Chapter Eighteen: The Child

Uncle Wang spoke with resounding conviction, showing not a hint of fear. Yet, the hospital had refused to treat his son, stating the condition was incurable—what else could he do?

Just then, his wife suggested, "Why don't we go to the Qingfeng Temple on the mountain and ask Daoist Zhang to take a look? Our son's illness is strange and peculiar; I’ve been wondering if he might have been entangled by something unclean."

Uncle Wang’s spirit instantly lifted. "Wife, what you say makes sense. So many doctors have been helpless regarding our son's condition; this illness is certainly extraordinary."

The couple decided on the spot. Without delay, they bundled up their son, climbed onto their motorized tricycle, and headed toward Qingfeng Temple. Upon arriving, however, they discovered that Daoist Zhang was away, performing funeral rites for someone else.

Their hearts sank to the bottom. "Wife, is our son truly destined to perish here? He is only ten years old! This... I cannot accept this result."

Uncle Wang suffered from a low sperm count; it had taken five or six years of marriage to conceive this child, who had become the apple of the entire family's eye. To say they cherished him would be an understatement—they feared he would melt if held in their mouths or shatter if cradled in their hands.

The thirty-something-year-old man knelt at the entrance of the temple, weeping bitterly, his face covered in tears and snot. Who could understand the agony and reluctance in his heart at that moment? "Husband, don't be like this. Perhaps this is fate. Our destiny is what it is, and there is no point in blaming heaven or others. This is our child's fate; even if we cannot accept it, we must bear it with tears."

Uncle Wang understood his wife’s words, but he was unwilling to give up. "It hurts, it hurts so much! Dad, Mom, it hurts!"

The boy cried out in his father’s arms, each plea piercing the hearts of his parents like thousands of needles. A child is always the flesh and blood of their parents, and considering Uncle Wang’s condition, if his son were to pass away, he would likely never have another child. How could they possibly bear such a price?

Just as the couple fell into despair, a voice rang out: "What are you doing? My master may not be home, but isn't there still me?"

Zhang Xiaorui was only about fifteen or sixteen at the time. Uncle Wang looked at her, his eyes wide. "Xiaorui, don't talk nonsense. What could a little girl like you possibly do?"

Zhang Xiaorui looked displeased. "I have followed my master in practicing the Dao since I was a child. Everything my master knows, I know, and things he doesn't know, I know too."

Her words were undeniably arrogant, but she had the qualifications to be so. In terms of Daoist practice, even Daoist Zhang had to admire his precious apprentice. Whether it was Feng Shui, ghost-catching, talisman-drawing, or physical arts, she only needed to be taught once. It was as if she were born for the path, capable of mastering everything with ease. By the time she was thirteen, she had learned every skill Daoist Zhang possessed, leaving him with nothing left to teach. Even more impressively, she had explored and created many strange and wondrous spiritual talismans, including teleportation charms, health charms, and various others.

Perhaps Uncle Wang was truly desperate, grasping at straws. Regardless of her age or whether she could actually save his son, he fell to his knees with a thud. "Xiaorui, Xiaorui, Uncle begs you, please save my son! My son is about to die."

His wife knelt beside him, kowtowing repeatedly. Zhang Xiaorui quickly urged them to stand. "Uncle Wang, Auntie, what are you doing? Get up and let me see what is wrong with your child."

Uncle Wang stood and explained the situation. After listening, Zhang Xiaorui already had a clear idea. "Uncle, this isn't an illness. Your child has been possessed by Yin energy. In common terms, he saw something he shouldn't have."

Uncle Wang didn't fully understand, but he grasped the part about being possessed. Everyone knew that children often possessed 'Yin-Yang eyes' and could see things adults could not. "Xiaorui, what should we do? Can you save him?"

Zhang Xiaorui waved her small hand with the air of a boss. "Small matter. But, you know, Uncle, cinnabar and yellow paper have been hard to come by lately, and the price is quite high. Your child's case is treatable, but... you know how it is."

Auntie was the first to react. As long as her son could be saved, everything else was trivial. "Xiaorui, just tell us how much it costs. My only requirement is that our son gets better."

Hearing this, Zhang Xiaorui felt much better. She thought for a long moment, then held up two fingers. "It cannot be less than 200 yuan. I won't lift a finger for a penny less."

Uncle Wang: "..."
Auntie: "..."

Good heavens, they had wondered how much the girl would ask for! A mere two hundred yuan—to put it bluntly, that wasn't even enough for their travel expenses to the big cities. Had they known 200 yuan could solve their son's condition, why would they have suffered for so long? They had spent far more than that, yet the boy’s illness had never shown any sign of improvement.

"If you can save my son," the wife said, "I'll give you two thousand. How about that?"

Zhang Xiaorui’s eyes curved into crescents as she beamed. "Deal! This is on me. I’ll make sure to return a lively, healthy boy to you."

She pulled a talisman from her pocket, fetched a bowl of water, and watched as the paper spontaneously ignited in her hand. She dropped the burning talisman into the bowl, stirred it while muttering something the couple couldn't understand, and then said, "Pry your son’s mouth open and have him drink this. He will be fine."

The couple exchanged glances, feeling skeptical. Could this really cure their son? Zhang Xiaorui smiled at them, revealing two adorable dimples. "If you don't believe me, then just watch your child die. Or, hurry up and have him drink the water."

No longer hesitating, they pried the boy's mouth open and poured the water in. Afterward, Zhang Xiaorui clapped her hands. "Done. Take him home, let him sleep in his bed, and he'll be fine. Just make sure to place a basin in his room."

"Is that really all it takes?" the wife asked.

"Yup, that's it." The couple left. In the middle of the night, the boy suddenly sat up in bed, ready to vomit.