In my grandmother's kitchen, the family gathered anxiously around the exhausted Daoist, everyone asking how things were going.
Wenbin looked at their hopeful faces and shook his head. "I'm afraid we're in for trouble today."
Hearing this, Grandmother immediately dropped to her knees. The third aunt and youngest uncle quickly followed. Through tears, Grandmother begged, "Master, years ago we failed to recognize a true spiritual master and drove away your teacher. Please don't hold it against us. You must save my daughter! The doctors have already told us to prepare for her funeral. We have no other options—we can only count on you now. Our Xu family has made coffins for generations. We've never shorted anyone on materials or overcharged. For those too poor to afford one, we've even provided thin coffins for free. We've surely built up good karma, so why must we suffer like this?"
Wenbin quickly helped Grandmother to her feet. "Sister, regarding my master, I completely understand. He was quite eccentric—sometimes even I couldn't understand him. I don't blame you at all. The issue is that your daughter's birth chart shows a reversal of yin and yang energies. This year, she was destined to face a calamity. When you passed the reservoir that night, this little girl, whose Five Elements lack Water, became the perfect target for those little ghosts. According to my calculations, she should pass away on the fifteenth of this month. Today is already the fourteenth. The ghosts are still in her room—I've temporarily bound your daughter's soul with the binding rope and sealed the exits with talismans. I believe they're still waiting to snatch her soul."
Grandmother was terrified. She'd heard old people speak of ghosts stealing souls, but now it was happening to her own daughter. Trying to be brave, she asked, "How many ghosts are there?"
Wenbin held up two fingers. "Two—a boy and a girl. They're the spirits of children."
At these words, the family immediately knew what might be happening. Years ago, two children had drowned in that reservoir while catching snails. Since then, parents had forbidden their children from playing there. It wasn't until years later, after the reservoir was renovated, that my cousin took me swimming there.
Wenbin continued, "Those two children died unjustly, so they're trying to find replacements. I suspect someone else in your village—a boy—might meet with misfortune on the thirtieth of this month."
Grandmother asked if there was any solution.
Wenbin replied, "There is a way, but..."
Thinking he wanted payment, Grandmother immediately took out several "Great Unity" bills and offered them to him.
But Wenbin waved them away. "Sister, please prepare some red and green paper, and make some food."
The colorful paper wasn't a problem—the third aunt enjoyed paper cutting as a hobby, so soon they had a table covered with red and green sheets.
Wenbin turned to the third aunt. "Take your scissors and cut out two sets of clothes—one red, one green. Child-sized. The style doesn't matter as long as they look like clothes."
Though timid by nature, the third aunt had skilled hands. In no time, she had cut out two little outfits and handed them to Wenbin. He placed the paper clothes in a bamboo tray and instructed Grandmother to prepare six dishes—three meat and three vegetable—plus two cups of wine, two empty bowls, and two pairs of chopsticks, arranging everything in the tray.
When all was ready about half an hour later, Wenbin placed everything at the front door, then lit three sticks of incense and two candles.
As the incense burned down, a sudden cock's crow came from the chicken coop. Wenbin shouted "Not good!" and rushed into my aunt's room. He bit his middle finger and placed a drop of blood on my aunt's forehead, then instructed Grandfather to catch the largest rooster from the coop.
Grandfather didn't hesitate. He quickly brought a speckled rooster, which Wenbin slaughtered to collect its blood. He sprinkled the blood in a circle around my aunt's bed, then retreated from the room. Standing before the table with the upside-down rice, he closed his eyes and shouted, "Hah!"
From his Eight Trigrams bag, he produced a sword and a large seal. The sword gleamed with an ancient, elegant craftsmanship—its blade connecting seamlessly to an eight-trigram handle. The bronze seal was about the size of an adult's palm, inscribed with: "the Treasures: The Way, the Classics, and the Masters"
With sword in his right hand and seal in his left, he began chanting incantations. Like the Celestial Lord Lao Tzu descended to earth, he suddenly flicked his wrist—the sword flashed, catching a talisman from the table. He pointed the sword at my aunt on the bed, and with a "hiss," the talisman ignited. He repeated this with a second talisman. After both papers burned completely, Wenbin took out a pitch-black sheet of paper and vigorously drew a new talisman. For the first time, he employed the large seal, pressing it onto the black talisman and placing it in my aunt's room. He added eight more talismans adjacent to the eight he'd placed earlier, then closed the door behind him.
