The fortieth year of Hongxuan, Great Wei.
Shangjing City, late summer.
Last night brought lightning and thunder accompanied by a torrential downpour. Early this morning, however, a glaring sun beat straight down onto the earth. In no time at all, the puddles among the brick walls and tiled alleys vanished, leaving the parched ground looking as though last night’s violent storm had never happened.
Funing Street carried its usual bustling atmosphere, except that the shop assistants and bosses along this street seemed rather lacking in energy.
The assistant at the “Have Another Bowl” noodle stall by the roadside finished setting up his stall, propped one foot on a long bench beside the table, and bore two thick, dark circles under his eyes on a small, sharp-featured face, adding a touch of cuteness to his monkey-like appearance.
Other shops and stalls were also beginning to open one after another to welcome guests.
“Boss, give me a bowl of beef noodles, extra-wide and in a large bowl!”
“Coming right up!”
Hearing only a rough voice from behind him, the assistant quickly and nimbly sprang to his feet, grabbed the long cloth draped over his shoulder to dust off the bench, and said, “Please have a seat, sir. A large bowl of wide noodles will be right here.”
The middle-aged man eating the noodles was dressed similarly to the assistant, looking very much like someone who had just entered the city to deliver goods and was eager to eat a bowl of noodles before hurrying back home.
After a short while, the assistant brought over a steaming bowl of beef noodles. The man received the bowl with both hands and complained, “Boss, is there some special day today? Why did everyone open so late today, leaving someone like me starving since early this morning! If your noodle stall hadn’t opened a bit early, who knows what time I’d make it home today!”
Raising his eyes to see that the customer was dressed just like him, the assistant understood immediately. Thinking back on last night, he still felt a lingering fear as he said, “You wouldn’t understand, elder brother, but the heavens were crying a funeral dirge last night! It scared all of us so much that we didn’t dare sleep!”
Hearing this, the middle-aged man’s eyes widened, and the noodles he had just brought to his mouth dropped back down. “The heavens crying a funeral dirge? Whose family member died?”
The shop assistant clicked his tongue a couple of times in pity, regret and heartbreak dripping from his expression. “Alas! Young Master Mei from right here on Funing Street passed away last night! Last night’s thunder and lightning felt as though they wanted to tear a hole straight through the sky, but even with that roaring rain, it couldn’t drown out the sound of mourning coming from the Mei residence. It made little old me…”
Recalling the scene from the previous night, the assistant could not help but shiver all over before continuing, “It made me want to cry, too. Such a handsome man Young Master Mei was, only eighteen years old this year. To leave us at such a young age… Lord Mei has only this one son. It is simply too tragic!”
Hearing this, the middle-aged man also sighed. Dying at such a tender age was already lamentable enough, but hearing that the family line had now been cut off meant there was nothing left to look forward to in the future. Still, none of this could overcome the temptation of pure curiosity. “Did this young master of the Mei family succumb to some incurable disease?”
Before the assistant could reply, quite a few onlookers who had overheard the conversation crowded closer to watch the excitement, and one of them spoke up first: “Incurable disease, my foot! He was beaten to death!”
“Ah! Beaten to death?”
“Who is so vicious? Beating someone to life-threatening extremes? Surely the Mei family hasn’t offended someone!”
“Nonsense! Lord Mei is the Libationer of the Imperial Academy, and his students fill the imperial court. Who would dare?”
“That is hard to say. This is Shangjing, right under the emperor’s feet. What kind of noble families are not around? He probably offended the wrong person.”
The people who gathered round talked over one another, arguing endlessly and debating whether Lord Mei had committed too many sins, resulting in retribution falling upon his son!
The noodle stall owner, holding a pair of long chopsticks in one hand and a straining ladle in the other, strode out menacingly and roared, “If you bastards keep running your mouths with nonsense, I will tear your mouths apart!”
The owner was a middle-aged man with a flesh-bound face and sturdy limbs. Stunned into instant silence by his furious shout, the crowd collectively turned to look at him.
