Chapter Sixty-Four: Sacrifice

I felt as though my soul had lost all control. Though I still held the talisman brush, it was no longer my own hand that guided its strokes. Before me, a shocking talisman took shape—not on paper, but drawn in midair by the brush. This talisman was no longer a flash of blood-red; instead, it shimmered with a subtle purple hue. Slowly, it drifted toward Liu of the White Funeral and the evil spirit. The pull from the brush returned, stronger and clearer than ever, nearly tearing my soul from my body. Darkness enveloped my consciousness. I did not know whether the talisman landed on the evil spirit, or whether Liu of the White Funeral was slain.

My soul collapsed backward, sinking back into my body. Alongside the draining sensation, I felt a creeping weakness, the gradual onset of death. Pain faded, and all feeling vanished. Sounds at my ears grew chaotic—voices overlapping, harsh, and indistinct. I heard Old Master Wang’s desperate, despairing cries; Second Brother Wang’s anxious shouts; perhaps even my mother’s quiet sobs. The noise was both clear and distant, sometimes near and sometimes fading. I could not reconcile myself to this fate—not having fulfilled my mother’s last wishes, not taking my father to find her, not saving everyone else. And then, that final anguished cry—was it Chan Shu arriving at last? Had she finally come? Yet I was not the one she wanted. Perhaps this was a kind of release, so long as they were saved and Liu of the White Funeral and the evil spirit destroyed.

My consciousness faded completely into darkness.

I do not know how much time passed before I felt something cool on my face, pain in my body. With a start, my awareness returned—how could I feel pain? Could the dead feel pain? I opened my eyes. Above me was pitch blackness; after a moment, my vision adjusted and the darkness receded, revealing a familiar beam overhead. For as long as I could remember, waking and sleeping, this beam had always been above me. Was I home? Had they returned my corpse here? Had my soul not been scattered, nor sent to the underworld?

I tried to rise, the pain intensifying. Unable to hold back, I groaned aloud. “I’m not dead!” The thought burst forth. The worst pain was in my chest, then my shoulder, thigh, and waist. I could still recall these were wounds from when Liu of the White Funeral smashed me with the bamboo fence. The agony could not suppress my astonishment. My soul had been emptied; Old Master Wang had said I would die. My awareness vanished—how was I alive?

Such grievous injuries—and my soul nearly destroyed. Yet I felt it clearly: while my body bore wounds, my soul was whole, untouched, as if I had never used soul blood. Struggling from the bed, I staggered to the door and opened it, breathless.

Before me was not a gloomy sky, but a dusky sunset. I stared, dazed, at the clouds ablaze like fire, the evening sunlight warm on my face. I could not control the trembling of my consciousness; tears streamed down. Liu of the White Funeral was dead! The evil spirit was dead! Otherwise, sunlight would never shine on Hundred Households Village.

Then, with a clatter, something fell to the ground. “He’s awake! Grandma! Xie Yuan’s awake! He’s awake!” The voice snapped me from my reverie. Second Brother Wang stood at the kitchen door, shaking all over, a basket of vegetables spilled on the floor. In the next moment, he rushed to me, hugging me tightly, trembling and nearly crying, “Xie Yuan, you finally woke up—I thought you were gone for sure! Old Master Wang was right—you really came back!”

The pressure on my wounds sent a wave of pain through me, darkening my vision. “Fatty, are you trying to kill me?” I couldn’t help but cry out. Second Brother Wang released me, his face full of excitement, wiping away tears and shouting toward the house.

From the main room, Grandma Li tottered out. Her once-round face seemed much thinner; the perpetual smile was gone, replaced by an indescribable sadness. Seeing me, she managed a faint smile, but it looked lonelier than ever.

“Awake… Awake is good…” She came to my side and touched my face. I murmured, “Grandma, how did I wake up? Where is Old Master Wang? What happened in the end?” Besides Old Master Wang, I wanted to ask about my father, Aunt Hui, and most of all, my mother and Chan Shu—did they come in the end?

