Chapter 25

After returning home, I made a simple nether jade using talismans and a jade pendant, intending to use the soul-summoning banner to draw Red Grandma into it, then drip blood to strike the mysterious taboo into it.

Containers for raising ghosts are either special bottles or coffins made of gloomy wood; I have neither, and the coffin would need to be custom-made. So I can only make a nether jade using talismans and a jade pendant.

Jade is a thing rich in spiritual energy, also able to absorb the spiritual energy of heaven and earth to nourish people; after a little talisman treatment, it can also become a medium for the flow of yin energy. In ancient times, some Daoists did not want to collect one or two little ghosts to spoil their inherited magical implements, so they would temporarily seal the little ghosts with the magical implement, then use a jade pendant to make a nether conduit, to transfer them elsewhere.

Similarly, the jade pendant can serve as a nether conduit to transfer spirits; with only a slight modification, it can naturally become a temporary nether jade for containing spirits.

However, this nether jade has limited capacity and cannot forever seal spirits; but I only need a period of buffer time to allow me to make the coffin.

When establishing the contract, Red Grandma repeatedly asked me several times, asking whether I had promised her that, once she found a disciple, I would release her.

I nodded and solemnly told her: 'As soon as you find a disciple, I will immediately let you go.' To be honest, deep down I really wanted her to leave, so I could save on the incense oil expenses for offerings.

Only after I had sworn the oath did Red Grandma drip her blood, allowing me to strike the taboo onto her. This taboo is what my Yin Mountain Sect uses to control yin spirits; once the taboo is struck, it means that I and the spirit soldiers are linked by blood. Unless I release her or I die, the spirit soldiers will forever remain under my control. This is also why Red Grandma kept asking me repeatedly, fearing that one day she might want to leave but I would refuse, leaving her unable to speak.

Not long after, QingSongShu also returned from elsewhere. The two of us told him what had happened at Meigu's house, especially when mentioning the slaying of the evil god; QingSongShu merely nodded and said: 'Killing one ghost can save a living person—this is no sin, but merit. When it's time to strike, do not be pedantic; when you decide to cut, cut.'

His words amounted to agreeing with my approach, except that Pangzi's thick skull doesn't get it; he still insists that when encountering evil spirits in the future, it's better to perform a crossing-over ritual and send them away.

In response, I gave him a glance: 'Crossing over, crossing over—if we encounter a vengeful spirit with extremely heavy resentment, we'd likely lose our lives; what's the point of crossing over then?'

I thought that from now on, it would be better for Pangzi and me to work separately, since our methods of doing things differ and are hard to reconcile.

Bored and idle, I played a round of poker, then went back inside to continue swallowing talismans for cultivation.

The next day, Pangzi and I returned to school.

Originally, university management was lax—attendance was up to you, as long as you passed the exams. But Pangzi said she was preparing to give flowers to Silijing today, and asked me to go with him to bolster his courage.

Unable to resist Pangzi, I could only go along with him, but I had already prepared myself to accompany him in making a fool of ourselves.

Arriving at the flower shop, I once again looked down on Pangzi, because he had actually bought roses...

Although roses resemble roses, they are fundamentally not of the same class, and their price differs by almost tenfold. Everyone knows that in mythology, the rose embodies passion and love, and its floral language also represents passion and affection. One should give roses to a lover.

But now Pangzi has actually bought roses that are several grades lower than roses, which really forces me to despise his stinginess.

Faced with my contempt, Pangzi shot me a glance and retorted contemptuously: 'Illiterate, you don't know shit. Do you know I have a tiger in my heart, delicately sniffing the rose?'

I said I certainly know; this is from the British poet Siegfried Sassoon's poem, the full poem being: 'Negotiating, each taking turns, myriad desires in chaotic profusion, plundering my present, reason slain upon its throne, my love leaps over future barriers, dreams liberated, feet dancing.'

To me, the cave-dweller seizes the prophet Apollo wearing a flower garland, who sings into Abraham's deaf ear: 'My heart harbors a tiger delicately sniffing the rose, examine my soul, dear friend, you should tremble, for that is your true self.'

After hearing me recite the poem, Pangzi again countered: 'Then do you know what it means that I have a tiger in my heart, delicately sniffing the rose?'

I rolled my eyes: 'Anyway, it's not edible, so I don't care what it means.'

Next, Pangzi told me the following story.

"In a time long ago, a tiger lived in the forest, his name was Dage. From childhood he grew up in this forest's wild thickets, learning to slaughter other beasts to survive and fill his belly."

"But one day he grew weary, feeling this was not the life he wanted; his heart told him that something far away was calling him, that was what he awaited, his destiny."

