"Nine-Stroke Talisman"

Chapter 8: The Second Voice

On the morning of the eighth day, Zhang Shouyi came looking for him again.

"There's a job," Zhang Shouyi said. "A family in the western part of the city claims their house is haunted. You're coming with me."

Shen Moyan gathered his things and followed him out.

The western district was an old part of town, with alleys even narrower than those near Chenghuang Temple. They stopped at a house. The door was open, and crying came from inside.

Zhang Shouyi knocked. A middle-aged man came out, his eyes rimmed with red. "Daoist, you've come? Please, come in."

The house was a mess. In the main room, a table was set up with a portrait—an old woman, seventy or eighty, smiling kindly.

"My mother," the man said. "She's been gone for two weeks. But for the past couple of nights, she comes back every night."

"Comes back how?"

"I hear her walking. I'd recognize her footsteps anywhere. Step by step, from the kitchen to the main room, from the main room to the bedroom. I even hear her coughing, exactly like when she was alive."

Zhang Shouyi glanced at Shen Moyan. "Feel it."

Shen Moyan closed his eyes and used the method Zhu Quan taught him—not seeing with his eyes, but feeling with his body. The warm current surged from within, spreading outward.

He felt it.

By the kitchen door, an old woman stood.

"She's by the kitchen door," Shen Moyan said.

The man's face paled. "She... what is she doing there?"

"Watching you," Shen Moyan said. "She's watching you."

Zhang Shouyi walked towards the kitchen door and spoke to the empty space. "Old ma'am, your son is here. Is there something you want to say?"

The room was quiet for a moment. Then, Shen Moyan heard a voice—very soft, very old, like wind rustling leaves:

"He's all alone... I'm worried..."

The man didn't hear it. He stood there, watching Zhang Shouyi talk to the air, tears streaming down his face.

"Mom," he said, "is that you?"

Zhang Shouyi turned to Shen Moyan. "Ask him if there's any unfinished business."

Shen Moyan addressed the direction, speaking: "Old ma'am, is there anything unfinished?"

The voice sounded again: "He... can't cook... Since I've been gone... he eats instant noodles every day..."

Shen Moyan paused.

He turned to the man. "You eat instant noodles every day?"

The man nodded. "Since Mom passed, I don't know how to cook..."

Shen Moyan spoke to the direction again: "Old ma'am, your son needs to learn to cook. Teach him."

The man was bewildered. "Teach me what?"

"Your mother," Shen Moyan pointed towards the kitchen door. "She's right there. She wants to teach you to cook."

For the next hour, the man fumbled about in the kitchen, sweating profusely. He chopped vegetables, stir-fried, cooked rice. Every step was guided by someone—though he couldn't hear it himself, Shen Moyan could.

"Too much salt.""Fire's too high.""Flip it, it's about to burn."

The man was flustered, sweating. But in the end, he produced a plate of scrambled eggs with tomatoes and a bowl of rice.

He carried the food to the main room and placed it before the portrait.

"Mom," he said, "I've learned. You can go in peace now."

Shen Moyan saw the figure by the kitchen door slowly fade.

Just before leaving, the voice sounded again, very, very soft:

"Thank you... little Daoist..."

Shen Moyan stood at the door, watching the figure disappear into the sunlight.

On the way back, Zhang Shouyi asked him, "How did it feel?"

Shen Moyan thought for a moment. "She just wanted to teach her son how to cook."

"Exactly." Zhang Shouyi nodded. "Most ghosts aren't there to harm people. They just have unfinished business. Once it's finished, they leave."

He glanced at Shen Moyan. "You did well today. Could hear, could convey, could resolve. You're initiated."

Shen Moyan said nothing.

He looked down at his hands. The tips were a little darker again, but this time not the charred black, but a light shade, like ink stains.

"Two units of hidden virtue accumulated," Zhu Quan said. "At this rate, you'll soon repay part of the debt for the first karmic obstacle."

"The first obstacle is you?"

"Yes. But repaying Sun Shi's debt isn't repaying what you owe me. Sun Shi is my own debt; you have to repay that separately. What I owe you is something else."

"What?"

"You'll know when the time comes."