Chapter 8Divining a Ghost’s Fate
691 Words
After unlocking the door, Wang Junhui chanted another low incantation beside me before allowing me to push it open.
“What was that chant?” I asked.
“A Soul-Calming Incantation,” he explained. “To prevent disturbing the ghost inside.”
As I reached for the light switch, Wang Junhui stopped me. “No lights. Low-tier ghosts fear bright light. A candle will suffice.”
“But how can I read its face or sense its vital energy in the dark?” I protested.
Before he could answer, the door creaked shut behind us. I nearly yelped—until I realized Wang Junhui had closed it.
“Why shut the door? Now it’s pitch black!” I muttered.
“Ghosts tolerate candlelight,” he said, rummaging through his briefcase. A lighter flickered, illuminating his pale face in the darkness. If not for his calm demeanor, I might have punched him.
He lit a candle, casting wavering shadows across the walls. The antique desk stood before us, but the ghost was nowhere in sight.
Holding my breath, I hesitated to search. Wang Junhui adjusted his grip on the candle, traced a finger through the flame, and directed it toward our backs. The flame tilted unnaturally—the ghost was behind us.
A chill crawled up my spine.
“Turn slowly,” Wang Junhui whispered, gripping my arm. “Don’t startle it.”
Don’t startle it? It’s already terrifying me!
With Wang Junhui’s steady presence, I managed to turn. Behind us, a translucent shadow hovered less than a meter away, facing the opposite direction.
Thump. Thump. My heart raced.
Wang Junhui pressed a finger to my back. “Stay calm. You can communicate now. Go slowly.”
I steadied my breathing and addressed the ghost. “Sir, may you turn around? I need to read your face and vital energy to locate your family.”
The ghost’s form quivered. Slowly, it rotated—but only its upper half. Its legs remained twisted backward. My stomach lurched. Is it taunting me?
Up close, the ghost’s face resembled an ordinary elderly man, translucent but intact. His “Ugliness” facial zone (associated with ages 78-79) radiated heavy yin energy—a death sign. The “Health and Calamity” zone pulsed with lingering sickness, confirming he’d died of illness. Strangely, his “Descendants” zone showed minimal yin energy, indicating a harmonious family. What unfinished business could he have?
Focusing, I traced the faint yin currents in his “Descendants” zone, mentally calculating a divination sequence. The hexagram Yi formed, with a fifth-line transformation. The family resided in a friend’s home in the southern district, likely for health reasons.
“They’re staying with relatives in the south,” I concluded, wiping sweat from my brow. “Someone’s unwell, but it’s not critical.”
Before Wang Junhui could respond, the ghost lurched forward—now fully facing us.
“Steady,” Wang Junhui warned. “It wants to speak.”
He chanted again, tapping my forehead. “I’ve stabilized your mind. Listen carefully.”
The ghost emitted guttural moans, which my ears translated into words: “Is my son ill? How is he?”
“He’s recuperating at a relative’s home,” I replied. “Likely grieving your passing.”
The ghost’s voice wavered. “My youngest son… took care of me. The others lived far away…”
I cut in, “Which relative in the south would they stay with?”
After a pause, the ghost provided an address—his sister’s spacious home.
Relieved, I relayed the details to Ning Yu via text and call. “How’d you get this?!” he exclaimed.
“The ghost told me,” I said flatly. “Just go!”
Wang Junhui and I retreated, extinguishing the candle. Outside, I gulped fresh air.
“Send your friend now,” Wang Junhui advised. “Resolving this tonight is best.”
Inviting him inside, I brewed cheap Tieguanyin tea—a habit inherited from Grandma.
As we drank, Wang Junhui froze, staring at Grandma’s room. “Your grandmother… was she Li Nanshan? The legendary ‘Divine Physiognomist’?”
- Writer
