Chapter 001: The Face on the Right Shoulder

My name is Jiang Huai, and I was born in the land between the Yangtze and Huai Rivers.

That year, a rumor spread that I had spied on someone in the restroom, and I was expelled under pressure. When Grandfather heard, he didn’t go to confront anyone; instead, he muttered some strange, mystical words. Soon after, the two of us were thrown out of the gates.

Barely a few days after my expulsion, the other party in the rumor—Li Xuan—died!

According to my former friends, Li Xuan gave birth to a stillborn child in a public toilet, then bled from every orifice and died as well. Even those who saw her body had nightmares for several nights.

As the saying goes, when the living grieve, the dead are at peace. Li Xuan’s death brought new business to our family.

...

Jianghuai Funeral Services.

Deep in the narrowest stretch of Three-Foot Alley, beneath a sign of ten flashing neon characters, stood three connected shopfronts—my family’s business.

Aside from the glass doors, which were reasonably clean, the rest of the windows were plastered with every kind of flyer imaginable.

“Nemesis of infertility.”

“Licensed locksmith.”

Most absurd of all, one flyer advertised both a house for rent and a reward for someone willing to bear a child.

I once asked Grandfather why he didn’t chase away those who posted these advertisements. He replied, “Everyone’s just trying to make a living. Life isn’t easy for anyone.” He told me that when he first opened the shop, he’d advertise at wedding banquets and in maternity wards.

He didn’t finish the story, but I’m certain he took plenty of beatings for it.

It was precisely because of my grandfather’s reckless marketing and his impeccable skills that, in funeral circles, a couplet was widely recited:

“If you wish your descendants to prosper, the six treasures of the Jiang family are a must: shrouds, paper houses, urns, plus tombstones, grave plots, and spirit money.
If you want your ancestors to smile in the afterlife, make sure you know the Jiang family’s Ninth Elder: for natural and wrongful deaths stand apart, wills and grievances become clear at heart.”

This couplet not only spoke to the fine craftsmanship and honest dealing at our shop, but more importantly, it attested to my grandfather’s profound expertise. Regarding matters of yin and yang, no one in the entire Jianghuai funeral industry was more knowledgeable than he.

My grandfather was a wild Maoshan practitioner.

So-called “wild Maoshan” referred to those who learned the Maoshan arts but did not formally join the sect or take vows—an informal disciple, in short.

Put simply, wild Maoshan were disciples not acknowledged by the Maoshan order.

To become a wild Maoshan required fate. Each teacher passed on only one disciple, one art.

The chosen must be upright and compassionate at heart.

My grandfather was the nineteenth generation; I, the twentieth.

And precisely because I was the twentieth generation, I became labeled as the peeping pervert.

Why did it skip my father? Grandfather refused to teach him, claiming that my father looked like a shrewd businessman, lacking compassion.

My father didn’t mind. He took my mother south to start a business and rarely returned, sending just enough money each month for Grandfather and me to get by.

As a result, there was little affection between my parents and me. Even when I was expelled, they barely reacted.

But the day after news of Li Xuan’s death, my unreliable father actually called, telling me to burn incense for the girl—to appease my conscience.

I was baffled. Why should I seek peace of mind? I tried to save her!

After hanging up, I stared out at the drizzling twilight.

I was about to close up and start dinner when the screech of brakes made me look outside.

A Mercedes S450 stopped smoothly at the shop’s entrance. The door opened.

Former Principal Liu stepped out, holding an umbrella. Our eyes met.

He recognized me immediately—the school’s disgrace, the peeping pervert.

Meeting like this, both of us were awkward. To avoid the discomfort, I simply started closing the door.

“We’re closed. If you need shrouds or urns, come back tomorrow.”

“Jiang Huai!” Principal Liu grabbed my arm, scrutinizing me for a long while.

“What do you want?” I frowned, impatiently shaking off his hand.

“I... I’m looking for the owner. I called ahead.”

“I don’t know. The owner didn’t tell me. You should leave.”

Just as I was about to close the door again, Grandfather emerged from inside. “Jiang Huai? What are you doing? Principal Liu made an appointment!”

He pulled me aside and greeted Principal Liu with hearty enthusiasm, as if he’d forgotten who had once called him an old charlatan, or who had cursed his grandson as a pervert born to parents who never raised him.

It was as if today, Grandfather was the one seeking Principal Liu’s help.

“You little rascal! Why are you standing there? Brew some tea for Principal Liu! Use that Longjing I keep!”

I dared not defy Grandfather. While making the tea, I spat into Principal Liu’s cup and stirred it with my finger.

I served the cup, eager to see him drink my spit.

But Principal Liu, face troubled, simply stared at the cup without touching it.

Grandfather spoke first, probing, “Principal Liu, on the phone you said you wanted to purchase two mountains of gold, a luxury mansion, and a full set of paper offerings. Is that right?”

Principal Liu nodded distractedly. “Yes, yes.”

“Not many are as filial as you nowadays,” Grandfather praised as he fetched a calculator. “All together, that’s eighteen thousand eight hundred eighty-eight. As you know, offerings for the departed aren’t subject to discounts.”

“Fine, fine.” Principal Liu swiped his card without hesitation, then sat there staring at the floor, lost in thought.

Grandfather waved a hand before his eyes. “Principal Liu? Leave an address and a time? I’ll have Jiang Huai deliver everything to your home.”

“Ah!” Principal Liu snapped out of his daze, somewhat embarrassed. “Master Jiang, you misunderstand. These aren’t for my family.”

His gaze shifted to me, pupils wide as he said, “Li Xuan is dead.”

Before Grandfather could reply, Principal Liu blurted out, “Master Jiang, what you said in my office before—was it true? Was Li Xuan haunted by a ghost infant? Was Jiang Huai trying to save her?”

“No, no, that’s not...” Principal Liu muttered, scratching his head and shaking it. Suddenly he stopped, staring straight at my grandfather. “I mean—can you really deal with ghosts?”

Whoosh—bang!

As soon as the words left his mouth, a wild gust of wind slammed the shop door hard against the wall.

“Jiang Huai, close the door,” Grandfather commanded, lighting his tobacco pipe with a match and exhaling a stream of blue smoke toward Principal Liu.

As I shut the door and turned back, I saw Grandfather’s smoke curl past Principal Liu’s shoulder, outlining a shadowy form.

Looking closely, it was the face of a long-haired woman—Li Xuan!