Volume One: Eight Coffins of the Corpse Field Chapter Seven: The Yang Fire Has Been Extinguished

Only then did I realize just how much there was to all of this.

My third uncle continued, “Ordinary people can’t see the form of ghosts. If you could see them, you’d notice the difference. At first glance, both the Bloodied Ghost and the Postpartum Ghost are holding ghost infants in their arms. But those who know can easily tell them apart. The Bloodied Ghost never truly gave birth, so her belly remains as large as when she was pregnant, while the Postpartum Ghost has already delivered the ghost infant, making her stomach much smaller.”

I hesitated and said, “But I can see them. Didn’t I tell you I saw a shadow on the curtains? And after I ran out of the house, I looked back and saw a ghostly figure appear. Wasn’t that a ghost?”

Third Uncle shot me a sidelong glance, his face full of disbelief. “You really saw the ghostly figure?”

I replied irritably, “Of course I did! I told you, but you didn’t believe me.”

He pressed further, “Was the ghost’s belly large or not?”

I thought for a moment. “It didn’t seem big.”

“That makes sense. Still, you don’t have the Yin-Yang Eyes, so how could you see ghosts?” Third Uncle was puzzled, lost in thought for a moment, then suddenly pulled open my shirt to expose my shoulder.

The small handprint on my shoulder was nearly faded, but the skin was still a bit red. He pressed hard on my shoulder, sending a sharp pain through me. I couldn’t help but cry out, “Ow! Uncle, what are you doing?”

He nodded, then shook his head, pacing back and forth in the room.

“Uncle, could you stop pacing? You’re making me dizzy. What’s going on?” I asked.

He finally stopped, looked at me, and sighed. “You really are plagued by misfortune. No wonder that little ghost targeted you, and started with your shoulder…”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He questioned, “Have you ever felt anything unusual with this shoulder before?”

I thought carefully. My left shoulder had always felt a bit off, sometimes with a faint ache.

I told him about it. He nodded. “That’s it. I bet the pain comes around the first and fifteenth of every month.”

“I never paid close attention, but thinking about it, it does seem to ache about twice a month.”

“When did this pain start?” he continued.

I shook my head. “I can’t really remember, but it’s been a few years at least.”

He smiled. “Then there’s no mistake. I’ll tell you—the trouble with your shoulder began when your grandfather breathed that ill fortune into you.”

“What? How could this be related to that?”

He nodded. “It’s worse than I thought. That breath of misfortune didn’t just bring you bad luck—it extinguished one of your life-lamps.”

“What lamp?” I had no clue what he was talking about, but the idea of a lamp going out didn’t sound good.

“Everyone has three life-lamps, also called soul-lamps, representing the three souls of the body. The most important one is at the crown of your head. Buddhists call it the Brahma Aperture, we Taoists call it the Mud Pill Palace, and in medicine, it’s the Baihui point—all the same place, the softest part of a newborn’s skull. This lamp protects your life. If it goes out, you die. If someone dies and everywhere else is cold but that spot is still warm, it means their soul is still present. The other two life-lamps are on your shoulders. That’s why, if you hear someone call your name from behind in the wild, you must never look back. Turning your head blows out the lamps on your shoulders, and evil things can take advantage.”

Hearing this, I was stunned. “So you’re saying Grandpa blew out my shoulder lamp? Am I going to die?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. As long as the lamp on your head remains, you won’t die. Right now, the lamp on your shoulder has only gone out, so you feel pain on the first and fifteenth of the month. That ghost in the haunted house tried to take advantage and possess you through your shoulder. Luckily, only the yang fire is gone—the lamp itself still exists. If we can relight it, you’ll be fine.”

“Then hurry and relight it for me!”

He smiled wryly. “You think it’s as simple as lighting a candle? It’s not that easy—I need to think it over.”

This wasn’t a joke, and I grew anxious. “Li Dagang, can’t you do anything right? Always bragging about your Taoist skills, and now you can’t even handle something simple.”

He pulled a face. “It’s Li Dongbin, not Dagang.”

“What nonsense! Don’t drag Dongbin’s name into this. Do what you want; I’m going to the hospital.”

