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墨書 Inktalez
Let me tell you about a recent job I received. It all started when a construction worker from Hunan called me in a panic, saying, "There's a ghost!" This man, who I knew from my village and was a few years older than me, was a small contractor. I asked him what was going on, and he explained that every night at three o'clock, they would hear the sound of metal clanging in their work shed—not just one sound, but a whole series of them. This had been happening for a week. At first, they didn't pay much attention to it. However, tonight, one of the worker's children suddenly screamed before dinner and kept shaking his head. No matter how they called to him, he wouldn’t respond, just continued to scream and shake his head. I told him not to worry; I would drive over right away and asked him to send me a picture of the child. Then I instructed him to soak some rice in water and feed it to the child, forcing it into his mouth if necessary.
When I arrived, the child had stopped resisting violently. He sat silently on a small stool, staring blankly at a corner with hollow eyes. I asked his grandfather if he had eaten, and he replied that after eating the soaked rice, the child had stopped shaking his head. Now what should they do?
I walked around the child and took out my compass to check for spiritual energy but found no response at all. This indicated that whatever had been troubling him had already left; the child’s spirit simply needed to be called back. This was quite simple—much like waking someone who is sleepwalking; their body is unconscious and cannot be awakened by sounds around them. The only way to bring them back is by calling their name or giving them a gentle nudge. However, with a child who has just been possessed, you cannot nudge them. I asked his grandfather what the child's name was, and he said it was Li. Taking a deep breath, I gently tapped my index finger on the child's fontanel and shouted "Li!" The child shuddered slightly but did not burst into tears as I had imagined. Instead, he looked at me and smiled innocently, saying, "Uncle, why don’t you shave your beard?" Staring at his pure smile left me momentarily speechless as I silently resented the situation.
The child lived at the end of the central corridor facing it directly; this location is known in feng shui as a "gun sha," which easily attracts spirits. I called Brother Li to a quieter spot and asked him if he was sure that the sounds were coming from this residence or if any workers were still on site at night. He assured me that they weren’t working at night; even if they were, it wouldn’t produce such rhythmic clanging sounds. When I pressed him about the rhythm, he said it resembled the sounds made during funerals back in our hometown.
My heart tightened at once; funeral rhythms are part of traditional Taoist rituals performed by specific teams. Such rhythms are not something ordinary people would learn—could it be that the souls of Taoist practitioners were involved? After death, their souls are not bound by earthly concerns and can remain aware. This was becoming serious business; based on my calculations, there were at least four spirits involved since our hometown's ritual teams typically consist of four members.
I asked Brother Li if he heard four distinct sounds; he replied that he hadn’t listened closely enough to tell. I instructed him to pay attention tonight and promised to return by noon tomorrow.
As I left, I hugged the child and discreetly drew a protective talisman on his back before patting him gently and saying I'd come back to play with him tomorrow.
The next morning around 7:30 AM after finishing my practice, knowing it was time for my master’s breakfast after his morning rituals, I eagerly dialed his number.
"Hello? Master, I need some help."
"Little brat! You remember to call your master just to ask for help? What’s going on?" His voice remained warm yet firm.
"What did Old Ghost say? Didn’t we just talk last week?" I chuckled nervously.
The master told me to get to the point as he had other matters to attend to. So I briefly explained the situation. After a moment of silence, he said thoughtfully, "You can’t handle this matter alone." Panicking slightly, I replied that they had already targeted the child.
He suggested that I find out where the child's family lived because those spirits likely followed something back with them. To treat an illness properly, you must address its root cause. If these spirits were indeed from my hometown following them here, I could perform a soul-calling ritual from this side to help resolve it—but first, I needed to ensure their safety so they wouldn’t be startled during the process.
I understood what my master meant and asked when we would perform the ritual. He replied with slight annoyance that surely it would start at midnight—around eleven o'clock.
Feeling embarrassed for not knowing better, I quickly ended the call but faintly heard him mutter about how all I did was bring trouble.
Conversations with my master often took this playful tone; however, deep down, I knew he cared for me greatly and that I respected him immensely. Later on, I'll explain how our bond formed.
Back to business—having my master’s support gave me confidence. In high spirits after running a few laps post-breakfast, I began preparing what I'd need for the task ahead. Here’s where I'll mention what materials are required: My mission was simply to contain them; capturing them wasn’t necessary since doing so might lead to injuries among my helpers—and then I'd face punishment myself if anything went wrong.
This was my first encounter with such fierce Dao spirits; as my master said, handling them was beyond my capabilities. However, containing them was still within reach.