Wenbin instructed Grandmother and Grandfather to take the children immediately to the reservoir's edge. They were to place the paper clothes, dishes, and bowls by the water, return only at daybreak, and importantly—make no sound and never look back toward the house. He also asked for the youngest uncle's little black dog.
Grandmother and Grandfather carried the bamboo tray to the reservoir with the third aunt and youngest uncle. The normally short two-mile journey felt extraordinarily long that night. Grandfather led with the tray while Grandmother followed with the children, following Wenbin's instructions exactly. At the reservoir dam, they turned their backs to the house, lit incense and candles, set out the bowls and chopsticks, and waited in an old pump house until dawn.
When daylight came, they hurried home. At the entrance, they found the door open and Wenbin collapsed unconscious outside my aunt's room. Grandfather rushed to check on my aunt.
She was lying peacefully on her bed, sleeping normally. The two exchanged glances, then helped Wenbin to their room to rest. When he regained consciousness, he was extremely weak. He told Grandmother, "Everything's fine now. Let her rest well."
Wenbin slept until the following evening, waking at the same time as my aunt. She immediately said she was hungry, and Grandmother made her egg noodles, which she ate with great appetite.
Wenbin also got up for dinner. During the meal, Grandmother asked what had happened the night before. He explained, "When the rooster crowed, the little ghosts knew dawn was approaching. They were preparing to snatch her soul." He glanced at his sword and seal with a rueful smile. "If not for these two items, they might have succeeded. But they've temporarily departed now."
After dinner, Grandmother respectfully served Wenbin tea and produced a stack of "Great Unity" bills. In rural areas back then, after a spiritual ritual, it was customary to give red envelopes to shamans or mediums. Since my aunt seemed completely recovered, payment was certainly appropriate.
Zha Wenbin smiled and waved his hand. "Sister, I don't do this for money. I can't accept your payment. As a Daoist practitioner, I'm here to help people—this is simply my duty. Besides, my master had a connection with this child. I absolutely cannot accept money. If my ancestors found out, they would punish me."
Grandmother insisted, feeling indebted to this man who had saved her daughter without asking for anything in return.
Wenbin sipped his tea and continued, "The girl is safe now, but I'm afraid I'll be in trouble tonight. I can't return home alone. The little ghosts originally targeted your daughter, but I've damaged their spiritual power. Tonight is a full moon, and their resentment is strong—they'll likely come seeking revenge. If my master were still alive, eliminating these two ghosts wouldn't be difficult, but my skills are limited. I'll need your help, brother."
Grandfather immediately stood up. "Whatever you need, I'll make it happen."
Wenbin patted the little black dog's head. "I expect these ghosts will ambush me on the road. Brother, please find three pig slaughterers to escort me home. Once I reach my house, these ghosts won't be able to harm me."
Butchers who regularly dealt with blood carried heavy killing energy that most minor ghosts wouldn't dare approach. The fact that Wenbin needed three butchers as escorts showed just how powerful these child ghosts really were.
In those days, almost every village had a butcher, so finding three wasn't difficult. Grandfather returned shortly with three butchers, each carrying sharp slaughtering knives.
Grandfather briefly explained the situation. The butchers were burly, rough-looking men with fierce appearances. They accepted cigarettes and drank some alcohol. At exactly midnight, they set off from Grandmother's house to escort Wenbin home.
Later, I verified this story with two of these butchers who are still alive. They told me that despite it being summer, a cold wind blew constantly that night. They felt someone following them, but Wenbin forbade them from looking back or speaking. He had them hold their knives ready as they surrounded him and hurried along the path.
Once Wenbin reached home, he gave each man a pack of cigarettes, a bottle of liquor, and a talisman before sending them back. Then he locked himself inside his house and remained there for seven days without emerging.
The next day, Grandfather and Grandmother brought my aunt to visit him, but he refused all visitors.
During Wenbin's seclusion, Grandmother took my aunt back to the hospital for a check-up. Remarkably, she was completely normal. Even the doctor who had told them to prepare for her funeral was astounded by her recovery.
For seven days, Grandmother waited outside Wenbin's house. On the morning of the eighth day, he finally opened his door. Grandmother entered and had my aunt kneel to give him three respectful bows in gratitude for saving her life. Wenbin was easygoing and again refused Grandmother's money. When she insisted on leaving something, Wenbin reluctantly said, "Sister, if you truly want to thank me, could you give me your little black dog?"
