Volume One – The Hundred Coffins Tomb Chapter Three – Daoist of Qianshan

Tonight the wind was especially cold. Liu Cheng pulled his coat tighter around him. On his back, he carried an iron shovel and a crowbar; in his hand, he held a paper lantern whose faint glow only deepened the shadows. Yet Liu Cheng felt not the slightest fear—in fact, an undercurrent of excitement thrummed within him. After tonight, he thought, he would be able to return to his little pleasures, sipping wine in leisure.

As Liu Cheng made his way deeper into the mountains and the clustered tombs came into view, his excitement ebbed away, washed out by a rising tension. To steady his nerves, he took a swig from his wine gourd and approached a solitary grave.

He set the lantern down and, by the dim light of the moon, hefted the shovel and began to dig. After more than half an hour, his efforts revealed a newly sealed coffin. Liu Cheng jumped down beside it, brushed the earth from its lid, and muttered apologies under his breath—though his hands never paused in their work. He fetched the crowbar, wedged it into the gap of the coffin, and pressed down. With a sharp creak, the lid popped up at one end. He tossed the crowbar aside and, summoning all his strength, pried the lid off, sending it crashing onto the mound of earth.

Liu Cheng dusted off his hands, exhilaration surging in his heart. But when he saw the corpse within, cold sweat broke out all over his body. The coffin held a woman—someone he recognized as the owner of the pawnshop at the market. Half the skin from her face was gone; from nose to brow, the flesh had vanished, leaving behind a ghastly visage. Staggering back several steps, Liu Cheng was shaken—never before had he seen a person meet so grim an end. He grabbed his gourd and drained the rest of the wine, forcing down his terror.

He patted his chest, placed the lantern by the coffin’s corner, and leaned in for another look—this time avoiding the dead woman’s face. Amidst the corpse’s legs were piles of silver and gold ornaments, and several stacks of large coins. There must have been over thirty silver dollars, along with all the jewelry the woman had favored in life. Liu Cheng’s face lit up with excitement; the sight of such wealth banished his fear. He bowed to the corpse and murmured words of thanks.

Crouching atop the mound, he reached in and pulled out a bucket of coins, pouring them into his hands to examine them in the moonlight. With these treasures, he thought, he could gamble and drink to his heart’s content. But just as this thought crossed his mind, he caught a glimpse of a white figure approaching from a distance. The sight startled him—not because he feared ghosts, but because he dreaded being discovered by another person. If word of his deed got out, he would be as good as dead. Heart pounding, he gripped the coins tightly and fixed his eyes on the approaching figure.

As it drew near, Liu Cheng saw it was an elderly man with a white beard, dressed in Taoist robes and wearing a scholar’s cap adorned with a hairpin. Realizing the newcomer was a Taoist priest, Liu Cheng’s tension eased somewhat.

The old priest stopped before Liu Cheng and said, “Good deeds bring blessings; to profit from the dead is to shorten your own life. Young man, you are still young—why pursue such acts? I urge you to desist, lest you suffer the torments of the next life.”

Hearing this, Liu Cheng sensed that the priest possessed true insight. He bowed respectfully and replied, “Master, it is not out of desire that I do this. I am driven by necessity—if I do not, I will starve.”

The Taoist sighed and studied Liu Cheng’s face, frowning slightly. “I perceive your three souls and seven spirits are restless, as if about to leave you. Furthermore, there is a mark upon your spirit—a remnant of another’s will. Tell me, have you encountered something unusual?”

Liu Cheng was taken aback. Was there truly another’s will imprinted on his soul? Could it be Brother Huang? He hadn’t expected the priest to see so deeply.

He recounted his encounter with the weasel and explained that the woman in the coffin had died from its curse. Upon hearing this, the Taoist turned to study the corpse in silence.

After a long moment, the priest spoke. “It seems the mark on your soul was left by that weasel. Once everyone in this village is dead, you will be the last. The weasel will supplant your three souls and seven spirits, becoming the new you—while you will vanish from this world.”

Liu Cheng remembered then—indeed, the weasel had told him, “You are the second me.”

He knelt before the priest, begging for salvation. The old man replied, “To save you is no great hardship—and only by saving you can the people of this village be spared. It is for this reason that I have come. Before leaving, I cast a divination and knew I would find here the one to save the village. That one, it seems, is you.” He stroked his long beard as he spoke.

Liu Cheng asked in confusion, “I can save the village?”

The priest nodded. “The mark on you is the root of the weasel’s curse. You are the medium through which it spreads. Unless you die, the curse will not end until every villager is dead.”

This revelation filled Liu Cheng with panic. He knelt again, pleading for the priest’s help. The old Taoist shook his head with a sigh. “Very well. I had not intended to take another disciple, but seeing these circumstances, I cannot refuse. Young man, will you accept me as your master?”

Without hesitation, Liu Cheng knelt and performed the ritual bows of apprenticeship.

The priest instructed him to rebury the coffin. Though Liu Cheng longed for the treasures within, he obeyed and restored the grave. Thereafter, the Taoist took Liu Cheng to the monastery, where he was immersed in a vat of medicinal herbs for ten hours. The priest then gave him a book called “The Twenty-Four Mountain Arts of Feng Shui,” instructing him to study diligently. In the days that followed, the strange deaths in the village ceased, and Liu Cheng devoted himself to spiritual cultivation in the mountains alongside his master.

Five years passed. When the old priest reached the end of his days, he revealed his name to Liu Cheng’s grandfather at the very last moment. He was known as Master Qianshan.