Grandma Li lowered her head. “Grandma’s tired, needs to rest a while. Fatty will tell you.” She turned, staggering back to her room. An uneasy feeling took root in my heart.

“Xie Yuan, you just woke up—there’s chicken soup in the pot, I’ll serve you some. You’ve been unconscious for days, don’t stand too long,” Second Brother Wang said, flustered, turning to leave.

My voice was hoarse, anxious. “Fatty, stop!” I grabbed his arm tightly. He shivered, his eyes red. My unease deepened.

He forced a grim smile. “Old Master Wang… died…”

Grandma Li’s door slammed shut. My face went pale, my voice trembling. “Why did he die? Was it Liu of the White Funeral…?”

Second Brother Wang shook his head, a flicker of fear in his eyes—and that fear seemed directed at me. “You went mad, drawing talismans with your own blood, but couldn’t hold on and collapsed. But your soul remained standing. I saw your soul bleeding. Then a shadow appeared on your body—someone who looked like you, but felt strange. He guided you to draw a talisman, then you fell.”

“Liu of the White Funeral and the evil spirit were under your talisman, utterly powerless—vanished in an instant.”

“The evil spirit vanished twice. Old Master Wang said that before, Liu’s suicide summoned five little ghosts, and most importantly, gave the evil spirit a second life.”

“Even with two lives, the evil spirit couldn’t survive.”

“After their souls were scattered, you were near death—I thought you had no heartbeat or awareness, just clutching the brush.”

“Old Master Wang held you, crying—he’d guarded you for decades, waited so long, only to bring you here before you woke. He regretted it, wished he could die instead of you.”

I trembled again. Second Brother Wang’s face grew more desolate. “Old Master Wang grabbed your hand, and drove the talisman brush into his own heart. He stopped breathing, but you started.”

“When he died, Grandma Li woke up. He spoke with her about things I didn’t understand—something left somewhere, must show you, must heal your wounds.”

“After settling things, he passed on.”

“My father took the ghost fetus away—I didn’t see Aunt Hui, her soul nearly gone, probably not much longer.”

“And Xie Yuan… I saw your mother. She seemed to enter your body.” Second Brother Wang’s eyes widened, repeating, “Yes! Not just your mother—after Old Master Wang died, he entered your body too!”

“Grandma Li kept crying, heartbroken.”

“We carried you back, she treated your wounds—you’ve been unconscious for three days.”

My face changed, eyes wide as I looked at my trembling hands. My voice was raspy, “No, impossible—how could this happen?”

Suddenly, I understood why I survived. Old Master Wang committed suicide after I’d lost consciousness, letting his soul enter my body—he was consumed, so my soul did not disperse. I did not deserve such a price; he was never waiting for me. And my mother, too—she sacrificed herself…

Tears fell in great drops. Second Brother Wang grew anxious. “Xie Yuan, don’t blame yourself. Old Master Wang… he surely had no regrets…”

I could not even force a smile; my face was deathly pale.

“The bodies?” I asked.

He hesitated. “At my house. Grandma wouldn’t let us bury them—said you’d want to see them when you woke.”

I staggered toward the courtyard. Not only Old Master Wang’s body, but also my mother’s, lay in Second Brother Wang’s cellar. He followed behind.

“Fatty, wait at home—I want to go alone,” I said.

He stopped. Soon, I arrived at his house. The concealment spell had faded. Old Master Wang’s body lay flat in the courtyard. His face was deathly pale from blood loss, his whole body shriveled, unnaturally thin. In his chest was the talisman brush.

I sat on the ground, staring at the corpse, tears streaming. My heart ached with grief. I whispered, “I didn’t want your life in exchange for mine.”

But he was just a corpse—his soul gone, unable to hear or respond.

“I… am not…” My voice grew lower, choked with sobs.

Before I could finish, a hand gently touched my face. It came from behind, wiping away my tears.

“Mother!” My voice trembled as I turned, but it was not her face I saw.

It was another.

“I came too late…” The voice was cool and clear, yet full of tenderness.

“Don’t cry… He’s still here… That woman—your mother—is still here too.”

My body shivered, eyes wide in shock.

“How… how can this be?”