At the end of July, it had just entered the “dog days” of summer — the hottest time of year.
After ten o’clock, the sun became scorching.
The farmers in Tuanjie Village also left the fields and headed home, done with the morning’s work, ready for lunch.
Zhang Xianyu carried a thermal food container, moving against the stream of people returning home, walking alone toward the back of the village.
That area was Tuanjie Village’s cemetery, where generations of ancestors from the village were buried.
It used to be covered in small earthen graves, but after cremation was promoted, it turned into rows of small cement towers holding the ashes of the deceased.
Zhang Xianyu’s master, Zhang Jianguo, was also buried there.
Zhang Jianguo was a Daoist priest — but not a formal one.
He had no official sect, knew no real spells, and didn’t believe in ghosts or gods.
Not to mention how Daoists these days were required to have a bachelor’s or even master’s degree; he didn’t even have a priest certificate.
Luckily, in small places like this, nobody checked.
He had learned a few ritual procedures from Zhang Xianyu’s grandmaster.
After the grandmaster passed, he inherited the small temple.
Whenever someone in the village died, they’d invite him to perform rites.
By relying on this work for Tuanjie Village and nearby villages, Zhang Jianguo managed to raise Zhang Xianyu to eighteen, and even helped him get into a good university.
“I’ve been admitted to Jiangcheng University, though not to the popular major you hoped. I got transferred to archaeology.”
Zhang Xianyu laid out the dishes from the thermal container one by one in front of the grave, then took out half a bottle of baijiu (white liquor) and poured two cups — one placed before the grave, one he sipped himself.
The strong liquor burned down his throat, all the way into his heart.
“I came today to say goodbye. I’m planning to go to Jiangcheng early to find a part-time job…”
Sitting cross-legged before the gravestone, Zhang Xianyu rambled on about his plans.
When the half bottle of baijiu was finished, the gravestone still stood there quietly, offering no response.
A bit disappointed, Zhang Xianyu muttered, “Not even coming to see me one last time — have you really reincarnated already?”
Zhang Jianguo had died in June.
He was a heavy smoker, at least three packs a day.
When young he could handle it, but as he got older, his body broke down.
In late May, a check-up revealed lung cancer — already in the late stages.
Before they could transfer him to a big hospital, he was beyond saving.
He himself took it lightly, cheerfully letting Zhang Xianyu bring him home, refusing to waste money in a hospital, saying he wouldn’t die until he saw the college entrance exam scores.
Later, when the scores came out, Zhang Xianyu exceeded Jiangcheng University’s admission line by more than twenty points.
True to his word, Zhang Jianguo smiled and passed away.
The funeral was organized by Zhang Xianyu himself.
Zhang Jianguo was an outsider who had settled in the village.
Besides Zhang Xianyu, he had no other relatives.
On the day of the funeral, the villagers spontaneously came to help, and it was held lively and warm.
Today happened to be the “fifth seven” day (a mourning ritual in which family members commemorate the deceased every seven days, up to seven times).
On the “first seven,” Zhang Jianguo’s soul hadn’t returned. “
Zhang Xianyu kept counting the days, hoping to see him by the “fifth seven.”
But even today, Zhang Jianguo never showed.
Zhang Xianyu sighed in disappointment, burned all the joss paper he had brought, and quietly murmured: “If you don’t miss me, so be it. But if you’re short on money, remember to give me a dream.”
When the last ember went out, Zhang Xianyu stood up, packed the dishes back into the thermal container, and carried them home.
After lunch, he cleaned up the shabby little temple.
Once the main door and wooden fence were locked up tight, Zhang Xianyu dragged his suitcase and slowly walked toward the village entrance.
Tuanjie Village was a small village under Chucheng County.
It was remote and poor.
Few roads had been built over the years, so transportation was very inconvenient.
He’d have to walk an hour to reach the main road, then take a coach to the county bus station to catch a ride.
This road he was long accustomed to.
Taking one last look at the quiet village, Zhang Xianyu strode off.
“Wait a sec!”
The village head, carrying a small bag, hurried up to stop him.
“Village head?”
Zhang Xianyu turned in surprise, looking at the panting old man.
The village head wiped sweat from his face, sighed, and pulled out a stack of cash from the small bag, stuffing it into Zhang Xianyu’s hands, complaining: “You kid, leaving without even saying goodbye. This is just a little something we all scraped together. Not much, but it’s our token. Take it.”
The money wasn’t in neat bills — there were hundreds, fifties, and quite a few tens, messily adding up to probably several thousand.