Seeing that the owner’s eyes were bloodshot and his lips were tightly pressed together, clearly struggling to endure, he took a moment to regain his control before speaking with bitter indignation: “Young Master Mei was accidentally killed by barbarians during a martial arts tournament. Lord Mei is a man of noble character and lofty integrity who treats the common folk of Funing Street with great courtesy. Now that Lord Mei is suffering the grief of losing a son in his old age, we people of Funing Street will never allow anyone to speak ill of Lord Mei!”
“That is right! Lord Mei is such a good man, how could he have offended anyone? Are you gossips not afraid of retribution?”
“Older Brother Zhu is right! Whoever dares gossip again can get lost and clear out of Funing Street!”
Hearing the commotion, other vendors and merchants from Funing Street also joined in.
The assistant who had just been eating his noodles lowered his head to quietly finish his meal, all the while muttering to himself: I did not say a thing.
Glancing at his boss’s fiercely glaring, round eyes, the assistant hurriedly slipped away to the side. The bystanders, feeling that the fun was over, intended to scatter.
Suddenly, a procession of people marched down the avenue ahead. As they drew closer, it turned out to be a group of Daoist priests. Leading the front was a relatively older young Daoist, while in the middle, an eight-bearer sedan chair carried someone else. An elderly Daoist sat inside with his eyes closed, his hair completely white, chanting incantations under his breath while holding a horsetail whisk crooked in his arm. Several young Daoists around twelve or thirteen years old followed closely behind.
The group passed right by the noodle stall and headed straight toward the Mei residence, scattering funerary paper money all along their path.
Once the priests had passed, the rest of the crowd dispersed as well.
At the entrance of the Mei residence, white mourning banners hung from the high plaque, and even the stone lions on either side were draped in white. The steward stood at the gate dressed in mourning attire to greet guests. A continuous stream of people came to offer condolences, grief hanging heavily on every face.
Spotting the group of Daoist priests appearing not far from the estate gates, the steward immediately broke into a run back inside. Within the time it takes to brew half a cup of tea, Lord Mei led a portion of his family members out to the entrance to welcome them. The Daoist master in the sedan chair dismounted with the support of young Daoist disciples.
Overnight, Lord Mei’s hair had turned white and his spine had bent. His eyes were so swollen he could barely see the path ahead. Although he shed no tears in public, there was no telling how many times he had wept in private, and Madam Mei had already fainted by the coffin several times.
“Thank you, Daoist Master Wuyouzi, for personally coming to perform the liberation rite for my little son!”
Supported by the steward, Lord Mei slowly bowed to the Daoist master before him.
Wuyouzi bent forward to return a Daoist greeting. “Lord Mei, please grieve with restraint. I will surely perform the rites for your esteemed son, and he will undoubtedly ascend to the Paradise of Ultimate Bliss and suffer no more.”
Tears instantly welled up in Lord Mei’s eyes, his back trembling. Thinking of his son’s tragic and youthful death, and how he had only gained a child in his old age only to watch the white-haired bury the black-haired, he wondered why heaven had singled him out for such mortal misery!
“The Daoist master’s reputation is renowned far and wide. I entrust everything to you, Master!”
Suppressing his grief, Lord Mei guided the group of Daoist priests into the main hall before the mourning altar. There were far too many guests coming to offer condolences within the estate, and the courtyard was piled high with all kinds of paper horses and white funeral banners bearing inscribed elegies.
Before the coffin, Madam Mei wore mourning clothes as she leaned against her eldest and second daughters, her eyes hollow and devoid of spirit as though her three souls and seven physical spirits had been sucked away. Her other four daughters wore mourning caps and burned paper money before the coffin of their only brother, weeping softly.
The appearance of the elderly Daoist holding a horsetail whisk immediately drew the attention of everyone in the courtyard. Legend had it that Elder Wuyouzi was fast approaching immortality and could ferry all the wandering souls of this world. Who among the princes, nobles, and high-ranking official families in Shangjing did not know of him?
