As the woman ran off, the owner of the small shop more or less figured out what was going on. He grabbed a handful of longan fruits, coaxed me to stop crying, and began calling the police.
Three days later, my parents and all our relatives arrived. After showering the shop owner with endless gratitude, they took me home.
Once we were back, my dad brought me to see this old man. The old man looked at me, touched my forehead, and told my dad that this was a case of the "Three Stars Blocking a Disaster." One star had already passed, but we needed to be much more careful from now on.
I had no memory of this story whatsoever, so I just gave an awkward smile and asked, "Uncle, after telling me all this, what exactly is it that you want me to weigh?"
Ignoring me, the old man turned to my dad and said, "The remaining two stars in your son's chart have both grown dim."
Hearing this, my dad panicked and hurriedly asked, "What does that mean? Doesn't one star only block one disaster?"
The old man pulled out a sheet of paper, picked up a ballpoint pen from the side, and fluidly wrote down a long list of items. He handed the paper to my dad and said, "Go back and get these things ready. We need to perform a Daoist ritual."
"If he can make it past May Day, this disaster will pass. But you must still be on guard until he turns eighteen. If he can't make it through, not even the immortals can save him."
My dad panicked even more and pressed him to explain what was really going on. At first, the old man refused to say. But after being relentlessly badgered, he finally relented: "Heavenly secrets cannot be divulged. The evil entity your son has provoked this time is far too powerful. Just do as I say. Whether it succeeds or fails depends on destiny."
With that, he covered his teacup, signaling to my dad that it was time to leave.
As soon as we got back, my dad began bustling about to arrange the ritual, finally setting the date for the night of the fifteenth of April.
On that night, a group of Daoist priests set up an altar in our living room. They mumbled incantations while brandishing Peach Wood Swords through the air, looking every bit like true masters.
After watching for just a little while, I went back to my room, mentally mocking those priests from the bottom of my heart.
Even though their chanting was slurred and indistinct, I could clearly hear that they were just endlessly repeating the *Purification Heart Mantra*. What good could that possibly do?
Time slowly ticked away. Listening to the rise and fall of the chanting downstairs, I drifted off into a hazy sleep.
There was nothing in the dream—just a vast, empty void, with the sound of chanting drifting near and far against my ears.
I don't know how much time had passed, but when I opened my eyes, it was already pitch dark, and a small, ice-cold hand was gently caressing my cheek.
"Young master, you're awake."
It was Shen Xuanrou.
I hurried to sit up, but instead of her usual playful grin, her face was shrouded in gloom. I asked her, "What's wrong? Are you unhappy?"
Shen Xuanrou shook her head and smiled faintly. "Actually, I've long known that my Yin energy is far too heavy. Staying by the young master's side for long would inevitably drain your vital energy and spirit."
"If this goes on for too long, I'm afraid I'll drag the young master down to your grave. That's why I tried to keep it in check, yet I never imagined it would still come to this."
I hurriedly explained, "The group of Daoist priests downstairs were brought here by my dad. I had nothing to do with it."
She placed a finger gently against my lips. "The young master needn't say more. This humble girl understands in her heart."
"Young master, for the sake of your life, we must not meet again. If the young master still cares, remember to bring me some food from time to time."
In an instant, a profound sense of losing something dearest to me welled up in my heart. I thought that I would never see her again.
Back then, I didn't yet understand the feelings between a man and a woman; I only knew that my heart ached terribly.
Shen Xuanrou took two gentle steps back and said, "In the future, the young master must not dwell on me constantly. It will be enough if you merely think of me from time to time.""We have known each other for quite a long time, yet I have never sung a little tune for you, Young Master. Today, allow me to chant one for you."
With that, she gently waved her hands, and a short ditty with a slight Huaiyang accent spilled from her lips. Accompanied by the movement of her graceful figure, it looked exceptionally desolate and poignant under the moonlight.
As the singing began, I noticed the chanting downstairs seemed to stop, but I did not pay it much mind, my body and soul entirely immersed in Shen Xuanrou's song and dance.
No sooner had the dance ended than the clamor and weeping from downstairs reached my ears—the chaotic sounds of stools crashing and doors being smashed open rose one after another.
Shen Xuanrou curtsied and said softly, "We part ways here, Young Master; do not dwell on it. There will come a day when we meet again."
As she spoke, her entire form slowly faded until she vanished completely.
Whether out of reluctance or longing, I frantically reached out to grab her, but grasped nothing at all.
Soon, I heard the sound of a door being broken down behind me. I turned my head to see my father, having procured an iron rod from somewhere, rush in shouting, "Don't be afraid, son! Dad's here to save you!"
Ever since that day, Shen Xuanrou never came again, no matter how many candies and snacks I laid out; there was never the slightest sign of them being touched.
It seemed to fulfill what the old uncle had said: having weathered the May Day period, my health gradually improved, and my complexion slowly recovered. Before long, I was back to the state I had been in before meeting Shen Xuanrou.
Soon, I threw myself into tense and thrilling studies, and, living up to expectations, was admitted to a university in Nanjing.
During my four years of university, I hardly participated in any club activities. Aside from studying, I tinkered with my paraphernalia and rarely took the initiative to maintain social relationships.
In the dormitory, my relations with my classmates were lukewarm; I did not encounter any brothers-in-arms as close as father and son. Occasionally we would share a meal or exchange local specialties, and they usually called me "Ghost Immortal Ma" in half-jest.
It is worth mentioning that during this period, an older sister I had known since middle school, who was four years my senior, became my first love. After half a year of intense romance, we broke up.
Following that, I drifted in a daze and felt lost for a time, constantly dating and changing girlfriends. My reputation plummeted, and the speed at which I went through girlfriends doubled compared to before—until I lost interest and plunged back into the career of a Daoist.
The four years of university were thus whittled away in my languor, and soon, I graduated.
During this time, I went back to sweep the tombs every Qingming Festival. Each time, I would place some candy at Shen Xuanrou's grave, pull out the weeds, and year after year, I would watch the previous year's candies rot in the earth.
I had majored in law, and relying on decent grades and the school's reputation, I entered a law firm, vainly hoping to use my youthful passion to speak up for the poor and seek justice for victims.
Reality crushed me very quickly. On one hand, the industry was not as glamorous as I had imagined; every day consisted only of endless case files and running endless errands.
Most importantly, this profession could neither speak for the poor nor dispense justice. If I insisted on doing so, it would only make my wallet progressively leaner until I was finally kicked out of the law firm by the boss.
What left the deepest impression on me was a case I once handled for my master. The defendant was an extremely wealthy man, and I watched with my own eyes as my master extorted pile after pile of money from him, only to watch helplessly in the end as the defendant was declared innocent and acquitted right there in the courtroom.
I watched the plaintiff collapse in tears in the courtroom, with no one extending a helping hand.