“I can’t take this.”
Zhang Xianyu pressed his lips together and tried to push it back.
This money was surely pooled from every household.
Tuanjie Village wasn’t well-off; even in this day and age, few families even had computers.
A few hundred per family didn’t seem like much, but normally, they even carefully calculated whether to buy their own kids snacks.
It hadn’t been easy to scrape this together.
Zhang Xianyu was deeply grateful, but couldn’t really take such hard-earned money.
“Master saved up quite a bit for me over the years. I have enough for tuition and living expenses. Please take this back — I’ll remember your kindness in my heart.”
The village head tried to say more, but Zhang Xianyu’s firm attitude left no room.
Finally, he could only stuff the money back into the small bag, grasp Zhang Xianyu’s hand tightly, and urged: “Then you take care out there on your own. If you run into trouble, come back. We’ll find a way to help.”
“Alright, I know.”
Zhang Xianyu smiled, picked up his suitcase again, and under the village head’s watchful gaze, walked off into the distance.
After leaving the village, Zhang Xianyu waited by the roadside for a bus and headed to the county bus station.
The county’s situation wasn’t great either.
Just a few years ago, it was still classified as a poverty-stricken county.
Although in recent years there had been rapid economic development, lifting it out of that official status, in reality, it wasn’t much wealthier.
The county only had a bus station — no trains.
Zhang Xianyu spent eighty yuan on a long-distance bus ticket, waited another half hour, and finally boarded a coach to Jiangcheng.
The bus was packed, but the air conditioning was insufficient.
The auntie sitting next to Zhang Xianyu complained twice to the driver, saw it had no effect, then pulled a fan out of her little shoulder bag and began fanning herself, muttering complaints, sometimes cursing in dialect.
Zhang Xianyu tried to ignore her complaints, gazing out at the scenery speeding by.
“Are you going out to work?”
The auntie pulled a pear from her bag, took a crisp bite, and asked Zhang Xianyu as she ate.
Zhang Xianyu paused before realizing she was talking to him.
He replied,
“I’m going to Jiangcheng for school.”
“Starting school this early?”
The auntie looked at his fair, delicate face that still carried a youthful student air and asked doubtfully,
“Isn’t it September when classes start?”
“I’m taking advantage of the summer break to find something to do in Jiangcheng.”
“Ah, I see.”
Her gaze landed on his washed-faded black T-shirt, and she seemed to understand.
In just a few bites, she finished her pear, wiped her hands, then took two fresh pears from her bag and stuffed them into Zhang Xianyu’s arms.
“It’s hot, take these and eat.”
Before he could refuse, she’d already started nagging again.
She talked about how low salaries were in Jiangcheng, how bad working conditions were, how local people weren’t always nice…
It sounded like complaining, but now and then she’d slip in reminders — telling Zhang Xianyu to keep his bag close because there were many pickpockets and scammers in Jiangcheng, warning him, a young kid heading out alone, to be careful not to be tricked.
Her voice was loud, but Zhang Xianyu didn’t mind it.
This kind of long-missed nagging reminded him of when Zhang Jianguo was still alive — he too had been a fussy old man who loved to nag.
The coach drove for more than four hours.
Around 5 p.m., it finally arrived at the Jiangcheng bus terminal.
The passengers crowded off the bus.
Zhang Xianyu, pulling his suitcase, was one of the last to get off.
The auntie from before was still waiting in front of the bus.
When she saw him, she came up and shoved a slip of paper with a phone number into his hand.
“My husband and I run a noodle shop near the station. You’re just a young kid traveling alone. If you ever run into trouble, come find us. Can’t promise much else, but at least we can give you a place to stay.”
With that, she carried her bag and walked out of the station.
Zhang Xianyu held the thin slip of paper, watching her slightly plump figure grow smaller in the distance.
In the end, he chased after her, tapped her on the shoulder, and pulled off a small lump of black shadow that had been clinging there.
“What is it?”
The auntie only felt a sudden chill on her shoulder.
She turned, confused, to look at Zhang Xianyu.
Zhang Xianyu hid the hand gripping the shadow behind his back and smiled.
“Nothing. Just wanted to say thank you.”
“No need for that. We’re fellow villagers. Helping if we can is only right.”
She waved it off.
She had always been warm-hearted, and besides, the young student in front of her looked so gentle and refined.
“I still ought to say it.
Seeing the dark aura clouding her forehead, Zhang Xianyu hesitated with his other hand in his pocket.
