Chapter 184: He *had* To |
Yu Xiao studied the man before her, his confusion a stark contrast to the quiet confidence he had projected earlier.
“Your name?” she asked, though a nagging feeling told her that even a name wouldn’t be much help.
They didn’t know the senior’s name, and forty years was a long time for identities to fade.
“Zheng Dong Li,” he replied. “From Province D, here in City A for work. I’m a… well, you could call me a Yin-Yang Master. A practitioner of Daoist arts.” He looked at them expectantly. “And yourselves?”
Zhou Xiao Zhen frowned. “A what master?”
“Kind of like a Taoist priest,” Yu Xiao explained, although her understanding was a little fuzzy. “Deals with ghosts and stuff.”
“Really?” Zhao Lan looked sceptical. “I thought they did feng shui, moved graves around.”
Zheng Dong Li observed their bewildered expressions, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. They seemed remarkably unconcerned with the finer points of the occult, especially considering the casual way the one with the black beanie had whipped up that talisman.
Undeterred, he continued. “A Yin-Yang Master has many roles, so to speak. Feng shui, the Eight Trigrams, fortune-telling, exorcisms…”
Zheng Dong Li nodded. “Exactly.”
“So why is this captivating career seminar taking place right outside our door?” Zhao Lan’s tone was filled with suspicion. “And how did you manage to find us?”
Zheng Dong Li, still stranded on the wrong side of the threshold, remained the epitome of patience. “The talisman, for one. And,” he added, “I saw the Tick Tock video. I went to the hospital, left my number, but you were gone. Already discharged. It seemed rather… hasty. So, I used certain… resources.”
“Resources?” Yu Xiao echoed, her instincts tingling. “You said the talisman was only part of it.”
“Your abilities.” Zheng Dong Li met her gaze directly.
Zhao Lan and Zhou Xiao Zhen exchanged alarmed looks.
“Surely,” he continued, his voice softening, “you must have questions. Concerns, even? These abilities manifesting…”
Silence.
This time, no one bothered with exchanging looks. They had long since mastered the art of silent communication through shared bewilderment and a healthy dose of ‘let’s just roll with it’.
It was Zheng Dong Li’s turn to look bewildered. “You’re not… surprised?”
“Starving, actually,” Yu Xiao declared, her quick thinking kicking in. “Dinner was a bit rushed. Right, Precious?”
Zhou Xiao Zhen, catching on, nodded enthusiastically. “When you knocked just now, Thought you were a takeout.”
The lift doors opened, revealing a curious neighbour whose eyes darted between the four figures crowding the doorway. Sensing his discomfort, Yu Xiao leaned towards Zhao Lan. “Mind if we take this inside?”
“You want to let him in?”
“Yeah,” Yu Xiao said, stepping back.
“Come in,” Zhao Lan said, her tone wary but not unfriendly.
“Thank you,” Zheng Dong Li said, his relief palpable. “For your trust.”
“More like trusting ourselves,” Zhou Xiao Zhen piped up, positioning herself next to Yu Xiao, exuding youthful bravado. “We’ve got this.”
Zheng Dong Li, feeling increasingly out of touch with this new generation, offered a hesitant smile. His gaze landed on the coffee table, where Yu Xiao’s drawings were scattered. “Those…” he started.
Zhao Lan swiftly intervened, scooping up the portraits with a practised speed that hinted at her ability to deflect unwanted attention. “Water?” she suggested, her tone overly cheerful.
“No, thank you,” Zheng Dong Li patted his own thermos. “I come prepared.”
They gathered around the rectangular dining table, the overhead lamp casting long shadows and emphasising the seriousness on their faces.
An uncomfortable silence fell upon them.
Zheng Dong Li cleared his throat. “Don’t you have any… questions?”
“What is there to ask?” Zhou Xiao Zhen grabbed a teacup and effortlessly shattered it with a casual flex of her fingers. “Just say it.”
