A Prophet - Chapter 22 (Part 4)
Chapter 4 - The Second Leader's Ghost-Catching Expedition
The following afternoon, the Second Leader appeared at the home of the mark suffering from the wandering-soul illness, wearing a long, pasted-on fake beard.
The Third Leader introduced him to the head of the household: "This is my senior martial brother, the most formidable ghost-catching master in the Jianghuai region."
The man looked the Second Leader over and nodded, saying, "He truly bears the physiognomy of Zhong Kui."
Once the altar table, lamps, candles, yellow joss paper, and other ritual implements were fully arranged, the Second Leader began performing the rite.
"Boundless Heavenly Venerate! Ye demons and ghosts, show yourselves at once!" The Second Leader brandished a peach-wood sword, waving it back and forth with theatrical pretense.
Afterward, taking a mouthful of cinnabar water, he spat it out with a sudden poof, spraying it entirely across the white cloth set beside the altar table.
Before long, clawing and baring-fangs prints of ghosts and demons appeared on the white cloth.
Everyone present let out a gasp of astonishment!
The Second Leader raised his peach-wood sword and stabbed repeatedly at the white cloth, thrusting over a dozen times in quick succession while chanting: "If you want to be a ghost, be a ghost—what are you doing wandering the mortal realm? All karmic creditors, I grant you deliverance, I grant you deliverance, depart swiftly, depart swiftly! Ooh-yah—!"
The final "ooh-yah" erupted from his lower dantian, surged up through his throat, and pierced straight into the nine heavens, giving everyone nearby a sudden start. The Third Leader stood to the side, biting back laughter and coughing twice heavily to cover it up.
Concluding his ritualistic arts, the Second Leader stood drenched in sweat: "All right, they have all gone, all gone."
"Many thanks, Master!" The head of the household stepped forward, presenting several legal-tender banknotes. "This meager wealth is a token of our humble respect; please accept it with a smile, Master."
The Second Leader waved a hand: "Easily said, easily said. We practitioners of the Daoist gate harbor no attachment to worldly trinkets; money is to us like worthless paper." With that, he pulled a packet of medicine from his pocket and handed it to the head of the household. "This is the 'Nine-Cycle Soul-Returning Elixir' which I personally refined. Have your young son take it three times a day, and I guarantee no vengeful ghosts will ever plague him again."
"Many thanks! Many thanks!" The head of the household bowed repeatedly in deep gratitude.
"Junior brothers, let us be on our way." The Second Leader told the surrounding Abao members.
"No, no, this simply will not do." The head of the household reached out to grab the Second Leader, saying with deep emotion, "Isn't the Master scolding me with this? For the Master to personally journey out here to dispel the illness of my unworthy son without accepting a single coin is already an act of immense grace and boundless virtue. How could I possibly take your miraculous pills for nothing? I must pay for this!"
"Think nothing of it." The Second Leader shook his head. "These pills of mine use snow lotus from the Heavenly Mountains as their medicinal, are steeped in the spring waters of Baotu, and are refined through forty-nine days of esoteric Daoist methods. You simply cannot afford to pay for them."
"If the Master had remained silent, that would be one thing, but hearing this makes me feel even more deeply guilty. Such miraculous medicine and wondrous formula—how much money do they actually cost?"
"To one who recognizes this treasure, a thousand pieces of gold cannot buy it; to one who does not, it is not worth a single cash," the Second Leader declared.
"Master, say no more! I understand!" The head of the household turned to a young woman and said, "Daya, go fetch the jade thumb ring left behind by your grandmother!"
The girl turned and went inside, returning a moment later holding an artifact.
"Master! This item is an heirloom passed down in my family. The grace of saving my son cannot be repaid with a thousand pieces of gold; please kindly accept this small trinket with a smile."
The Second Leader looked at it and said, "This..."
"Master, please do not decline. This is not mere money; it is a token of trust, and I trust you."
"In that case... to show respect is better than to decline. I shall hold it in safekeeping for you, and should you face hardship in days to come, you may come to my humble dwelling to retrieve it."
