"Nine-Stroke Talisman"

Chapter 4: Xiao Man

Shen Moyan sat down at the base of the wall.

Xiao Man stood beside him, his small shadow stretched long by the streetlight. The alley was quiet, broken only by distant cats yowling.

"Where's your mom?" Shen Moyan asked.

"I don't know." Xiao Man said. "When I woke up, I was here. I want to go home, but I don't know the way. I only remember there was a locust tree in front of our house, and a bird's nest in it."

"How long have you been here?"

Xiao Man thought. "A long time. I counted the sun, thirty times."

Thirty days.

Shen Moyan looked at this kid—old padded jacket, dirty face, milky eyes. Thirty days, standing here in this alley every day, waiting for someone who could see him.

"Has anyone seen you in those thirty days?"

"No." Xiao Man shook his head. "Lots of people walked by. But none of them could see me. Only you, uncle. When you walked over just now, you looked at me."

Shen Moyan remembered glancing this way. Not that he'd seen anything—it was that instinct you get walking dark roads, that feeling something's in the shadows.

"That was the Heavenly Eye stirring," Zhu Quan said. "You haven't mastered it yet, sometimes it scans on its own. It swept over him, and he knew you could see him."

"Can I help him?"

"Yeah. Find his mom, let him see her one last time, then send him on. Simplest kind of good deed. Builds hidden virtue."

"How do I find her?"

"Ask his address."

Shen Moyan turned back to Xiao Man: "Where do you live?"

Xiao Man tilted his head, thinking hard. "Chenghuang Temple Back Street, Locust Tree Lane, Number Three."

Shen Moyan froze.

He was on Chenghuang Temple Back Street right now. There was indeed a side alley off it called Locust Tree Lane. And there was indeed an old locust tree in that lane.

"Your home is Number Three, Locust Tree Lane?"

Xiao Man nodded.

Shen Moyan stood and walked deeper into the alley. After fifty meters, he found the side lane—Locust Tree Lane, the sign nailed to the wall, thick with rust. Narrow lane, old single-story houses on both sides, clutter**** around the doorways. In the middle, a massive old locust tree blocked half the sky.

He stood under it and looked up. Bare branches. Nothing.

"The bird's nest?"

"Gone." Xiao Man's voice came from behind. "It was there before I died."

Shen Moyan turned. Xiao Man stood at the lane's entrance. He hadn't followed.

"Why don't you come in?"

"I can't." Xiao Man said. "I can only get to the entrance. If I try to go further, something pushes me back."

"Pushes you back?"

Xiao Man shook his head.

Shen Moyan kept going. Number Three was the last house. Flowerpots out front, planted with scallions. Old wooden door, paint peeling to show grey wood underneath. A faded 'Fu' character on the doorframe, a string of dried wormwood hanging beside it.

He knocked.

No answer.

He knocked again. Still nothing.

"No one's home." He walked back to the lane entrance. Xiao Man still stood there. "Your mom might be out. Or..."

He didn't finish. Or she might be long gone.

Xiao Man looked down, twisting his small hands together.

Shen Moyan looked at him, and something in his chest clenched. He remembered being a kid once, getting lost in a mall. It took him half an hour to find his mom. That half hour, he'd stood just like this, hands twisted together, afraid to move, afraid his mom wouldn't find him if he left that spot.

"Wait here," he said. "I'll come back tomorrow during the day. During the day, I can find someone to ask."

Xiao Man looked up. "Really?"

"Really."

A faint smile crossed Xiao Man's face.

Shen Moyan turned and walked back. After a few steps, he looked over his shoulder—the lane entrance was empty. Xiao Man was gone.

He stood under the streetlight, suddenly exhausted. Not physically—mentally. Like someone had stuffed cotton in his chest, clogging everything up.

"First time's always like this," Zhu Quan said. "You'll get used to it."

"I don't want to get used to it."

Zhu Quan was quiet a moment. "Then you're in the wrong line of work. People in this trade either get used to it or go crazy."

Next morning, Shen Moyan took half the day off and went back to Locust Tree Lane.

