Generally speaking, regardless of what a soul’s obsession is, it arises from reluctance, unwillingness, and refusal to let go after death. The experiences at the moment of death will, to some extent, form a part of that obsession.
However, in Zhao Bin’s “Saha Realm,” there was no such related scene. Could it be that he had forgotten how he died?
“I remember he died during my third year of junior high school,” Song Huaiyan murmured.
“What was the cause?” Shen Yu asked.
“It is said that during a gang fight and brawl, he was slashed three times and died of his injuries,” Song Huaiyan recalled. “This matter was the talk of the town back then. Although I only heard about it, I was deeply impressed.”
“Zhao Bin was a legend among students. He was tall, and he almost never lost a fight. Although he was involved with gangs, he valued loyalty, had principles, and never did anything truly wicked. His death was also quite sigh-worthy. It is said that he had a girlfriend at the time and planned to wash his hands of the underworld and quit, but right when a gang turf war broke out, his former brothers dragged him along to hold down the fort. In the end, over twenty people were injured, and only he died.”
After finishing, Song Huaiyan looked thoughtful and turned to Shen Yu. “Let’s head out first. Close your eyes.”
Shen Yu felt the intangible red thread at his fingertips seem to twitch, followed by a faint, crisp sound of copper coins colliding near his ear. When he opened his eyes again, they had returned to the Hall of All Matters, where Zhao Bin was still sitting with his eyes closed like a wooden puppet.
Song Huaiyan opened his five fingers, white spiritual light scattering from his palm, and gently pressed it down upon Zhao Bin’s head.
A moment later, he opened his eyes, his expression solemn. “Just as I thought. Of his three souls and seven (corporeal souls), one soul is missing.”
This must have been what caused his soul consciousness to remain chaotic and kept him from entering the cycle of reincarnation for over a decade.
“We need to find his missing soul?” Shen Yu turned to look at him.
“Mm,” Song Huaiyan nodded. “Only when the soul is complete can the obsession be resolved and reincarnation entered.”
“Where did he die?”
“Right near the town’s high school.”
Song Huaiyan placed another paper talisman on Zhao Bin, looked out at the rain that was still falling, and said, “This rain should stop in a little while.”
“Do you hate the rain?” Shen Yu suddenly looked into his eyes.
Song Huaiyan paused in surprise, then shook his head with a faint, ambiguous smile. “I used to like it quite a bit.”
Shen Yu didn’t understand what he meant, but he didn’t ask any further either.
Song Huaiyan felt that Shen Yu had spoken quite a bit more today and wanted to chat with him a bit more, but for a moment, he didn’t know what to talk about.
The two waited under the corridor for a while until the rain finally stopped. Song Huaiyan headed out carrying the black umbrella, and Shen Yu naturally followed along beside him.
The town’s high school and junior high school were built facing each other, separated by a relatively wide concrete road. Walking westward along this road for nearly twenty minutes, Song Huaiyan came to a halt.
“This is where the incident happened back then, though this road should have been resurfaced recently it’s much wider and smoother now.”
It had just rained, and there were still some shallow puddles of water on the road surface.
As Song Huaiyan stepped forward step by step, the crisp sound of colliding copper coins rang out around them, spreading outward like waves of invisible soundwaves.
Then, Shen Yu saw a squatting figure abruptly appear by the roadside.
Song Huaiyan put away the copper coins, walked up to the person, and squatted down. The squatting figure raised his head somewhat mechanically, a pair of eyes suffused with a grayish-white, chaotic haze. There was a scar across his brow bone that had severed his brow peak.
It was as if he saw Song Huaiyan and Shen Yu, yet it was also as if he didn’t see them at all. He rolled his eyes, stood up, and circled around the muddy ground by his feet.
“Found it, found it…” he muttered repeatedly, seeming to harbor a feeling of joy, though his stiff face could no longer express it.
He wore a black sleeveless undershirt, and his abdomen bore three shocking bloody holes from which dark red blood was still seeping.
Song Huaiyan narrowed his eyes slightly and suddenly asked Shen Yu, “Junior Brother, what do you think he is looking for?”
Shen Yu answered without hesitation: “Protection money.”
Song Huaiyan smiled slightly. “Junior Brother is truly clever.”
He walked up to Zhao Bin and looked down again at the muddy ground beneath his feet. “Right here, is it?”
Zhao Bin nodded mechanically. Song Huaiyan squatted down and used a short tree branch to scrape away the wet mud bit by bit. Soon, they dug out what they had in mind.
An old-fashioned Hero fountain pen with a dark green barrel and a silver-white cap had been buried underground for many years. The silver portion had rusted, but the two characters “Hero” engraved on it were still faintly visible.