Having finally achieved their objective, the Second Leader and his cohorts exchanged a few polite pleasantries and quickly made their retreat.
Back at the faction hall, the Second Leader was radiant with joy: "Hahaha. That foolish bird thought he could dismiss me with a few legal-tender banknotes—as if it were that easy."
The Third Leader smiled and said, "Grandpa will certainly be very pleased this time."
"That goes without saying! Once this matter has completely settled down, we'll present it to Grandpa; even then, he won't blame us for acting first and reporting later."
"Second Brother is brilliant!"
The reason the Second Leader and the Third Leader dared to accept such a valuable item from the other party was their absolute confidence that they could cure the child's wandering-soul illness. Since ancient times, the River-Merchant Faction had taken on countless jobs of this nature; it wasn't that the Faction possessed any genuine ghost-expelling sorcery, but rather that many of the old ancestors of the River-Merchant Faction understood traditional Chinese medicine and possessed profound research into illnesses like wandering-soul syndrome. Medicinal formulas specifically used in traditional Chinese medicine for calming fright, settling the mind, and expelling malevolent energies had long since been mastered by them. A standalone prescription wasn't worth much, but once packaged by them and integrated into the Zhafei arts, its value changed entirely.
Once an illness was linked to spirits and ghosts, an astronomical price could be demanded. Ghost-catching could not be weighed by the pound or bought by the ounce—gold has a price, but ghosts are priceless. When disciples of the River-Merchant Faction caught ghosts, they would invariably stage a theatrical, mind-boggling performance first, only producing the actual medicine at the very end. Subduing demons was a sham; the medicinal prescription was the real deal. Pity the ordinary folk who always placed too much weight on the foreplay while ignoring the true mechanism hidden behind it.
Two days later, just as the Second Leader and the Third Leader were reveling in secret delight, the head of the household returned.
At the sight of him, the Second Leader's heart blossomed with joy: There was no need to ask—this was the follow-up token of gratitude; his son must have completely recovered.
"How goes it? Those old men with white beards are gone, aren't they?" the Second Leader asked confidently.
The man smiled helplessly: "The old men are gone. But a whole group of old women came instead, and they're all leading dogs."
"Oh?" The Second Leader was struck by a wave of astonishment. "Based on past experience, that is impossible."
"Master, did you actually catch that ghost or not?" the man asked anxiously.
"Rest assured on that score. Based on my twenty-plus years of ghost-catching experience, there should be no mistake."
"Then why does my son say another group of old women has come, and they're all leading dogs, scaring him so badly in the middle of the night that he keeps screaming, 'The wind is coming, the rain is coming, the old women are coming with their dogs!' It's turned the entire neighborhood upside down so no one can have peace."
The Second Leader thought for a moment and spoke with solemn pretense: "Listen to me, ghosts come in all sorts of varieties. Some have good tempers, some have bad tempers; some are impatient, some are slow-paced. The ghost in your house is of the slow-paced variety—while he was alive, he was the kind of person who wouldn't even run to the outhouse when he needed to drop his trousers..."
Listening from the side, the Third Leader's heart hammered against his ribs. Yingyao speechcraft was not the Second Leader's specialty; his true forte was the Zhafei arts. The Third Leader hurriedly hijacked the conversation: "My senior brother always loves to explain profound and mysterious principles in simple, easy-to-understand terms. What he means is that the ghost in your house harbors excessively deep grievances and refuses to let go of your son, so we must perform one more ritual. Besides, hasn't your son been taking my senior brother's elixir all along?"
"Yes, he has, three times a day."
"Have no fear, we will go over once more tomorrow."
"Then... then we must trouble the masters." The man's address toward the Third Leader and the Second Leader had shifted from "Master" to "Teachers."
After the man departed, the Third Leader said to the Second Leader, "This is looking bad. Should we report this to Grandpa?"
"No need! Can't I even handle this little matter? Watch me administer a heavy dose tomorrow; I guarantee I'll cure his boy!"
The next day, at the noon hour, the Second Leader and the Third Leader stepped forth alongside a group of Abao members.