My grandmother would have given him a fat pig if he'd asked, let alone a dog. She immediately agreed, saying Grandfather would bring it over.
Wenbin explained, "I'm not trying to take advantage of your family. It's just that this dog has the ability to see spirits, and as a pure black dog, it can recognize ghosts. If it stayed in your home, it would eventually cause trouble. With me, it can serve a purpose. I hope you don't mind."
Later, Grandmother told me that my youngest uncle had thrown a tantrum and cried over losing his dog. But that little black dog truly became Wenbin's companion and appeared in another story—though that's a tale for another time.
A few days later, Wenbin visited our family. After eating lunch at Grandmother's, he went to the homes of the two drowned children, asking about where their bodies had been recovered and buried.
Back then, when a child died, they would simply be wrapped in a straw mat, buried on a small hill in a shallow grave, with no tombstone or marker.
On the way to the burial site, Wenbin asked the children's parents if they had visited the graves since the burials. The father of one child said he hadn't gone back since it was too painful—he only knew which mountain they were buried on, not the exact location. The children had been buried by others. Wenbin used his Luopan compass, walking and calculating until they reached Horse Head Mountain.
I know this mountain well. It stands directly opposite Grandmother's front door—a strangely prominent hill rising from the flat land, shaped like a horse's head.
When they reached the mountaintop, the sun was nearly setting. They finally found the children's graves—small mounds covered in weeds, barely visible if not for the disturbed soil. Seeing where their children lay, the parents knelt on the ground, overwhelmed with grief.
Wenbin ignored their crying and walked around the graves, measuring and calculating. After finishing a cigarette, he seemed to have reached a conclusion. He gathered the parents and asked, "Do you know what mountain this is?"
Of course, everyone knew it was Horse Head Mountain!
"Horse Head Mountain? Ox-Head and Horse-Face! Yes, this mountain is a waystation for the Underworld messengers. Your children were buried right on the horse's back, leaving Ox-Head and Horse-Face with a pair of soul-snatching ghosts in the village—forever trapped in the cycle of reincarnation! We need to dig them up so I can perform proper rites and move them. Surely you don't want your children to continue causing harm even in death?"
The villagers all knew about what had happened to my aunt days earlier. Hearing Wenbin's explanation, both families grew anxious. What if their children really had become what he described? That would be terrible suffering—no peace even after death. After a brief discussion, the two fathers agreed. People nearby began digging with hoes.
The children weren't buried deep. Soon they uncovered two straw mats. When they opened them, everyone froze in shock. These children had been dead for over two years, yet not only had their bodies not decomposed, they looked almost lifelike—as if they were merely sleeping. The families were too frightened to move. This was June weather, yet there wasn't even a smell!
Zha Wenbin sighed heavily. "I didn't expect this. Their bodies can't be brought back to the village now, or they'll eventually cause an epidemic. We have no choice but to cremate them and rebury their ashes somewhere else." Everyone knew bodies naturally decay after death, but these children's appearance... if this wasn't supernatural, what was? At this point, they had no choice but to follow the Daoist's instructions. No one dared say otherwise.
Wenbin instructed the group to gather dry firewood and build a pyre right there. Once it was ready, he had the two bodies placed on top. He stuck three incense sticks in front, looked at the children one last time, then lit the fire and began chanting prayers to guide the little ghosts to the underworld.
After the cremation, they collected the ashes, descended the mountain, and buried them by the reservoir's edge. They even erected a small tombstone. By then it was dark. Wenbin went to my grandmother's house for dinner before returning home.
That night, my aunt had a dream. The two children came to bid her farewell, bowing respectfully and asking her to thank a certain Daoist. The next day, Grandmother visited Wenbin to interpret the dream. He nodded and said the little ghosts had likely moved on, then asked Grandmother to warn the villagers never to bury anyone on Horse Head Mountain again.
Although my aunt recovered, after this ordeal her health remained fragile. She caught colds easily and didn't fully regain her strength until adulthood.
Following this incident, Wenbin's reputation grew. Many families invited him to perform funeral rites, but he never accepted payment. When children my age in neighboring villages experienced frightening episodes, he would typically burn a talisman, dissolve it in water, and have them drink it. Being familiar with traditional medicine, he could distinguish between spiritual afflictions and physical illness, prescribing herbs for minor ailments and recommending hospital care for serious conditions.