Song Huaiyan picked up the fountain pen, took out a tissue to wipe it clean, and handed it to Zhao Bin, saying gently, “Found it. It’s time to go back.”
Zhao Bin raised his left hand, his stiff fingertips trembling as they touched the fountain pen. Song Huaiyan saw a deeply sunken scar on his forearm, symmetrical front and back, which should have been caused by a piercing wound.
“Found it…” Zhao Bin’s voice was blurry. “It wasn’t lost…”
His cloudy eyes moved, and then his figure turned into white light, attaching itself to the fountain pen.
At the very instant he came into contact with this soul, the scenes of Zhao Bin’s death flashed rapidly through the minds of both men.
The moonlight that night was very bright, making the dim lights appear all the more feeble.
“A-Liang! Don’t be rash!” Zhao Bin grabbed a short, yellow-haired teenager from the midst of the chaotic melee. “Did you forget what you promised me?”
At this moment, the short A-Liang looked like a furious beast, his eyes stained entirely red with blood. “I’ll kill them! I must kill those animals!”
“Trust your brother. Brother will get justice back for you. Don’t let them incite you! They just want to goad you into making a move!” Zhao Bin pulled him, trying to drag him toward the outer fringe of the crowd, and yelled at the top of his lungs for the fighters in the melee to stop.
Yet the cries of battle drowned out everything.
A-Liang broke free from his restraint and rushed into the crowd. A long blade fell from behind him. Zhao Bin kicked the man flying, only to see another blade slashing toward him from his left. Instinctively, he used his left hand to grab the person’s wrist, but his arm temporarily lacked the strength to exert force.
Amidst that momentary hesitation, a long blade stabbed directly into his abdomen.
The person opposite seemed not to have expected to land a hit, and in his panic, he pulled the blade back, standing frozen in place, frightened out of his wits. Zhao Bin staggered a step, his knees crashing heavily onto the ground. With a “clang,” something fell out of his trouser pocket.
Instinctively frowning, he bent over to pick it up, only for another blade to pierce through him from behind.
Seeing this scene upon turning back, A-Liang felt his eyes split with fury, and he screamed as he rushed toward him. Yet this impulsive, skinny teenager overlooked the danger lunging at him from behind.
He grabbed Zhao Bin’s hand, wanting to pull him up, but Zhao Bin pushed him hard toward the side instead, and then that dazzling, glaring blade-light fell upon him once more.
Zhao Bin felt a familiar, overwhelming wave of dizziness wash over him. He watched the high-hanging, cold moon gradually get swallowed up by darkness.
Inside the Hall of All Matters, Song Huaiyan and Shen Yu once again entered the Saha Realm.
“Since it’s an obsession, how can it be resolved so easily?” Shen Yu asked indifferently.
“Dream weaving,” Song Huaiyan replied with an ambiguous smile.
As they spoke, the white fog before their eyes slowly dissipated, and Zhao Bin’s figure gradually became clear. His three souls and seven corporeal souls had returned to their proper places; his eyes were no longer chaotic, and the fountain pen in his hand seemed to bear all his past and sorrow.
“You’ve found it,” Song Huaiyan’s gaze was gentle, carrying a trace of imperceptible sorrow in his tone. “But is what you’re looking for really just this?”
Zhao Bin stared fixedly at the fountain pen in his hand, suddenly turning bewildered again, shifting from bewilderment to determination, and finally returning to calmness. His voice trembled slightly, carrying hesitation: “Is he… doing well?”
“Why have you… always been afraid to look for him?” Song Huaiyan’s gaze grew increasingly profound, as if able to pierce straight into Zhao Bin’s inner heart.
“He and I… are different…” Zhao Bin lowered his head, his voice low, sounding as though he were talking to himself.
“You are no different from him.” Song Huaiyan’s voice was as gentle as water. “Zhao Bin, you can have dreams too.”
“Isn’t his future precisely what you longed for?”
Song Huaiyan stepped closer to him step by step.
“What you need to retrieve includes yourself as well.”
“I…” Zhao Bin’s mouth was half-open, his eye rims red, yet he could no longer speak.
Song Huaiyan gently raised his hand, and an octagonal revolving lantern meticulously crafted from white paper materialized in his palm.
Looking at the solitary soul that had drifted in the mortal world for over a dozen years, he sighed softly: “The floating life temporarily lodges in a dream within a dream, worldly affairs are heard like wind within the wind. Zhao Bin, may you have a good dream.”
The revolving lantern emitted a soft white light, slowly spinning. Zhao Bin’s soul gradually dissipated, transforming into countless glossy white butterflies that swirled and danced. With the spot where he had just stood as the center, the surrounding scenery also began to spin, and this realm became like a massive revolving lantern as patches of white butterflies flew into the walls, causing the surrounding imagery to spring into motion.