"Heavenly numinous and spiritual, earthly numinous and spiritual, you malefic monster, will you not depart! Morphing into a man, morphing into a woman, I shall slay you, I shall hack you to pieces! Ooh-yah—!" Brandishing his treasured sword, the Second Leader chased about the courtyard before suddenly pointing at the child and screaming, "He's possessed! He's possessed! It has taken possession of the child's body!"
The surrounding onlookers turned pale with terror.
"Quickly, tie the child up for me!"
The head of the household was stunned: "Tie him up?"
Lifting his peach-wood sword in his left hand while forming a double-finger incantation seal with his right, the Second Leader barked, "Tie him up!"
The father hesitated out of reluctance.
"Hurry up! The ghost is right inside him! Do you still want to save your son or not?"
Hardening his heart, the father said, "Do it." Several men swarmed forward and bound the child tightly.
Trembling all over in terror, the boy stared in horror at the Second Leader as though looking at a vicious fiend.
The Second Leader pointed at the date tree in the courtyard: "Hang him up!"
The crowd froze for a moment before immediately hoisting the child upside down, head-to-ground, from the tree.
Choked until the veins on his temples bulged, the boy screamed at the top of his lungs in sheer desperation: "Ghosts! Ghosts! There are ghosts!"
"The ghost is within him! Beat him with clubs for me!" the Second Leader commanded.
The Third Leader snatched up a willow mourning staff and lashed it against the child's body—Whack! Whack! Whack!
"Ghosts! There are ghosts! Ghost! Ghost!" Blood leaked from the corners of the boy's eyes and mouth as he struggled and shrieked with a terrifying expression. The surrounding onlookers recoiled step by step in fright.
Pointing his sword at the child, the Second Leader shouted, "Still refusing to come out? Pierce him with needles!"
A lackey drew out a "demon-subbing silver needle" and stabbed it fiercely into the child's body, fresh blood welling up in spurts to dye the boy's clothes crimson.
"Ah! Ah! A ghost... you are a ghost! You are a ghost!" The child shrieked in agonizing cries, his body writhing and shaking so violently that the date tree rattled, his vicious gaze locked unwaveringly onto the Second Leader.
Stripping away all remaining pretense, the Second Leader completely lost face. He could no longer restrain himself; disregarding any Daoist altar protocols, he threw down his peach-wood sword, kicked over the altar table with one foot, snatched the willow mourning staff from the Third Leader's hands, swung his arm back, and began beating the boy himself.
Whack! Whack! Two blows landed squarely on the child's head, and the boy instantly went silent.
The Third Leader stepped back two paces and drew in a sharp breath of cold air: We're in trouble!
"He's gone. The ghost is gone." Tossing aside the willow mourning staff, the Second Leader panted heavily.
Everyone watching stood dumbfounded: Was this motherfucker a master? He was nothing more than a beast in human skin.
"My son!" The child's mother rushed forward, flinging herself over the boy's body.
Gathering his courage, the Third Leader crept closer and tested the child's breath with his hand—respiration was still present, so he hurriedly smoothed things over: "Quickly carry the child indoors; the wandering soul has returned to its body. Rest quietly for a few days and everything will be well."
Unsteadily, the people untied the child from the tree and carried him into the house.
"All right. This time he's completely gone, you can rest easy," the Second Leader told the head of the household.
The father looked dubiously at the Second Leader: "Oh..."
"Rest assured, those old men and old women will never come back."
"Keep giving him the divine pills as usual," the Third Leader added.
After a round of speechcraft, the two faction leaders and several Abao members finally managed to make their escape.
Back at the hall, the Third Leader felt deeply uneasy: "Second Brother, is something going to go wrong?"
By this point, the Second Leader had also sobered up. Because he had lost face so terribly earlier, he hadn't been able to stop himself from stepping in to beat the boy personally. Now that he thought about it, he was gripped by lingering fear—what if the child died? This kind of beating and needle-stabbing method could generally not be used without prior approval from Grandpa, and once again he had brought disaster upon himself...
"Don't worry, a man stands behind his own actions," the Second Leader said.
"Should we tell Grandpa?"