Yet Daoist Master Wuyouzi rarely ventured out of seclusion, and ordinary noble households could never afford his appearance fees. It seemed Lord Mei truly possessed a formidable network of connections to have actually invited Daoist Master Wuyouzi.
Without wasting a single moment, Wuyouzi began performing rituals the moment he entered the mourning hall, circling the coffin once before chanting incantations back and forth around the perimeter of the room. He muttered unintelligibly under his breath, and though no one could understand what he was saying, the guests marveled at how today, thanks to Young Master Mei’s blessing, they were able to witness an immortal practicing magic.
Watching Wuyouzi gesticulate wildly, he suddenly snatched up a white funeral candle from before the altar, turned around, and thrust the burning candle straight into the coffin!
Because friends and family were still paying their respects, the coffin had not yet been sealed. Wuyouzi’s sudden action terrified the onlookers, who thought he was about to set fire to the corpse!
Fortunately, though Lord Mei gave a violent start, he ultimately managed to restrain the wailing Madam Mei. His six daughters also shrieked in terror! Although the rest of the household did not react quite as strongly, they were nonetheless deeply shaken.
The coffin was deep and wide. Although the sun shone brightly outside, the room was heavily blocked off by white cloth and funeral banners, making it quite dim inside. Raising the candle high, Wuyouzi illuminated the entire interior of the coffin.
Inside lay a person resting quietly as though fast asleep. Their complexion lacked the waxen yellow of a corpse; long eyelashes and fair skin radiated the youthful vigor of a teenage boy. Wuyouzi was startled by the youth’s handsome features inside the coffin, countless thoughts of pity and regret bubbling up in his heart. Gathering his composure, Wuyouzi swept the light from the face to the feet, then back from the feet to the face two or three times while continuously chanting the Rebirth Mantra under his breath.
Toward the end, Wuyouzi casually swayed the candle in his hand up and down, clearly having no idea what to do next. Still, thinking of the hefty sum of silver he would earn for this hijacked business, the corners of his mouth could not help curving upward.
Down below, the spectators suspected that Daoist Master Wuyouzi must be chatting with Young Master Mei’s ghost right now!
Just as this fake Wuyouzi was daydreaming about his lovely silver, grinning from ear to ear while randomly swaying the white candle, the corpse inside the coffin suddenly opened its eyes!
Wuyouzi’s hand froze with the candle, thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him. He blinked hard, moved the candle away in silence, and then slowly brought it back, his hands trembling uncontrollably, his heart pounding like a drum.
And the moment he moved it back:
Those eyes really were open, dammit! And they were staring right at him with a wide-open, piercing gaze!
With a scream that pierced the heavens, laced with a miserable edge:
In the blink of an eye, Wuyouzi bolted straight out of the mourning hall and past the estate gates, vanishing without a trace in a flash.
His parting cry echoed through the air: “A corpse has risen! Help!”
Clueless as to what had happened, the guests, upon hearing the words that a corpse had risen, scattered like a flock of startled birds, rushing into the courtyard as if they had seen a ghost.
The group of fake Daoist priests left behind also fled in all directions, losing their leader and taking the chance of the chaos to make a sneaky escape.
As for the six young ladies of the Mei family, they crowded tightly around Madam Mei, hugging their mother with terror written across their faces.
Madam Mei was equally shocked. After a brief moment of reaction, she rasped in a hoarse voice, “Do not be afraid. He is your brother, your closest kin!”
Lord Mei stood stunned for a moment. Meeting Madam Mei’s gaze, he immediately sprinted toward the side of the coffin. Staring in disbelief at the son who had been dead for an entire night, and seeing that his eyes were indeed wide open, Lord Mei felt his legs go weak. If he had to admit one truth in that single instant, his terror had completely overwhelmed his joy.
After a long pause, Lord Mei roared at the steward: “Fetch a physician!”
The guests in the courtyard scattered in a chaotic stampede, running no slower than Wuyouzi had.