This time someone was there. An old woman sat in the sun at her doorway, an orange tabby dozing beside her.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Shen Moyan asked. "Who lives at Number Three?"

The old woman squinted at him. "Number Three? Auntie Li's place. What do you want with her?"

"I'm..." Shen Moyan thought fast. "A former classmate of her son. Haven't seen him in a while, thought I'd visit."

The old woman's expression changed. She looked at him with something unreadable in her eyes.

"Auntie Li's son," she said slowly, "died thirty years ago."

Shen Moyan's heart sank.

"How?"

"Got lost." The old woman sighed. "He was five that year. Playing near Chenghuang Temple, and then... disappeared. Auntie Li searched for a month. Never found him. Later someone said they saw him fall into a well—the one behind Chenghuang Temple, the one they filled in years ago. Auntie Li went crazy, had people dredge it. Three days they dredged, and finally... ai."

Shen Moyan stood there, mind blank for a moment.

"What happened after?"

"After that, Auntie Li lived alone. Her husband died young, she only had that son. When he was gone, she just sat at the door every day waiting, saying her son would come back. Waited thirty years. Last year, she passed."

"Passed?"

"Died. Winter. Froze to death—she insisted on waiting at the door, fell asleep waiting. By the time they found her, she was already gone."

Shen Moyan looked at the door of Number Three, deep in the lane. Long silence.

The orange cat rubbed against his leg and meowed.

"So Number Three now..."

"No one lives there. Son gone, her gone, house empty. Heard she has some distant relative somewhere, but they've never come."

Shen Moyan thanked the old woman and walked back toward the lane entrance.

He stopped under the locust tree.

Xiao Man stood beneath it, looking up at the bare branches.

"The bird's nest is gone," he said.

Shen Moyan stood behind him, looking at that small figure, his throat tight.

"Xiao Man," he started, voice rough, "your mom..."

"I know." Xiao Man didn't turn. "She's dead."

"How do you know?"

"I saw. That night, she was sitting at the door and fell asleep. I went to call her, couldn't wake her up. I tried to push her, but my hand couldn't touch her."

Shen Moyan closed his eyes.

"She was waiting for me, wasn't she?"

"Yes."

Finally Xiao Man turned. In those milky-grey eyes, no tears, but something was breaking.

"Uncle, should I not have waited?"

Shen Moyan crouched down, eye to eye with this kid who'd been dead thirty years.

"No," he said. "You were right to wait. She was right to wait. You did meet."

Xiao Man looked at him, not understanding.

"You saw her, right? The last thing she saw before she fell asleep was the direction she was waiting. She saw you."

"Really?"

"Really."

Xiao Man looked down. After a moment, he looked up, that faint smile back.

"Uncle, I think I want to go now."

"Okay."

Shen Moyan stood. He raised his hand and drew the charm in the air—the Soul-Guiding Charm. This time it worked on the first try. The nine-stroke head hung in the air, glowing faint gold.

"This charm will guide you," he said. "You'll see a path. Follow it, you'll find your mom."

Xiao Man nodded. He walked toward the charm, his small figure wrapped in golden light.

Just before reaching it, he turned back. "Uncle, what's your name?"

"Shen Moyan."

"Uncle Shen, thank you." Xiao Man smiled, bigger this time, showing two missing front teeth. "When I find my mom, I'll tell her to thank you too."

The golden light faded.

The lane was empty, only Shen Moyan standing alone under the locust tree.

He looked at his hands. Fingertips a little black again, but just a little—like they'd been dipped in ink.

"Hidden virtue," Zhu Quan said. "You've got one unit now. The ninth stroke of your charm head will fade a bit."

Shen Moyan didn't answer. He stood under the locust tree, looking up at the sky. Winter sun filtered through bare branches, fell on his face, warm.

At the lane entrance, the old woman still sat in the sun, the orange cat dozing at her feet.

Shen Moyan walked over and said to her, "Ma'am, I'd like to buy that house at Number Three."

The old woman squinted at him. "Why would you buy that?"

Shen Moyan thought for a moment. "To plant a locust tree."