"Let's wait and see."
Time refused to grant the Second Leader any more waiting; the very next day, Cai Xuezhong arrived leading a squad of police officers, barking an order that instantly surrounded Grandpa's residence.
"Grandpa, this time you've really stirred up a massive hornet's nest!"
Having no inkling of what had transpired, Grandpa hurriedly asked, "What is the meaning of this?"
"What is the meaning of this? Your disciple beat a person into a deep coma, and you don't even know?"
"He beat someone?"
"So composed, aren't we? Hand him over right now!"
"Which one?"
"Your second disciple! Stop dawdling! Hurry up!"
A drumbeat of anxiety pounded in Grandpa's chest: What kind of trouble had this bastard gotten into this time?
"Housekeeper, go call the second disciple here!" Grandpa instructed.
Wu Laoer trotted all the way out, and shortly thereafter, the Second Leader returned looking terrified.
"What have you done this time?" Grandpa stared fixedly at the Second Leader and demanded.
"Grandpa, I..."
"Take him away! Take him away!" At Cai Xuezhong's command, his subordinates bound the Second Leader.
"Grandpa, farewell!" The group departed in a clamor, dragging the Second Leader with them.
With Grandpa already nursing a headache over Yun Caiwei's situation, the Second Leader's antics only added fuel to the fire, sending stabbing pains through Grandpa's temples.
"What on earth happened?" Grandpa roared.
Terrified, the Third Leader prostrated himself on the floor and recounted the entire sequence of events from beginning to end.
Hearing this, Grandpa gritted his teeth in fury: "You..."
"Grandpa, spare my life!" The Third Leader groveled, begging for mercy.
"How is that child right now?" Grandpa maintained a shred of composure.
"The parents brought him over—he's right outside the entrance of our fortune-telling shop, and the child's parents are crying and making a scene."
"Quickly arrange for someone to take the child to the best hospital. Convey my decree: tell them the Iron-Plate Master will definitely save their son, and we will cover all expenses. First, pacify the child's parents. Also, contact Wu Junrun at the newspaper office and have him keep a close eye over the next couple of days; any news concerning the faction hall must be suppressed at all costs."
"Understood!"
After the Third Leader left, Grandpa paced back and forth across the room with his hands clasped behind his back.
Wu Laoer approached him: "Grandpa, Miss Yun is crying again and still refusing to eat. If this keeps up, I'm afraid..."
Ever since learning that her husband had been executed by the Kuomintang, Yun Caiwei had fallen into utter despair, weeping from morning till night and refusing all food and drink. Terrified that she might do something foolish to end her life, Grandpa had no choice but to assign the housekeeper and several female Abao members to keep watch over her day and night.
"Miss Yun, the dead cannot be brought back to life. I ask that Miss Yun place the greater situation above all else," Grandpa said to Yun Caiwei, who was leaning against the head of the bed.
"Master need not comfort me. Caiwei was abandoned by her parents at a young age, entered an acrobatic troupe and suffered every imaginable hardship, and only pulled her life back from the brink thanks to the great benevolence of Ninth Master who rescued her. Later I was fostered by others; my adoptive parents showed me immense grace, and though our family was not well-off, they still provided for my education. Then Ninth Master died, and my adoptive parents died as well. I feel I have no kin left in this world. It was my husband who allowed me to regain my self-respect as a human being. With him gone, I truly feel life has lost all meaning."
"Miss Yun, please restrain your grief."
"Did Master foresee my husband's death all along and simply choose not to reveal it?" Yun Caiwei asked.
A wave of bewilderment washed over Grandpa—what could he possibly foresee? Yet he nodded and said, "Indeed. Judging by the Eight Characters Miss Yun provided, Master Fang was the descent of the Changeng star from the heavens—much like Yue Fei or Lord Guan, such great figures carry missions and karmic causes. Once their mission is fulfilled, it is time to return to the heavens. Ordinary mortals believe he died, but from my perspective as a fortune-teller, he has returned to the heavens to fulfill his mandate."
"Truly?"
