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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 8: Wish
"Auntie, you will definitely fulfill your wish, so don't worry." This thought lingered in my mind, the persistent question being about the mysterious Evil Sorcerer. This Evil Sorcerer had been to the hospital and had a confrontation with me; I knew he was raising ghosts.
Generally, those who raise ghosts do not end well. Many ghost-raisers, whether they are powerful Evil Sorcerers or ordinary people using ghosts to defy natural laws, suffer varying degrees of backlash from the ghosts.
I believe that this person, who appears to be extraordinary in the eyes of ordinary people, has become weak due to raising ghosts. From our encounter at the hospital, it seemed he had not yet suffered from ghostly backlash; otherwise, he wouldn't have been so relaxed.
Typically, a ghost's behavior is influenced by how its master feeds it. If the offerings consist of blood and flesh, the backlash can be even worse. Years ago, I heard my grandfather recount a story about someone similar to a fat man who suffered backlash from raising ghosts—no deity could save him.
At that time, my grandfather was present and could only watch helplessly as the once healthy fat man transformed into a bloodied figure due to the ghost's retaliation.
To this day, I remember that incident vividly. My grandfather was having tea with a few old friends at a place called Mingxuan Tea House when the fat man arrived later. A thick fog enveloped the area when he came in; his hair was damp, but my grandfather noticed his eyes were bloodshot, as if filled with rage.
It seemed he had come seeking help after being attacked by a ghost. The white mist around him turned crimson as he appeared and suddenly knelt down.
The others at the table were oblivious to what was happening; they exchanged glances while my grandfather shook his head and sighed. "I never expected you would raise ghosts. What kind of righteous person are you?" The others were equally horrified. According to my grandfather, the fat man looked visibly regretful and terrified, constantly glancing back. Just as his panic lasted a moment, the red light in his eyes intensified, and he suddenly ran outside as if driven mad.
Everyone followed him out and saw that at some point, he had grabbed a knife. My grandfather tried to use spells to stop the ghost from attacking its master, but it was futile. The fat man waved the knife with an eerie smile and suddenly raised it high, laughing maniacally as he slashed deeply into his own arm. Blood gushed out like a fountain, staining the mist around him red.
My grandfather attempted to save him using thunder strikes and exorcism techniques; however, not only did he fail to rescue the fat man, but he also provoked the ghost's murderous instincts. The fat man fell to his knees, screaming in a voice that sent chills down everyone's spine; his expression was grotesque—this was the true face of the ghost within him. In a frenzy, he continued to slash at his wrist repeatedly, blood spraying everywhere without restraint.
My grandfather unleashed his ultimate technique, transforming formless energy into tangible force. He performed Bagua steps and pushed outward with his palms to create a swirling wind of darkness. Then he took out a Dao Bottle to collect the fat man's blood. However, the mist grew thicker and more oppressive; it engulfed the fat man like an insatiable beast. The dark wind lost its power as blood splattered everywhere, turning the ground into a gruesome scene reminiscent of slaughtering pigs.
The people present exchanged glances, some choosing to flee, leaving only the grandfather behind. He witnessed the two-hundred-pound man being torn apart as if by a beast with sharp teeth. There was not a single good spot on his face, neck, shoulders, or the hairy expanse of his chest. His clothes were ripped, stained with blood from where large chunks of flesh had been violently torn away.
Enduring such torment, death seemed a more merciful option. The key was knowing that he was being retaliated against by a ghost, yet feeling utterly helpless. The fat man frantically clawed at his head, but until the end, he grasped nothing… Ultimately, it was the grandfather who gathered what little remained of his skin and flesh, reciting prayers to help his unwilling spirit find peace. The ghost had avenged its master, fulfilling its wish. The grandfather used a Dao Bottle to capture the ghost and tirelessly chanted scriptures day and night to soothe its wrath before finally giving it a proper burial.
Generally, ghosts do not have the opportunity to reincarnate, especially those who have committed wrongdoings under their master's control. If they lose their master's support, they are destined to wander aimlessly in the three realms until they perish. However, there are exceptions where some are able to be purified and sent to the Eighteen Layers of Hell to suffer.
I had never shared this story with Zhu Dachang or anyone else; it felt too bloody and too sinister. It was only when I encountered an Evil Sorcerer who raised ghosts that I inadvertently recalled this incident. I silently pondered for a moment before finally asking Li Luwen's Mother, "Auntie, do you remember his name or where he was from?"
Li Luwen's Mother furrowed her brows. "I'm not from around here; I only heard about this remarkable gentleman through word of mouth. His surname seems to be Gao, and his name is Gao Sheng. He was once an educated man who read extensively, but something happened that caused him to return home in a daze. His family arranged for him to marry someone soon after; however, that woman discovered something was off with him and returned to her family without coming back. Gao Sheng searched everywhere for her and ended up throwing their child into the water out of desperation. The child died, and he became completely mad afterward. Some say he is a reincarnation of a deity; others came looking for him. I only heard these stories; it was you who saved Wenwen."
"Gao Sheng—having a name makes things easier. But from what Auntie said, it seems he changed along the way; there must be someone powerful behind him guiding him; otherwise, who would enlighten him?"
"I'm not too sure about that."
After that, we walked in silence, only my footsteps echoing as we moved slowly until we finally reached A City People's Hospital.
From afar, I spotted Qin Jian with Chi Xinrong and Zhang Xian waiting at the hospital entrance. As I approached them, they looked pleased to see me. "You look like a beggar—so dirty! Where on earth have you been to end up in such a state?"
"I..." The old woman beside me looked around, greeting everyone present; unfortunately, no one acknowledged her existence. Chi Xinrong shivered slightly and muttered, "Ma Qi, you brought a chill with you; it suddenly feels so cold."
Qin Jian rubbed his neck and casually glanced back but furrowed his brow without voicing any questions.
Zhang Xian's face was filled with tension as he instinctively moved closer to me as if afraid of something. Li Luwen's Mother greeted people but ignored her; she shouldn't have felt cold at all.
"Auntie, you go check on Wenwen. I still have something to say to them."
Qin Jian and Chi Xinrong stared wide-eyed in surprise, and I signaled them not to be nervous. Zhang Xian jumped up in fright, moving even closer to me. If it weren't for the presence of others, she would have undoubtedly grabbed my arm in desperation for protection.
Auntie sighed, "You are all busy people. I feel a bit out of place as this old woman from the countryside. Alright, I'll go check on Wenwen."
Li Luwen's Mother wouldn't harm her own daughter, so I temporarily sent her away and then quickly turned to Qin Jian and the others. "Li Luwen's Mother has had her soul taken away and has just returned. She still doesn't know she's dead. What do you think we should do?"
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