere to be seen.
I held my breath, almost afraid to look. Wang Junhui held the candle in one hand, forming another finger gesture with the other. He pointed at the flame.
Instantly, the flame seemed to gain life, leaning distinctly towards our back. Did that mean... the ghost was behind us?
A cold dread washed down my spine. I began to turn my head slowly.
Wang Junhui grabbed my arm firmly. "Easy. Turn slowly. It is behind us. Don't startle it."
Don't startle it? It was already terrifying me! If Wang Junhui hadn't been there, I'd have screamed and bolted long ago.
"Follow me. Turn slowly. Whatever you see, don't shout!" He released my arm and began a painstakingly slow turn. I matched his pace.
As we fully turned, a semi-transparent black shadow hovered less than a meter away, closer to me.
Thump-thump! Thump-thump!
My heart hammered against my ribs. Wang Junhui pressed a finger gesture lightly onto the center of my upper back. "Don't fear. I'm here. It cannot harm you. You can communicate now. Remember, slow and steady. Don't alarm it."
I forced myself to calm down, taking deep, steadying breaths, my hand pressed against my racing heart. After a moment, I spoke softly, my voice trembling slightly. "Old sir... could you turn around? I need to read your face. I must find your family through your fate energy."
Talking to a ghost. A first in my life. My heart pounded harder with each word. I braced myself for a horrifying face or a sudden lunge.
The ghost shuddered slightly at my words. Then, slowly, it began to turn. Its movement was unnerving. Something felt wrong. I realized – only its upper body rotated. Its lower half remained facing away.
My blood ran cold. Was it deliberately trying to scare me?
Finally, I could see its face clearly. Less frightening than I'd imagined. Transparent, yes, but the features were intact, not distorted or missing like in my nightmares.
I focused on its face. The Yin energy was strongest at the "Chou" gate on the right cheek – the sign of death. Calculating the flow of fortune, the "Chou" gate corresponded to ages 78 or 79. He had likely died at one of those ages.
A swirl of Yin energy lingered persistently in the Palace of Sickness and Calamity between the eyes. Cause of death: severe illness.
The Yin energy was faintest at the Palace of Descendants above the bridge of the nose. This indicated excellent "descendant fortune." His children and grandchildren must have been very filial while he lived. So... what unresolved wish could he possibly have?
My eyes locked onto the weak Yin energy swirling within the Palace of Descendants. I began mentally arranging numbers, forming a hexagram. Over and over, I traced its movement until the pattern solidified, revealing the primary hexagram I sought.
The "Benefit" hexagram. Calculating the changing line was harder. Yin interpreting Yang. Establishing the primary hexagram was difficult enough; discerning the changing line required even sharper perception to capture the subtle shifts in the gate's fate energy.
Unconsciously, sweat soaked my shirt.
The Yin energy cycled, flowing with fate and principle. A Yang line. The changing line number emerged from the fate energy: Nine... Three... Five...
Five. The fifth line of the ninth position.
Interpreting the hexagram: this family resided in a "benevolent person's home." Meaning they were staying with relatives or close friends, definitely not a hotel.
Furthermore, the changing line suggested someone in the family was unwell. They were staying elsewhere for recuperation.
Combining the fate energy with the hexagram and changing line, I deduced their location: somewhere in the southern part of the city, likely a residential compound.
But the range was still too broad. If I gave Ning Haoyu only this, he'd curse me out.
With my current level of divination skill, this was the best I could do.
Disappointed, I withdrew from the divinatory state. "Well?" Wang Junhui prompted. I recounted my findings.
Before Wang Junhui could respond, the ghost stirred. This time, its entire body turned to face us properly. The unnerving disjointedness was gone.
Its sudden movement startled me. Wang Junhui steadied me. "Don't fear. It has something to say."
I forced myself to remain calm. "What do you wish to say?"
Wang Junhui murmured another incantation and tapped a point on my forehead. "I've stabilized your spirit. Prevents ghost-talk from overwhelming your mind."
Grandpa had warned: hearing ghosts speak could make you believe, even become obsessed, leading to possession. With Wang Junhui's Taoist protection, I could listen safely... for now.
"Speak," I told the ghost.
"Ooo ooo..."
Indecipherable sounds came from it, but they transformed into clear words in my mind.
The ghost asked, "Is my son sick? How is he?"
Ah. My earlier divination had prompted this. "Don't worry," I reassured. "He hasn't gone to a hospital. Staying with family for quiet recuperation suggests it's not serious. Likely... mental distress. Perhaps he's still struggling with grief over your passing?"
Hearing this, the ghost moaned again. "My poor youngest son... After I grew old, I lived with him... The eldest and my daughter were good to me too, but they worked far away, rarely visited..."
Seeing it launch into a monologue, I cut in. "Please, first tell me: do you have relatives in the south? Where your youngest son's family might be staying? We'll find them, then you can talk in detail."
The ghost paused, then gave me an address. His sister's home. His youngest son's aunt. They were close. Her family was well-off, with a large house. If his son was in the south, the ghost insisted, that's definitely where they'd be.
Address secured. No more ghost-chat. "I'm done," I told Wang Junhui. He murmured his incantations again, then addressed the ghost sternly. "Remain here. Cause no disturbance. Or face my displeasure."
The ghost bowed respectfully.
We backed out of the shop. Wang Junhui extinguished the candle.
Closing the shop door, I took a long, deep breath of the cool night air.
"Text your friend the address," Wang Junhui said. "Best resolved tonight. Daylight complicates things."
I nodded, quickly sending the address to Ning Haoyu via text, then called to confirm. Hearing the specific address, Ning Haoyu gasped. "Damn, kid! How'd you do that?"
I gave a weary laugh. "Not me. The ghost told me. Scared the hell out of me. Enough talk. Go find them. We'll talk details when you get back."
After hanging up, I invited Wang Junhui inside the house. He hesitated, then agreed. Night had fallen, and the mosquitoes were relentless.
We circled to the main courtyard entrance. As we approached my grandfather's room, Wang Junhui froze. "What is it?" I asked. He stared intently at the door, a look of profound surprise on his face. "It's nothing," he finally murmured, though his expression belied it. Had he sensed something in there?
Before I could press him, he added, softly, almost reverently, "Your grandfather... he was a man of great power."
Inside my room, I brewed tea – a habit picked up from Grandpa. My means only stretched to basic Tieguanyin. Wang Junhui sipped it thoughtfully.
After a few moments, he set his cup down. His gaze was sharp, probing. "That skill... reading a ghost's fate. Did your grandfather teach you that too?" He paused. "Your name is Li Chu Yi... So your grandfather... was he Li Nanshan? The legendary 'Divine Physiognomist' they called 'Shen Xiang'?"