"Those of the Daoist gate do not utter falsehoods. If Miss Yun does not believe me, I can employ the technique of the Mandorla Realm; you may witness your husband's true form within the Mandorla Realm..."
"The technique of the Mandorla Realm?" Yun Caiwei looked somewhat perplexed.
"Correct. An esoteric Daoist art. Those who achieve distinguished renown upon passing away will enter the Mandorla Realm to enjoy the incense offerings of the mortal world. The Mandorla Realm lies above the nine heavens; it is the dwelling place of immortals."
"Can I truly see my husband?"
"Without a doubt."
That night, at the hour of Zi, Grandpa staged the "Mandorla Realm Blessing Rite" which he had not performed in ages.
A massive incense burner was set up in the courtyard, with several hundred sticks of sandalwood thrust into it. Under the shroud of night, the sandalwood burned slowly, points of incense glowing like stars amidst swirling wisps of smoke.
Cinnabar talismans and command banners hung all around the courtyard, and eight female Abao disciples, dressed in Daoist garb, sat cross-legged in a circle following the layout of the Nine Palaces and Eight Trigrams.
Chanting incantations under his breath, Grandpa produced a roll of yellow joss paper and ignited it with a candle flame. The joss paper burst into flames, sending paper smoke billowing upward.
Kneeling before the incense burner, Yun Caiwei pressed her palms together in pious prayer.
"Miss Yun, please pluck the single stick of incense burning most brightly within the burner," Grandpa commanded.
Yun Caiwei hurriedly stood up. Looking out, the hundreds of sandalwood sticks bloomed like scattered heavenly flowers, their crimson tips flashing on and off, standing out with striking contrast in the darkness.
Straining her eyes to observe, her vision blurred, yet she still could not distinguish which incense stick was burning the brightest.
"Master, I cannot choose."
Nodding, Grandpa said, "Close your eyes and search with your heart."
Drawing a deep breath, Yun Caiwei closed her eyes and extended her hand guided by instinct. Suddenly, a stick of incense brushed against her, stinging her slightly; opening her eyes, she pulled that stick of incense out and clasped it between her palms.
"Master, I have found it."
"Mm. This stick of incense is your husband's dharma body. Close your eyes, and he will appear before you at once."
Piously closing her eyes, Yun Caiwei brought her hands together to cradle the incense between them, praying silently.
"Do not open your eyes. Look with your heart; once the gates of your heart open, you will see everything," Grandpa repeated.
Yun Caiwei nodded.
A breeze swept through, rustling the trees.
Grandpa said in a mysterious tone, "He has arrived. He is sitting right within the Mandorla Realm's incense burner, draped in white light, and he is smiling at you. Do you see him?"
Yun Caiwei remained silent.
"Do you see him?" Grandpa continued to guide her.
"I see him..." Yun Caiwei had already broken down in tears. "I see him!" She was completely overcome with sobbing.
Late at night, the ritual altar was cleared away.
Yun Caiwei sat quietly. Grandpa sipped his tea alone, sorting through the various details regarding the boy beaten unconscious by the Second Leader—information relayed back by the Third Leader—while preparing his countermeasure.
"Thank you, Master," Yun Caiwei suddenly said.
"Miss Yun is too polite. I merely wished to let Miss Yun understand where Master Fang has gone; knowing that he is fundamentally a being of heaven, you will no longer grieve."
"Whether mortal or immortal, god or ghost, across heaven and earth, yearning never ceases." Tears welled up in Yun Caiwei's eyes once more.
"Unceasing yearning forms romantic ties. Where ties do not end, karma does not disperse. In the next life, Miss Yun and Master Fang will surely fulfill a wonderful bond," Grandpa said.
Yun Caiwei smiled—a smile mixed with tears: "Master, the dead cannot return to life; you know it and I know it. Whether I see it or not, it matters little, but I choose to believe I saw it."