The folk Taoist ritual implements included several items: water bowls, ink brushes, ox horns, divination sticks, talismans, red threads, incense ash, grave soil, copper coins—all essential tools for spirit binding. For binding spirits specifically, all I'd need were an ink brush line or red thread along with talismans and copper coins placed in water bowls. The power of talismans relies not only on their inscriptions but also requires enhancement through yang energy—which necessitates using cock's comb blood since roosters are pure yang creatures.
At a nearby market stall run by Sister Sun—who regularly supplied me with cock's comb blood—I easily acquired what I needed without any hassle. Back home preparing talismans and crafting ink brush lines (which I'll explain later), everything was ready by noon. Feeling reassured put me at ease; after lunch though—I surprisingly felt sleepy.
I slept until one o'clock, took a shower, and then headed out. By the time I arrived at the construction site, it was nearly two-thirty. Most of the workers inside had already started their shifts, so I called Brother Li to let him know I had arrived.
He rushed over, and before I could say anything, he told me that after carefully listening to the sounds last night, there should be three distinct voices. I replied that was better than I had imagined. "So, keep this quiet. Act like nothing happened. Tell the workers to stay in their rooms tonight and not come out."
He asked if I needed any help, but I declined, saying I was worried about scaring them off. He agreed and asked when we should start. I told him it was still early, and he could continue with his work while I took a look around.
I took out my compass and spun it for a long time outside, but found no response. The compass has a limited range, so I estimated that they were likely attached to some object inside a room. It was normal for them not to be active during the day. All I needed to do was wait until ten minutes before midnight, use the Water Bowl to reveal their exact location, and then trap them with the Ink Fight Line and some copper coins; my task would be complete.
After organizing my thoughts, I checked my watch and saw it was nearly six o'clock. My stomach began to growl. Just then, Brother Li called to invite me for dinner. I mentioned that I wasn't familiar with the area and asked if there was a good Hunan restaurant nearby. He said there was a place called Drunken Love Hunan Cuisine and would come pick me up.
They arrived about ten minutes later, bringing along a young man who looked about my age—Brother Li's nephew. We nodded at each other as I got into the car and we drove a few kilometers to the restaurant. The Secret Steamed Fish and Fried Egg there were delicious.
Brother Li pulled out two bottles of liquor from his bag and said, "We haven't seen each other in a long time; we can't leave without getting drunk." I replied that I still had work to do later and needed to drive home. "You guys drink; I'll drive back after eating," I insisted. He said fine, since he had brought it along, we might as well drink together; he had been stressed lately.
Sure enough, after a few drinks, he began asking me about the reward for my services. Not giving him a chance to haggle, I directly stated that after years in construction, he must have encountered similar situations before—the industry rates were generally similar. "Just give what you think is fair," I said. He understood. Of course, I didn't mention that this time was particularly dangerous or that my master was helping me. To them, it probably all seemed the same, and I didn't want to explain too much; more importantly, I didn't want him to know that I was struggling.
I had to admit that they were quite chatty when it came to work; our meal lasted nearly three hours. When I finally staggered out of the restaurant, it was almost ten o'clock. I needed to hurry back to prepare. Rushing back to the construction site, I told Brother Li to gather the workers in their rooms and not let them wander outside anymore—though it wasn't strictly necessary, it was better safe than sorry since I didn't know what level of power Dao Spirits possessed. If things got out of control and innocent people were harmed, it would be a grave sin.
Brother Li called over the team leaders from each group to relay my message clearly; he spoke articulately despite having consumed a bottle of liquor—impressive indeed.
While thinking this over, I pulled out my phone and dialed my master's number. After one ring, he picked up; he must have been waiting for my call. He simply said, "It's fine now; I'm waiting until midnight." I replied with gratitude: "Thank you for your hard work, Old Ghost." After hanging up, I told Brother Li and his nephew that they should go back to their rooms and sober up; I'd call them when needed.
To my surprise, they both burped in unison before turning to leave—an acknowledgment of respect towards me. Speechless, I took out the Water Bowl and began divining spirits. Following its guidance led me straight to where the medium was located—in the same room as that child from last night. Since we had met before, they greeted me casually and asked if I'd eaten yet—a common greeting back home.
I replied that I'd already eaten but needed to get something from their room; they could go play in Brother Li's room for now until I called them back. The grandfather nodded and took his grandson along with him as they left; seeing the child's innocent smile made all my efforts worthwhile.
I pulled out my compass again and pinpointed the specific location of the medium—my heart sank when I realized it was several SpongeBob dolls; if memory served correctly, I'd even taken pictures of them.
