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One evening, by chance, I was out dining with friends and had a few drinks. On my way home, I met a taxi driver. His surname was Zhu, so let's call him Master Zhu.
From his accent, I could tell he was from Hubei. He was particularly talkative, and since I had been drinking quite a bit, I became quite chatty as well. After discussing everything from astronomy to geography, national affairs to global finance, we eventually got around to my profession.
I jokingly told him that I was a Soul Sender, someone who dealt with ghosts and spirits. I didn't expect him to believe me, but to my surprise, Master Zhu not only took me seriously but also said he believed in such things. He mentioned that as a taxi driver, he sometimes encountered strange occurrences.
Feeling encouraged, I suddenly had the urge to share a few stories with him. Then he spoke up about something happening at his home. He asked if I could help him look into it. Since it was late and I had been drinking without bringing any tools for work, I told him it wasn't possible that night. I suggested he tell me about it first so I could analyze the situation and then contact him the next day. Master Zhu agreed and gave me his phone number before starting to explain the matter.
Here’s what happened: Master Zhu's family of three had been living in Guangzhou for eight years. He drove a taxi while his wife rented a small storefront in a lane on Fengle Middle Road in Huangpu District, where she ran a tiny barbershop. She managed both as the owner and barber. It was a modest shop with only two haircutting stations—just your typical neighborhood barbershop. Behind the storefront were their bedroom and kitchen. The family lived simply and happily; although they hadn’t earned enough to buy a house, they were content with their lives.
However, two months ago, something strange occurred. They usually closed the shop by nine o'clock, but that night, because Master Zhu had a friend over, they chatted until after ten.
Just as his friend left and he was about to close up, an old man came in asking for a buzz cut. The man looked unwell; his face was wrinkled and appeared very aged. Despite being at an age where one would expect white hair, he had a full head of black hair that hung over his ears. Initially, Master Zhu's wife didn’t want to take the customer due to his appearance, but after much pleading from the old man, she reluctantly agreed to cut his hair. Nowadays, with advanced dyeing techniques, hair color doesn’t necessarily indicate age or health issues; thus even though the old man looked ancient, it didn’t mean he was actually old.
I asked if that old man was the same one who came for a haircut that night. He replied that he didn’t know because he had already gone to bed when the old man arrived.
I then asked if he had mentioned this incident to his wife.
He said no; he didn’t want to scare her.
By this point in our conversation, Master Zhu had driven me to my building's entrance. He parked the car and handed me a cigarette before continuing. He added that this wasn’t the only strange occurrence; his son had also seen something that frightened him so much that he hadn’t recovered for several days. Although he was feeling better now, he wasn’t as lively as before.
I asked how they managed their nights now.
He replied that they went to bed by ten o'clock and stayed inside afterward. Sometimes there were noises outside, but if they stayed indoors, nothing happened.
I chuckled lightly and said, "So you've figured out a pattern! Impressive."
Master Zhu awkwardly laughed in response and said there was no other choice; after ten o'clock at night, the barbershop became its own territory where they couldn’t find anyone capable of resolving such issues. I remarked that it seemed like fate brought us together for this matter and offered to give it a try.
He seemed excited at my offer and said it would be great; he'd wait for my call the next day.
At that time, the fare was 78 yuan.
I took out a hundred yuan bill to pay Master Zhu, but he insisted it wasn't necessary and said we could consider ourselves friends. I quickly replied that business is business.
I was actually worried that accepting this favor would make it difficult for me to negotiate tomorrow. The next day, I got up, went for a run, had breakfast, and finished my morning class. I called Master Zhu, and after one ring, he picked up. He said he had just finished his shift and hadn’t slept yet, waiting for my call. I apologized and told him I wouldn’t be coming over until later in the evening. I just wanted to get his address first and planned to come by around 10 PM to discuss the reward.
Master Zhu said, "Just tell me how much you need. Although we don’t have much money, we should still be able to afford it." I knew Master Zhu was straightforward and even offered a lower price than expected. I mentioned the initial number, but before I could finish with the unit, he agreed, clearly in a hurry.
I said, "Alright, I'll come by tonight. Are you on the night shift?" He replied, "I’ll have someone help me out; it’s not a big deal. You all go in first. If everything is settled, I'll come in and call you. Just turn on the TV and keep the volume up. Don’t eavesdrop or peek."
After giving my instructions, I was confident they would follow them. I took out a pair of red candles and lit them on two barber chairs. The two candles reflected in the mirror, instantly appearing as four, making the room seem bright. Then I turned off the lights; I was certain it was in this room. Without needing a compass to search for it, I simply sat in the barber chair facing the mirror, adopting a challenging demeanor as if to say, "Come scare me."