Beside her, Zhao Lan gasped, her eyes widening in horror as her favourite teacup met its demise like all delicate things do.
Zheng Dong Li winced. He unscrewed his thermos, took a strengthening sip, then locked eyes with them. Yu Xiao, always attentive, noticed the distinct movement of goji berries bobbing in the steaming liquid.
“Where should I start?” he murmured, speaking more to himself than to them. He looked at them, his gaze sharp despite his earlier confusion. “Tell me, were you, perhaps… very ill? And then, as you were about to be discharged, you found yourselves… strong?”
Zhou Xiao Zhen shot Yu Xiao a wide-eyed look. Zhao Lan, still recovering from the teacup incident, spoke for all of them. “How did you know?”
Zheng Dong Li smiled, a slow, sad curve of his lips. He tapped a finger against his chest. “Because… me too.”
The word landed like a grenade, shattering the last fragments of normalcy in the room. Zhao Lan and Zhou Xiao Zhen stared at him, then, simultaneously, turned to Yu Xiao.
Yu Xiao, unaffected by the shocking revelation, simply raised an eyebrow. “And?”
“You don’t believe it?” Zheng Dong Li gestured vaguely at the table, then, to illustrate his point, picked up Zhao Lan’s teacup.
“Hey!” Zhao Lan snatched it back, clutching it protectively to her chest. “Hands off the china!”
Zheng Dong Li, caught between amusement and bewilderment, scratched his nose. “Right. So… proof. How do I convince you?”
“No need,” Yu Xiao said simply. “We believe you.”
Zhao Lan shot her a look that screamed, *We do?!*
Zheng Dong Li beamed. *The quiet one, the talisman prodigy, she was alright. Level-headed. Good occult circle material.*
“Thirteen years ago,” he began, launching into his story, “I was very ill. Touch and go, the doctors said. Those were different times, medicine wasn’t as advanced… but somehow, I pulled through. Only…” He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. “Something wasn’t right. I was strong. Too strong. No, not just strong,” he corrected himself, his gaze distant, as if reliving a memory both exhilarating and terrifying. “It was… beyond human.”
He looked at them, his eyes searching theirs for understanding. “Don’t worry. It’s manageable. Doesn’t affect daily life… much.”
Yu Xiao listened, the pieces clicking into place. This was him, then. The one who’d left the talismans at the hospital. He’d forgotten, just like everyone else who’d walked out of those cursed doors. Except for her, of course. She was the anomaly, the one who remembered, because she had not truly left.
“Have you been alright?” she asked, her voice quiet.
The question seemed to give Zheng Dong Li pause, but he quickly recovered. “Like I said, manageable. I’m a Taoist priest, you see, comes from a long line of them. Grew up on feng shui and ancient texts. So, when my body started… changing, I knew who to ask.”
A flicker of doubt crossed his face. “It was the being between life and death, my elder said. Scrambled something in me. And the thing is…” he hesitated. “He’d seen it before.”
“Others?” Zhao Lan breathed, her scepticism momentarily forgotten.
“One other,” Zheng Dong Li confirmed. “An old friend of his. Anti-Japanese War veteran. Same story. Sick, recovered, different.” He screwed the cap back on his thermos, the quiet click echoing in the sudden silence.
“It got me thinking,” he continued, his gaze distant. “What if there are more? Out there, somewhere, living their lives, unaware… or maybe not. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’m looking.”
The weight of his words settled over the room.
From the flat upstairs, a baby’s cries drifted down, punctuated by the soft murmur of a lullaby. The mundane sounds of a city settling down for the night.
Yu Xiao, watching Zheng Dong Li, the calmness of his demeanour, the quiet determination in his eyes, wondered: was this the man who’d filled those hospital drawers with talismans, years ago? Was this the legacy he’d unknowingly left behind?
“Did you find them?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
A slow smile spread across Zheng Dong Li’s face. “Some. Communication wasn’t what it is now, but I found a few. Enough to see a pattern.”