Grandpa's face flushed slightly. The "Mandorla Realm ritual" relied entirely on applied psychology; a sea of burning incense amidst total darkness left people feeling dizzy and disoriented. At that moment, if instructed to close one's eyes, a person's vision would naturally conjure various sights and colors—a normal physiological phenomenon. The brilliance of the ritual lay in the practitioner standing nearby, continuously providing psychological suggestion, reminding, guiding, and asking whether certain scenes were visible. Compelled by this guidance, the subject would piece together their own mental imagery, ultimately projecting the "vision" they most longed to see right onto the screen of their mind. This operated on the exact same principle as hypnosis—both relied on psychological suggestion.
Clearly, Yun Caiwei was an intelligent woman who saw right through it all.
Yun Caiwei continued: "At the moment I stood beside the Mandorla Realm's incense burner, I suddenly felt so ethereal, so relaxed. In this human lifetime, one knows neither when birth comes nor when death arrives; life is inherently impermanent, and the only thing we can truly decide is the present moment. Living each day well is the true foundation of being human."
Hearing this, Grandpa sighed inwardly: "Miss Yun has attained a profound and thorough awakening; it is both admirable and worthy of respect."
"Master has been worrying day and night for my sake these past few days, and this young woman is deeply grateful. Just now I saw Master furrowing his brow; I wonder what matter is troubling you?" Yun Caiwei asked.
"Ah..." Grandpa paused before saying, "It is my second disciple. A few days ago, while performing a ritual to expel demons for a child afflicted with wandering-soul syndrome, an accident occurred that left the boy in a deep coma. Now the other party has come looking for us, and the police department has taken my second disciple away."
"Wandering-soul syndrome? You mean that kind of illness where they see spirits and ghosts?"
"Precisely. The moment night falls, that boy claims to see all sorts of bizarre things..."
Wiping away the tears from the corners of her eyes, Yun Caiwei said, "Why didn't Master say so sooner! I happen to have a prescription that just might cure this ailment."
Grandpa's eyes lit up.
Yun Caiwei explained: "My husband's family practiced medicine for three generations, and they had targeted remedies for ailments of fright and terror in children. Last year in Zhabei, a child came down with wandering-soul syndrome—climbing into the chicken coop at night to catch chickens while remaining completely oblivious to it afterward—and after taking only three doses of my family's medicine, he made a full recovery."
"Then... I must ask Miss Yun to be generous and bestow this prescription upon us." Grandpa cupped his fists in salute.
"Master is too polite." With that, Yun Caiwei glided gracefully to her feet, picked up a writing brush, dipped it fully in ink, and after a moment of thought, penned the medicinal formula on paper in an exquisite slender gold calligraphy style.
Upon examining it, Grandpa broke into repeated praises—first marveling at the miraculous nature of the prescription, and second admiring the strength and beauty of the handwriting.
At that moment, the Third Leader delivered the latest news: the child had been successfully revived, though he was still crying out in terror about "ghosts."
The weight hanging in Grandpa's chest finally settled. As long as the boy was alive, everything else could be managed.
Early the next morning, Grandpa set off for the police department.
After stating his identity and name, Grandpa was brought before Cai Xuezhong.
"Grandpa, charging you with the crimes of swindling through superstition and endangering lives this time—you have no objections, do you?" Cai Xuezhong sneered craftily.
"Captain Cai is joking. Under Captain Cai's jurisdiction, all demons and monsters are made to show their true forms; who would ever dare dabble in superstitious trickery?"
"Ho... this hardly sounds like something Grandpa would say. A grand master, renowned across China—you wouldn't want to ruin your own reputation, would you?"
"Heh. Captain Cai, your humble servant has come here today to see if Captain Cai might show some leniency and find a way to accommodate us..."
"Accommodate? Human lives are at stake here; tell me how we are supposed to accommodate that?"
Thinking for a moment, Grandpa said, "I guarantee I will cure the injured child. Furthermore, I will compensate the family with a sum of money. As for my second disciple, his skills were lacking and he nearly cost a life; the state has its laws, so it would do no harm to lock him up for a few days before reaching a final verdict..."
"Hahaha." Cai Xuezhong laughed. "That child woke up—I know. But Grandpa, you better think carefully; his waking up is only temporary... Even if he returns home fully recovered, there's no guarantee he won't suddenly suffer a relapse and die. Cases like that aren't exactly uncommon, are they?"