After what he’d said, maybe just from suggestion, my shoulder hurt even more, almost to the point I couldn’t lift my arm. I threw out a few words and turned to leave.

He grew agitated. “Go ahead! If the hospital can figure it out, I’ll call you grandpa.”

I hesitated. He had a point—what would I tell a doctor? That my life-lamp had gone out? They’d send me straight to psychiatry. And these supernatural things, sometimes science really can’t explain them.

Regret pricked at me. Maybe I’d been too harsh, so I turned back. “You have to come up with something.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “Nephew, you need to work on your temper. Don’t always threaten to walk away. We’ll have to restore your life-lamp, I promise. I just haven’t figured out how yet. For now, your arm isn’t as bad as you think. I can seal your shoulder, so it won’t hurt and no more little ghosts can get in.”

With that, he rummaged in his bag and pulled out a stack of medicated plasters, peeling one off to stick it on my shoulder.

I instinctively dodged. “What is that? Is it reliable?”

He glared. “Stop talking nonsense. This is my secret sealing plaster—promotes blood flow, disperses stasis, detoxifies, and restores yang energy. Your lamp went out because you lack yang energy. This is perfect for you. Hold still.”

He slapped the plaster on. Instantly, a warm current spread from it through my arm, and the pain eased considerably when I tried to move. It seemed my uncle did have some skills after all.

He handed me the stack. “From now on, stick one on every first and fifteenth of the month—each lasts half a month.”

I nodded and put the plasters away, sighing. “I never imagined Grandpa would leave me with something like this.”

Uncle asked, “What? Do you blame your grandfather?”

I shook my head. “Of course not. I just miss him…”

He nodded. “That’s right. Listen, nephew, I’ve always wondered. Your grandfather wouldn’t have given you that misfortune for no reason. There must be something behind it. But trust me—and trust your grandfather. He had his reasons.”

I was startled. “You mean he did it on purpose?”

He said, “That’s just my guess for now. Do you know why I, who was usually at my stall in town, happened to come home that day?”

I shook my head. He had come home at just the right moment that day—if he’d been any later, I might not have survived.

He continued, “The night before your grandfather passed, he appeared to me in a dream and told me to come home at that exact time the next day.”

My eyes widened. This was even more unexpected. It was clear: Grandpa had told him in advance, through a dream, to return home on that day, knowing I would also be back. Grandpa gave me the misfortune so that Uncle could save me. But what was the real purpose behind this arrangement?

Uncle saw my confusion and just shook his head. “Nephew, when I have time, I’ll get to the bottom of this and give you a proper answer.”

I nodded. Grandpa was gone, and after so many years, I didn’t care much for the answer. What mattered was that Grandpa loved me—he would never have harmed me on purpose.

I waved it off. “Let’s drop it. Tell me about that house. You said the ghost there was a Postpartum Ghost, but you thought it was a Bloodied Ghost?”

Uncle replied, “Exactly. So everything was set up to deal with a Bloodied Ghost, including the doll I gave you. Because the Bloodied Ghost’s child died in the womb, she’s especially attached to children. I used the Five Elements—gold, wood, water, fire, earth—collecting the fetal hair of five infants, each with a different fate, and sewed it into the doll. I had you spit on it to give it human energy. If it had been a Bloodied Ghost, throwing the doll would have lured her away and let you escape. But since it was a Postpartum Ghost, she wasn’t fooled.”

“I see,” I nodded. “Still, it wasn’t entirely useless. When I threw the doll, the pressure on my shoulder lessened a lot, and that gave me a chance to escape.”

He gave a wry smile. “That just means you were close to the door and got lucky. At that moment, you could have thrown anything and it would have distracted the Postpartum Ghost.”

Thinking about what happened in the deserted building sent a chill down my spine. I wiped sweat from my forehead and asked, “So what did you find on the second floor? I’ve always wondered about that.”

At the mention of the second floor, Uncle immediately sighed. “Damn, it was embarrassing—a total defeat, my own Waterloo. Even I, Li Dongbin, met my match…”

I waved my hand. “This isn’t the time for history lessons. Just tell me what happened.”