Many people sought to become his apprentices, wanting to learn his skills, but Wenbin never took disciples. He lived like an ordinary villager—working the fields and gathering firewood in the mountains. If not for the incident with my aunt, no one would have known he was a Daoist.
As for when I first met him—that happened many years later.
When I was six years old, something happened.
Our village was also in a mountainous area. We had a large temple built of gray bricks. My father said no one knew which dynasty it was from. It was already abandoned when our great-grandfather arrived here as a refugee from a famine. A hundred years later, it looked even more dilapidated.
In the 1960s, a large portion of the temple was burned down. The fire turned the brick walls red-hot, though the main hall somehow survived. Over time, people took bricks from the ruins to build houses. Strangely, structures built with these temple bricks often collapsed—one such incident killed an entire family. After that, people only used the bricks to build pigpens.
Our family also had one of these bricks. It was very heavy, with a carved qilin on one side and nothing on the other—what we'd now call a relief brick. My father had picked it up while playing as a child. And that's how I became connected to this temple...
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Chinese Words/Phrases in Chapter 2 The Waystation on Horse Head Mountain
Character Names and Titles
1. Wenbin (查文斌) - The Daoist practitioner who performs ritual healing
2. Grandmother (外婆) - The aunt's mother
3. Grandfather (外公) - The aunt's father
4. Third aunt (三姨) - One of the relatives who assists with the ritual
Daoist Practitioners and Sects
1. Daoist (道士) - A practitioner of Daoism, as exemplified by Zha Wenbin
2. Celestial Lord Lao Tzu (太上老君) - High deity in Daoism referenced as a simile for Wenbin's supernatural appearance
3. Daoist practitioner (道教修行者) - One who practices Daoist cultivation and rituals
Divination Tools and Objects
1. Eight Trigrams bag (八卦包) - Special bag carried by Wenbin containing ritual implements
2. Luopan compass (罗盘) - Geomantic compass used for spiritual navigation
3. Talismans (符/符咒) - Paper charms with written characters used in Daoist magic
4. Black talisman (黑符) - Special powerful talisman drawn on black paper
5. Sword (剑) - Ritual sword with an eight-trigram handle used in ceremonies
6. Seal of the Treasures: The Way, the Classics, and the Masters(道经师宝) - Bronze seal used to authorize talismans
7. Incense (香) - Burned during rituals to connect with spiritual entities
8. Candles (蜡烛) - Used in ritual ceremonies alongside incense
Ritual Practices and Techniques
1. Binding rope (捆仙绳) - Magical rope used to bind a person's soul to their body
2. Upside-down rice (倒头饭) - Ritual half-cooked rice prepared for ceremonies
3. Paper clothes (纸衣) - Cut-out clothing made of colored paper as offerings
4. Soul-snatching (勾魂) - The process of spirits taking a human soul
5. Incantations (咒语) - Magical formulas chanted during rituals
6. Sealing exits (封门) - Using talismans to prevent spirits from entering or exiting
7. Blood marking (血点) - Using blood (finger or animal) in protective rituals
8. Cremation rites (火化仪式) - Special ceremony to properly release spirits
9. Dream visitation (托梦) - Spirits appearing in dreams to communicate
Cultural and Historical References
1. Five Elements (五行) - System of elements (metal, wood, water, fire, earth) used in Chinese cosmology
2. Yin and Yang (阴阳) - Complementary forces in Chinese philosophy
3. Great Unity bills (大团结) - Type of Chinese currency during that historical period
4. Cycle of reincarnation (轮回) - Buddhist/Daoist concept of rebirth
5. Killing energy (杀气) - Spiritual energy carried by butchers that repels ghosts
Locations
1. Horse Head Mountain (马头山) - Mountain shaped like a horse's head, serving as a spiritual waystation
2. Waystation (驿站) - Transitional place for underworld messengers
3. Reservoir (水库) - Where the two children drowned years earlier
Mythological Beings
1. Ox-Head and Horse-Face (牛头马面) - Underworld messengers in Chinese mythology
2. Soul-snatching ghosts (勾魂鬼) - Spirits that take human souls
3. Little ghosts (小鬼) - Minor spirits, in this case the drowned children
4. Qilin (麒麟) - Mythical creature carved on the temple brick