Knowing full well the Guomindang's tactics of using borrowed knives to kill and framing others, Grandpa hurriedly retrieved a stack of banknotes from his sleeve, slipped them over quietly, and smiled: "We've already prepared this for you. Therefore, I must still trouble Captain Cai to offer extra protection—protecting the peace and stability of the common folk in my district."
Cai Xuezhong's eyeballs spun wildly in their sockets before he broke into a sinister grin: "Heh. Easily said, easily said. A master is indeed a master! See how simple that makes things! Running a police department isn't easy; hundreds of mouths need to eat and drink, yet operational funds never get allocated down. One minute we're arresting Red bandits, the next we're catching thieves; someone's arguing over family matters, or Wang Eryazi stole a donkey's wooden yoke... Is it chaotic or not, you tell me, Grandpa?"
"Indeed, indeed. Who across this entire city of Shanghai does not know that Captain Cai labors tirelessly and achieves great merits? I'm not flattering you, Captain—people everywhere say that half the sky over Shanghai is held up by Captain Cai. If your cloud doesn't rain, the common folk are left to dry out..."
"Aiya. I wasn't deliberately trying to cause trouble for Grandpa. But when people carry a sick patient straight to your fortune-telling establishment and kick up such a huge uproar, if I didn't step in to manage it, the common folk would curse us out!"
"Quite right! Captain Cai is truly serving the people."
Cai Xuezhong finally gave Grandpa a long look and said, "Cure that child for them immediately and throw some money at them to shut their mouths. As for your second disciple, I'll issue a disciplinary notice, and in a few days you can come take him back—just tell him to keep a lower profile."
"Captain Cai's great kindness is something this humble servant will never forget."
"After all, we're family! You're an anti-Japanese master and a talent of the Party and State; it's just that humble me holds a lowly position and isn't worthy of catching Grandpa's eye."
"How could you say that! How could you say that! Please forgive me for any misunderstandings in the past, Captain Cai."
"Easily said, easily said. Let's make sure we visit each other frequently from now on."
That phrase "visit each other frequently" ensured that Grandpa's monthly protection money doubled, continuing all the way until the People's Liberation Army entered Shanghai; every single month, Grandpa had to pay tribute to Cai Xuezhong.
Yun Caiwei's prescription proved truly miraculous: the boy's wandering-soul illness gradually faded away, and the Second Leader was released as well.
"Did you take any beatings in there?" Grandpa asked the Second Leader.
"I did."
"Feel good?"
The Second Leader's face flushed crimson: "Grandpa, I was wrong. The reason I didn't tell Grandpa beforehand was because I felt that barging into Grandpa's room that day and frightening that mark had caused trouble for Grandpa, and I wanted to quietly achieve a merit on my own to redeem my mistakes."
"Merit you achieved none; instead, you compounded your error."
"I have failed Grandpa. This business has surely smeared Grandpa's reputation..."
Grandpa slowly shook his head, picked up the newspaper on the table, and handed it to the Third Leader: "Third Brother, read this aloud to him..."
Taking the paper, the Third Leader read aloud: "A Shanghai boy possessed by a ghost; the number one master of Jianghuai steps forth to render aid. After over twenty days of spiritual combat between man and ghost, the boy recovers, leaving the populace in awe of the Iron-Plate Master's miraculous abilities..."
As he listened, the Second Leader slowly raised his head and broke into a grin: "Even this could be whitewashed? Grandpa is amazing!"
"It was whitewashed. Only, Grandpa had to give his most beloved pocket watch to Wu Junrun from the newspaper agency!" the Third Leader added.
"Ah, I have truly failed Grandpa." The Second Leader was overcome with a fresh wave of self-reproach.
Grandpa stood up and said, "Let this matter be considered closed. Second Leader, listen well: if you ever dare to act arbitrarily on your own accord again, I will show you zero mercy!"
"I wouldn't dare do it again!"
The housekeeper Wu Laoer walked in: "Grandpa, Sixth Brother and the others are requesting an audience."
Little Sixth and the others had returned.