However, even with my defiant posture, it seemed uninterested in scaring me, which annoyed me slightly. As I watched the mirror while shaking my leg, the flickering candlelight made everything in the room appear to dance. The model head on the table looked particularly eerie. After a long while, despite there being no wind, the wig on that model head began to move. My excitement grew—finally!
The candles had burned halfway down as I stared intently at the model head. Although its expressionless face seemed to be staring back at me too, its hair began to shake more violently. This reminded me of Mei Chaofeng from The Legend of the Condor Heroes. I recalled that old man who came for a haircut before Master Zhang’s family encountered trouble. It made sense that this spirit god would attach itself to the hair; however, its entrance was quite dramatic as it played with the wig on the model head. I wasn’t sure what it intended to do; if it was merely trying to scare me, that would be manageable since I wouldn’t fear something so illogical.
To assert my dominance over it, I stood up and looked down at the model head with an air of superiority. Perhaps my proud expression angered it because what happened next startled even me—suddenly, the plastic head's hair drooped down and stopped floating. Not only that, but the expressionless model actually started laughing while the candles flickered erratically. As I gazed into the mirror at my muscular physique, my head was replaced by that of the laughing model.
In the adjacent mirror was another image—the spirit god described by Master Zhu: an old man with white hair who was also laughing at me with an eerie grin. This was a common method used by spirit gods to frighten people; it reminded me of what Master Zhu’s wife experienced when twenty yuan turned into joss paper.
This phenomenon was fascinating; although I couldn’t explain its principle clearly, I knew how to respond. Everything was an illusion meant to scare me—the model head in my reflection was fake; so was the spirit god in the other mirror—the real one was attached to the hair of that model head.
I recited a chant for clarity and took out some cinnabar ash to sprinkle over the fake head. The moment I finished sprinkling it, both red candles extinguished almost simultaneously, plunging the room into dimness but not complete darkness—there was still a sliver of light coming from outside that served as my mental anchor. I disliked being in total darkness; being in such an environment with a spirit god felt passive and suffocating. Quickly, I retrieved a backup flashlight and turned it on to shine at the model head—nothing seemed amiss.
It must have already emerged.
I shone my flashlight at the mirror; its reflection illuminated not only myself but also behind me stood an old man with white hair. I sighed in relief because I hadn’t sealed off the door—I feared most that it would escape. However, given this situation now allowed me to see it meant communication was possible.
We stared at each other in the mirror, one in front and the other behind. I knew I couldn't turn back, not even daring to move the flashlight, afraid it might scare it away. The figure in the mirror gazed at me, silent and seemingly surprised that I wasn't afraid of it. We simply looked at each other quietly. In the background, I could hear the sounds of a fight from a historical drama coming from inside the house. Suddenly, my blood surged with excitement, and I felt an impulse to confront it.
But that was unrealistic. It wasn't Mei Chaofeng, and I wasn't Guo Jing. After a few minutes of staring, I couldn't hold back any longer and broke into a friendly smile, indicating that I didn't blame it for trying to scare me. It returned a smile.
That meant it had no intention of harming me. Once I understood its meaning, I slowly turned around. Even if it wanted to hurt me, there was nothing it could do. Generally, spirits only caused fear and affected one's Yang Qi, leading to various ailments; they had no other means. Of course, those slight touches and provocations couldn't cause any real harm.
I said, "I'm in this line of work; you should be able to tell." It replied, "Yes, I know." I continued, "Elder, why are you here causing trouble for people?" The old man paused for a moment before smiling and saying, "This is a long story. It's not convenient to talk here; let's find another place."
I agreed, "Sure, let's talk at my place; it's quieter there." He asked, "Do you want to return to Model Head's hair or use my vessel?" I suggested, "Let's use that fake head; this way you can explain things to their family."
I understood his meaning and said, "Alright, you go ahead first. I'll talk to them." The old man nodded with a smile and slowly faded from my sight. Once everything was back to normal, I turned on the light, tidied up my things, and knocked on the door of the inner room. "Master Zhu," I called out, "it's all settled."
When Master Zhu opened the door, he handed me an envelope containing my payment. I said, "You don't need to give me the full amount right now; just half will do. After half a month passes without any issues, you can transfer the rest to my card." Master Zhu smiled and replied, "No problem; I trust you. Take this for now. If anything else comes up later, I'll call you."
Since he was so straightforward about it, I didn't hesitate either. I took the envelope and told Master Zhu, "I need to take this Model Head with me."
Master Zhu didn't ask any questions and simply said it was fine to take it. With my mind occupied by my agreement with the old man, I didn't say much more and bid farewell to Master Zhu as I walked out the door. As I left, I heard the ending theme of that drama playing on their television inside—almost as if celebrating that their troublesome matter had been resolved.
What Master Zhu didn't know was that this matter was far from over. The White-Haired Elder had another story tied to him—one that ignited my fury. To resolve this issue, I even got into a fight and sustained some injuries.
The point is, this matter was entirely thankless.
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