Using the compass again showed no signs of agitation—it seemed calm enough. Lighting three incense sticks and placing them nearby while reciting Soul Requiem, I took out the Ink Fight Line and surrounded that corner with talismans and copper coins. As soon as the compass began shaking more violently, I quickened my pace. Once I'd secured the Ink Fight Line properly, I knelt before the incense sticks and began folding my hands in prayer while softly chanting an aggressive spell.
I didn't actually need to kneel since they were already trapped by me; however, my master always emphasized respecting all beings—even spirits—regardless of their past actions or intentions. Unless absolutely necessary, we should treat them kindly because they once shared our existence.
At eleven o'clock sharp, I sent a message to my master: "It's fine now."
Half an hour later when there was still no reaction from the compass, I knew my master's Call of Souls had concluded. Sending another message: "Thank you for your hard work, Old Ghost," he didn’t reply—I understood he was busy escorting them away as I finished packing up my things and walked into Brother Li's room where they were watching TV. The child spotted me first and shouted "Uncle!"
I asked if he was sleepy and suggested his grandfather take him to bed.
Turning back to his grandfather, I reassured him that everything was fine now. The grandfather expressed his gratitude with heartfelt thanks but mentioned it would cost quite a bit of money for such services.
I waved him off saying there would be no charge—it was Brother Li's matter after all. He smiled appreciatively before preparing to leave but suddenly remembered something else: "Who gave you those SpongeBob dolls?" His eyes reddened as he explained they belonged to his grandson's great-uncle who had passed away from lung cancer earlier this year; the child just played with them.
Nodding in understanding, I told him it was best for him to head home early since he needed to work tomorrow.
After they left, I nodded thoughtfully, realizing how things were...
I raised my hand to check the time and was surprised to see it was almost midnight. I was about to step out when I suddenly remembered that I hadn't collected my reward yet. I turned back into the room and found Brother Li lying on the bed, fast asleep. Without hesitation, I kicked his shoe with my foot. He didn't wake up. So, I gave him a harder kick, and he finally stirred awake, mumbling in a daze, "Damn it, am I dead? I said it's done, the Kung Fu is finished."
He finally came to his senses and said, "Oh, oh, how detailed! I'll take you back." I replied, "Take me back? Just give me the money. I'm going home." He rummaged through his bag and pulled out an envelope, handing it to me before turning over and going back to sleep. It seemed like the aftereffects had hit him hard. Considering the envelope was quite thick, I couldn't really blame him. I muttered under my breath about how he would be in trouble for this.
At that moment, I received a message from my master saying that the Kung Fu was done. I quickly replied: "Thank you, Master. I'll come home to see you during the May Day holiday. Rest early. Good night." My master didn't respond further.
A wave of guilt washed over me. Even after completing my training, I still often troubled my master. Yet he helped me wholeheartedly without asking for anything in return. Meanwhile, I couldn't even find the time to accompany him or call him regularly to check in. As his only disciple, my performance in this regard was utterly inadequate. I needed to reflect on this and urgently improve myself. My master was getting older. Although he often said, "Now that you've graduated, don't keep coming back here," every time he said that, I could see the helplessness in his eyes, which made me choke up as well. So whenever I had more than three days of free time, I'd go back home to visit him on the mountain—sharing tea, practicing techniques, and taking walks in the bamboo forest while chatting.
I stepped out confidently but noticed that the lights were still on in the little boy's room, so I turned back again. The child was already asleep. I called out to his grandfather and pulled three bills from the envelope, handing them over while saying, "Buy a few new SpongeBob toys for that little boy; those old ones are too dirty. I'll help you throw them away." After saying that, I went over to grab the dolls. His grandfather hesitated for a moment as if reluctant to part with them and said it would be a shame to throw them away; they could just be washed.
I replied, "Just consider it as me buying them for him." "You should rest early," I added before striding towards where I'd parked my vehicle. I didn't want him to know about this; after all, memories tied to objects could bring unnecessary burdens from the past. This burden—I would carry away with me.
With that, everything regarding this matter was settled. To an outsider, it might seem simple; to someone experienced, there were deeper layers involved. It wasn't as simple as it appeared nor as complicated as one might think. Earlier, when I called my master for guidance about the situation—besides Uncle of the Child—the other two Spirit Gods mentioned were also recently deceased individuals nearby and were part of a ritual personally conducted by Uncle of the Child.
My master had already sent them off; their souls returned to their rightful paths. After forty-nine days, may the Three Souls reunite for a good reincarnation.
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