After a moment, he pulled out a protective talisman.
“This is a peace charm my grandfather made. He was a Daoist priest. I don’t have anything valuable on me. If you don’t mind, keep this — it can ward off disaster.”
The auntie froze, looking a little hesitant.
But seeing his sincere expression, and that he wasn’t asking her for money, she figured he probably wasn’t a scammer.
In the end, she reached out and accepted it.
“Alright, I’ll wear it. You hurry and find somewhere to stay.”
Only after seeing her put the charm safely in her pocket did Zhang Xianyu turn and leave.
Finding a secluded spot, the smile on his face faded.
He looked coldly at the black shadow still struggling in his hand and threatened in a low voice,
“Move again and I’ll destroy you right here.”
The shadow froze.
Zhang Xianyu gave a satisfied nod, then took a bright yellow talisman paper from the small outer pocket of his suitcase and waved it.
“Will you go reincarnate yourself, or should I send you there directly?”
The shadow trembled, trying to edge away from the talisman, shivering as it pleaded,
“I—I haven’t hurt anyone yet…”
Zhang Xianyu glanced at the sky.
It was getting late.
He didn’t have the patience to argue with the little ghost.
His expression remained cold, lips twitching slightly in a mock smile.
“You think if you’d already harmed someone, you’d still be here bargaining with me?”
The shadow was so frightened by his chilling smile that it nearly wet itself, and stammered out tearfully,
“I—I’ll go myself…uuh…”
Zhang Xianyu put the talisman away.
The little ghost sobbed in grievance, its dark form gradually fading until it finally disappeared into the air.
With the ghost dealt with, Zhang Xianyu put the talisman back, picked up his bag, and prepared to find a hotel nearby for the night.
But as soon as he turned, he felt an unusually intense stare.
He glanced sideways and saw a security guard by the station watching him warily, eyes darting occasionally to the corner where he’d just stood, afraid he might be up to something suspicious.
Zhang Xianyu gave the guard an awkward smile, then quickly walked off.
Across from the Jiangcheng bus terminal, there was a Xiangyang beef noodle shop.
It was around 5 or 6 p.m., prime dinner hour, and the shop was busy, full of white-collar workers just off work.
Two young girls in aprons carried trays back and forth serving food.
One of them, sharp-eyed, spotted the auntie from afar with her bag, and called into the kitchen,
“Uncle, auntie’s back!”
The auntie who had spoken to Zhang Xianyu on the bus was actually the owner of this little noodle shop.
She had just gotten back and hadn’t even rested yet before tying on her apron and jumping in to help.
The noodle shop was run by just four people, including the owner couple.
When it got busy, the auntie also had to help serve customers.
They were all used to the pace. In the small space, they weaved around each other delivering food.
Before long, the auntie was sweating buckets.
She poured a glass of cool water and stood under the fan.
There was no air conditioning in the shop, only an old ceiling fan whirring overhead on full speed.
Its blades were caked with dust, creaking like it might fall at any moment.
After finishing her drink and barely catching her breath, the auntie was called into the back to help again.
The husband and wife hadn’t seen each other for days, but barely had time for a few words.
The auntie tied up the garbage in the plastic bin, carried it out the side door to toss across the street.
The noodle shop’s side door faced a small intersection.
The cracked cement road had no traffic lights, and usually few cars passed by.
The auntie struggled under the heavy trash bag, crossing to the other side.
“Woof woof!”
A dirty stray dog suddenly jumped up, biting a beef bone that was sticking out from the bottom of the bag.
“Get away!”
The auntie was only halfway across the street and had to turn to shoo the dog.
The dog kept growling, gripping the bone tighter, its throat rumbling with low menace.
Looking around and finding no stones, the auntie didn’t dare kick it, just cursed under her breath and kept dragging the trash bag forward.
The stray, thinking she was trying to steal its bone, bit down even harder and pulled back.
“You damn mutt!”
The auntie finally lost patience, turned, and raised her foot to kick — but just then, from the curve on the left, a small truck came speeding around the corner—
The small truck was going very fast.
Because of the blind curve, the driver didn’t see the person and dog in the middle of the road until it was too late to brake.
The air filled with the screech of tires, but the truck’s momentum still carried it forward several meters, hitting the shop owner’s wife along with the full bag of garbage and sending them flying.
The stray dog let out a sharp yelp, clamped its tail between its legs, and bolted away with the bone still in its mouth.