He frowned, as if puzzling over a difficult passage in an ancient text. “The further back I went, the fewer I found. Most… most are young, like you.” He gestured at them, his hand encompassing their youth, their bewilderment, their strange, shared fate.
Yu Xiao nodded slowly, understanding the situation. It all made sense. The talismans, which had been neglected and left to gather dust in a forgotten drawer, were used only when she found them. Years of patience had been lost before they finally began to emerge from Horror Hospital, burdened by a piece of its darkness that now resided within them.
She suddenly realised that the majority of these patients probably came from the other hospitals. Hospitals three, four, five, six… mainly filled with younger patients.
This would change, she knew. The talismans, rediscovered, were already changing things. Patients were leaving, their yin energy neutralised, their lives undisturbed by the hospital’s strange magic. The ripple effect of her actions, small but significant.
“I’ve travelled far,” Zheng Dong Li continued, his gaze distant. “Met many like us. I still don’t know why, but… I help them. Calm their fears. Show them how to live with it.”
Zhou Xiao Zhen, watching him, felt an unexpected surge of warmth towards this stranger. “And they’re okay?” she asked. “All of them?”
“Most,” Zheng Dong Li admitted, his smile fading. “Not all.”
“Funny you should mention that,” Zhou Xiao Zhen said, leaning forward. “Got a bit of a dilemma myself.”
Zheng Dong Li’s gaze softened. “Tell me. I may be older, but that just means I’ve made more mistakes. Maybe some of them will be useful to you.”
“Here’s the thing,” Zhou Xiao Zhen announced, leaning forward with the air of someone about to reveal a genius plan. “I’m eighteen, right? College entrance exams this year, but thanks to our little hospital adventure, my grades are shot. Repeating a year? No way. But! I’m basically Superwoman now! So, Olympics it is. Weightlifting. Gold medal. University acceptance guaranteed.” She beamed at Zheng Dong Li, awaiting his enthusiastic approval.
Silence.
Zheng Dong Li stared at her, his expression somewhere between bewildered and impressed.
“Uncle Zheng?” Zhou Xiao Zhen prompted, her confidence wavering slightly. “Think it’ll work?”
“Well…” He hesitated, taken aback by the sheer audacity of her plan. “I’ve met many like us, over the years. Taken all sorts of paths. But… Olympics? That’s a new one.”
Zhou Xiao Zhen bounced impatiently in her seat. “So… is that a yes?”
“Bringing glory to the motherland is always commendable.” Zheng Dong Li, ever the patriot, couldn’t bring himself to discourage her completely. “Just… maybe be a *little* subtle about it? No need to Hulk-smash the competition.”
Zhou Xiao Zhen grinned, her earlier uncertainty forgotten. “Got it! Smiley said the same thing!”
“Smiley?” Zheng Dong Li looked at them, his brow furrowed. “You haven’t even introduced yourselves properly.”
“Zhou Xiao Zhen, at your service!” she chirped.
“Zhao Lan.”
“Yu Xiao.”
Yu Xiao had a plan, once. Visit her old hospital friends. Yu Qing Lang, Tang Xing Yin. Even if they didn’t remember her, she’d promised. But time was slipping away, and finding them in this sprawling city felt impossible.
Until now.
“Thank you,” Yu Xiao said, her gaze steady on Zheng Dong Li. “For telling us all this.”
He smiled, unscrewing his thermos again. The steam, fragrant with goji berries and something vaguely medicinal, wafted up towards the ceiling. “It was the right thing to do.”
“Actually,” Yu Xiao continued, “there is something…”
“Ask away,” Zheng Dong Li said, his expression open.
“Those others,” she pressed, her voice soft but insistent. “The ones like us. I want to meet them.” She knew it was a long shot, but hope, once ignited, was hard to extinguish. “If it’s not too much trouble… maybe their addresses? Contact numbers? Anything?”