Song Huaiyan and Shen Yu stood at the center of the revolving lantern, a new scroll of time flowing past before their eyes.
In the blazing heat of summer, amidst the sounds of cicadas humming, a skinny little boy walked past an alley with his schoolbag on his back, when someone called out to him from behind.
“Hey, little bean sprout! You dropped your things!”
The boy turned his head to see a tall boy waving at him, holding his fountain pen in his hand.
“What grade are you in? Can you already use a fountain pen to write?” The tall boy ran up to him quickly, shoved the fountain pen into his hand, and naturally slung an arm over his shoulder. “Is your home in that direction? We’re heading the same way let’s do our homework together after school from now on, alright?”
The boy lowered his head and said nothing, but the tall boy didn’t seem to mind. He patted his shoulder and grinned. “My academic grades are super good. If there’s anything you don’t know, your big brother will teach you, okay?”
The tall teenager was noisy and boisterous, while the short boy was quiet and still. Even though they met by chance and had completely different personalities, they walked this very road together for a full two years.
Afterward, the two went to different junior high schools in the city. Xu Jiachen would occasionally write letters to Zhao Bin, and Zhao Bin would always reply directly via phone calls, loudly chattering away about the trivial matters of his classmates and bragging about his ranking in the grade exams. On weekends, it always happened coincidentally that they would take the hour-and-a-half bus ride home together; during summer vacation, they would like-mindedly go to the library to do homework, and on New Year’s Eve when there was nowhere to go for the New Year, Zhao Bin would go set off fireworks downstairs at Xu Jiachen’s apartment building.
Later on, they were admitted to different city high schools, and later still, they were admitted to universities in different provinces, traveling to opposite corners of the country and bustling about their separate ways.
Three years into working, Zhao Bin returned to the elementary school and met Xu Jiachen, who had just finished teaching his students. He hadn’t changed much from before white shirt, black-rimmed glasses, still carrying a scholarly aura.
“Xu Jiachen, long time no see.”
Zhao Bin wore a black old-style undershirt, with his freshly removed suit jacket slung over his arm, and his lips curved into his signature grin that revealed his canine teeth.
Then the entire revolving lantern slowly shattered, and the fluttering scraps of paper also turned into white butterflies, ultimately dissipating into the wind.
The summer cicadas’ hum sang year after year amidst the footsteps of the youths walking side by side.
The red thread in Song Huaiyan’s hand faded away. Shen Yu followed him out of the Saha Realm. Inside the Hall of All Matters, Zhao Bin’s soul was no longer there, leaving only the curling white smoke on the incense table that had yet to completely disperse.
Song Huaiyan wrote Zhao Bin’s name on a yellow paper talisman and burned the talisman to ashes before letting out a soft breath.
He turned to look at Shen Yu and explained, “A farewell ceremony.”
Shen Yu looked at the various types of paper-crafted funeral offerings placed around the inner hall and stopped in front of a paper-crafted revolving lantern.
“Lanterns reflect Nanke’s dream of a single moment, the floating life’s illusionary realm brings joy for half a day.” Song Huaiyan walked forward alongside it, picked up the revolving lantern, and spun it gently a few times, causing the lantern to rotate. “This revolving lantern is called ‘Reflecting Nanke.’ In the Saha Realm, using this lantern as a medium and copper coins as a guide, one can weave a dream belonging solely to the deceased.”
“Why weave such a dream for him?”
Shen Yu had asked many questions today, and Song Huaiyan answered every single one of them without holding back, remaining almost entirely unreserved.
“I vaguely remember that Zhao Bin’s parents died early, and he was raised by his grandfather. In the third and fourth grades, his academic performance was very good, winning math olympiad awards year after year. But later, because he ran a high fever and didn’t receive timely medical treatment, although he didn’t become mentally disabled, his memory deteriorated, and he forgot most of what he had previously learned. He was held back a grade for two years, and ultimately, after his grandfather passed away, he gave up his studies.”
Saying this, Song Huaiyan paused slightly, feeling a touch of emotional reflection.
“So, upon seeing Xu Jiachen attempting suicide, he must have seen a reflection of his own shadow in him to some extent.”
“Dream weaving, resolving the obsession, and then what?” Shen Yu pressed further, his voice as low as an echo from an ancient well.
“His soul wandered in the mortal world for too long. By untangling his obsession for him, he can let go of the myriad ties of the mortal realm and enter reincarnation for rebirth,” Song Huaiyan said in a gentle tone, sounding like spring water.
Hearing this, however, Shen Yu merely looked at him, his grayish-green eyes as deep as an abyssal sea. He slowly stepped closer, meeting his gaze directly, and asked: “And what about you?”
“Have you entered the cycle of reincarnation?”