The shop owner’s wife was thrown more than a meter away.
She cried out in pain, pushed aside the vegetable leaves and garbage on her, and sat up, immediately launching into a powerful tirade, pointing at the truck driver and cursing.
The driver, who’d been scared senseless, finally snapped out of it.
He hurriedly opened the door and stumbled out to help her up.
The horrific accident everyone might have imagined didn’t happen.
The shop owner’s wife had only scraped a bit of skin off her elbow.
Though she kept cursing at the driver, she had no intention of asking him for compensation.
Instead, it was the driver who was terrified, insisting on taking her to the hospital for a check-up.
The owner’s wife brushed the dirt off her body and said hoarsely,
“What hospital? I’m perfectly fine.”
She patted herself down — then suddenly felt a spot of warmth.
She froze, seeming to remember something.
She reached into her pocket but didn’t find the protective charm she’d casually placed there earlier.
Instead, there was only a bit of warm ash on her fingertips.
She stared blankly at the ash for a while, until her husband, who had come running over after hearing the commotion, called out to her.
Then she excitedly showed him her ash-streaked fingers.
“I met a living immortal today!”
Beaming with joy, she told her husband everything that had happened at the bus station, and how she had left her phone number.
Then she slapped her thigh in regret.
“If I’d known, I would have asked for his phone number too!”
Meanwhile, Zhang Xianyu knew nothing about what had just happened.
He normally wasn’t one to meddle in other people’s business.
This time he had stepped in only because the auntie had a good heart and had reminded him of Zhang Jianguo.
Though Zhang Jianguo was a Daoist priest, he had never believed in ghosts or gods.
What he told Zhang Xianyu most often was:
“There’s no future in being a Daoist priest. Study hard, get into a good university, find a good job — that’s the only way you’ll get a wife.”
Unfortunately for Zhang Jianguo, Zhang Xianyu seemed to have a shocking talent for Daoist arts.
The things Zhang Jianguo himself had never managed to learn, Zhang Xianyu picked up just by reading the books and notes left by his grandmaster.
Zhang Xianyu had originally even planned to scare Zhang Jianguo a bit when his spirit returned on the seventh night.
But sadly, Zhang Jianguo’s soul never came back — even by the time Zhang Xianyu left Tuanjie Village.
Following directions on his phone, Zhang Xianyu took a bus to the area near Jiangcheng University, then found a budget hotel to stay in for the night.
It was already late, and there were no other guests in the hotel lobby.
Zhang Xianyu walked in and found that even the front desk was empty.
He looked around in puzzlement and finally spotted people over in the lounge area on the right.
Several young women in hotel uniforms were clustered around a slightly chubby man in a fine suit, speaking to him.
The man lounged on a sofa; his small eyes were squeezed into slits by the fat around them, roaming up and down the bodies of the staff.
Zhang Xianyu faintly heard them calling him “Young President Li.”
Probably the hotel owner or some rich guy, Zhang Xianyu thought, but only for a moment before turning his mind back to finding a place to sleep.
“Hello, I’d like a room,” he called out abruptly, spoiling the mood.
Everyone in the lounge turned to look at him.
Zhang Xianyu remained calm, his gaze lightly falling on the chubby man.
“Just a moment,” said a tall, well-made-up staff member — probably the receptionist.
She didn’t look too pleased at being interrupted, but she turned back to the man on the sofa with a bright smile,
“Young President Li, I’ll be right back.”
Li waved her off, continuing to leer at the other employees.
Having had her fun interrupted, the receptionist’s attitude toward Zhang Xianyu was rather poor, her tone sharp.
“ID card. What kind of room?”
“A queen bed room. Is there a discount for staying three nights?”
Zhang Xianyu handed her his ID.
“Three hundred sixty in total.”
She finished registering, gave his ID back, and didn’t answer his question.
Her eyes flicked to his faded black T-shirt with obvious disdain.
The room rate was listed as 130 yuan a night.
Zhang Xianyu did the math — they’d only given him a thirty yuan discount.
He slowly pulled out his bank card to pay.
After completing the check-in and handing him the room card, the receptionist hurried back to the lounge.
Standing behind them, Zhang Xianyu could see that the man on the sofa — whose face was covered with fine hair, a slender tail flicking behind him — was not a good person at all.
So he kindly warned,
“He’s not a good man.”
The receptionist spun around and rolled her eyes at him, then eagerly squeezed back to Young President Li’s side.
Zhang Xianyu shook his head, took his room card, and headed upstairs.