Zheng Dong Li understood the impulse well. To find others who shared this strange secret, this unexpected twist of fate.
He considered for a moment. “I can reach out. See if anyone’s interested in meeting. We can arrange something.”
“This week, ideally,” Yu Xiao pressed. Time, she knew, was a luxury she didn’t necessarily have.
He looked at her, surprised by her urgency, then nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The hour was late, the conversation drawing to a natural close. As he stood to leave, Zheng Dong Li paused, his gaze drawn back to the talisman in Yu Xiao’s hand.
“That talisman,” he began, his voice hesitant. “The one you drew… do you know its origins?”
Yu Xiao met his gaze, her expression unreadable. “Why is it so important?”
He frowned, turning the Old Lord’s Talisman over and over in his fingers. “It’s… familiar. And sad, somehow. A talisman for dispelling separation, I think. But what is it separating?”
“Yin energy,” Yu Xiao replied simply.
Comprehension dawned on Zheng Dong Li’s face. “Of course. The creator… they must have been remarkable.”
“They were,” Yu Xiao agreed, her voice soft.
He knew she wouldn’t reveal more. He rose, tucking his thermos under his arm. “It’s late. I should go. Your contact details?”
Numbers were exchanged, WeChat contacts added. At the door, Zheng Dong Li paused, turning back to Yu Xiao. “One last thing. The talisman… it has a name?”
“Old Lord’s Talisman,” she replied.
He nodded, then was gone, swallowed by the hallway’s dim light.
“Knew him from the hospital?” Zhao Lan asked, once the door had closed behind him.
“Not personally,” Yu Xiao admitted. “But he’s the one who left those talismans. Years ago.”
“No way! Him?!” Zhou Xiao Zhen exclaimed, her eyes wide. “No wonder I felt familiar with him when I saw him just now.”
Zhao Lan shot her a look. “Familiar, my ass? You barely spoke to the man. Besides crushing my teacup, that is.”
“Oh, come on, Misty~” Zhou Xiao Zhen whined, draping herself over Zhao Lan in a very unsubtle attempt at a distraction. “Don’t be like that~”
“Get off me, you menace!” Zhao Lan shrieked, though her laughter betrayed her amusement.
“So,” Yu Xiao interrupted their usual chaos, “this gathering… you up for it?”
“Hell yeah!” Zhou Xiao Zhen was practically vibrating with excitement. “Maybe we’ll even know someone there!”
“Right,” Zhao Lan deadpanned. “Because your memory’s so stellar these days.”
“Doesn’t matter!” Zhou Xiao Zhen declared, already lost in a world of clandestine meetings and supernatural intrigue. “Secret society, here we come! This is like, straight out of a movie!”
“Go to bed, drama queen,” Zhao Lan said, retrieving the portrait from the coffee table. “Both of you, showers and sleep. I’ll post this online. See if anyone recognises our ghost lady.”
**
Zheng Dong Li, his impromptu visit concluded, navigated the city streets, his thoughts a tangled mess of talismans and unanswered questions. He’d come to City A for a simple feng shui consultation, never expecting to stumble upon a mystery that resonated so deeply within him.
Back in his hotel room, the familiar routine of goji berry tea and a hot shower did little to soothe his restless mind. He lay in bed, the Old Lord’s Talisman clutched in his hand, its red ink a stark contrast against the white bedsheets.
He stared at it, his mind drifting, until sleep finally claimed him.
In his dream, he saw a man hunched over a table, the air thick with incense and the frantic scratching of a calligraphy brush. A large black dog lay nearby, its watchful gaze fixed on the man’s every move.
The man was drawing talismans, his hand moving with a desperate urgency. He was exhausted, his fingers trembling, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He dipped the brush in cinnabar, his movements growing weaker, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Finally, with a groan of pain, he stopped, his hand cramping, his face beaded with sweat.
He had to make more.
He *had* to.