"Thus Dage set out, following the call of his heart, crossing mountains and ridges to seek answers. He had countless times his feet lacerated by thorns, chased by prides of lions, bitten by wolf packs, his wounds piled up, yet he never abandoned his resolve."

"Until… on a night of pouring rain, Dage dragged his scarred body to a place battered by wind and rain, almost rotted, a ruined wall. He licked his wounds, those inflicted when he clashed with the wolf pack over prey, clawed by the wolves."

"On his leg there was a bowl-sized gap, where a hunting dog had bitten off a chunk of flesh from his foreleg. Once, the king of beasts, outnumbered, had shifted from hunter to wounded prey."

"Eroded by rain, Dage's body ached and grew cold. He sought a place to shelter from the rain, but hobbling with his wounded body he searched the vicinity in vain, finding no refuge. Eventually he gave up, drooping his head, honestly squatting in the corner, battered by the gale and drenched by the downpour."

"Dawn came, the rain ceased. When the first slant of sunlight struck Dage's face, he slowly opened his heavy eyelids. Before his eyes appeared a white little flower, its petals bearing crystal-clear dew drops. It was a rose, right beneath his tiger's body."

"Dage grew curious; he lowered his head and gently brushed his nose against the rose. Instantly, an unprecedented fragrance intoxicated his spirit. He felt his heart grow ever more tranquil and peaceful. At the same time, the calling within his heart intensified."

"He forgot fatigue, forgot all past slaughter; he felt that being with this rose, he would never feel tired."

"At that moment, Dage knew he had finally found what he sought, and had finally heard the call that had arisen in his heart at that time."

"After finishing the story, Pangzi continued with feeling: 'The claws of the king of beasts can tear everything apart, intimidate all directions; facing foes he never holds back, only strength and weakness exist, no reason or virtue, incessant conquest, tireless domination—but such lofty, grand ambition can also be drawn to, subdued by that weak rose in the corner, forgetting fatigue, bowing his head, quietly, gently sniffing the fragrance the rose emits.'"

"Everyone's heart harbors a tiger, or is itself a tiger; when you climb over layer upon layer of mountains, cross deserts scarcely inhabited, trek through forests where the far end cannot be seen, even if your body is covered in wounds, if you encounter the rose of your heart, everything is worthwhile. Drop the pretense, reveal your true self, reveal the tenderness within, quietly cherish that rose; without a rose, the tiger remains merely a brute. My heart holds a tiger, delicately sniffing the rose—if the tiger stands for strength, then the rose stands for gentleness; if the tiger represents a man, then the rose represents the woman he loves most."

"Having said that, Pangzi picked up a rose, held it to his nose, and gently inhaled, his face blissful."

"The tiger named Dage that Pangzi spoke of is actually himself; after Silijing once called Pangzi an idiot, Pangzi gave himself the nickname Dage."

"After hearing Pangzi's story, my heart suddenly felt a mix of emotions, hard to bear. 'Tiger sniffing rose'—what a noble saying—yet Pangzi has already found the rose of his life, while mine? Where is my rose? I am one cursed with the character 'lonely', a disciple of the Jue sect, destined to be alone and helpless in this life. When I love someone, it also means I will harm them. Moreover, I am blind in one eye—who would look upon me!"

"Pangzi shoved me and asked, 'What's wrong with you?'"

"I came to from my daze, covering up by saying, 'Nothing, I just wanted to laugh, but I was afraid of hurting your tender heart, so I held it in.'"

"Pangzi asked again, 'Why do you want to laugh?'"

"I said, 'Don't you think a 150‑catty Pangzi delicately sniffing a rose is rather comical? This isn't a tiger sniffing a rose—it's a fat tiger bullying the rose…'"

"'Holy shit, you're insulting my sincere feelings for Sister Jingjing!' Pangzi bared his teeth and claws, lunging at me."

"'Ah, your dream lover has appeared…' At the critical moment, I saw Silijing walk out of the school gate."

"Upon hearing that Silijing had come out, Pangzi immediately tossed me aside, clutching the flowers, and waddled over excitedly."

"I stood far off to the side, not wanting to disturb them. It's strange: at first they chatted happily, seeming to have a chance, but within less than half an hour Silijing left in anger, her face flushed, clearly having been greatly provoked by Pangzi."

"Not long after Silijing left, Pangzi returned, listless and dejected."

"I stepped forward and asked him, 'Pangzi, could it be that Teacher Zhao just came out of the toilet again, and you're asking people whether they've eaten?'"

"Pangzi declared solemnly, 'Absolutely not.'"

"I asked, 'Then why does she look so angry?'"

"Pangzi drooped his head, wearing a bewildered expression: 'I also find it odd. At first I thought she was fine, so I wanted to strike while the iron's hot and invite her to a meal, but she said she felt unwell. I asked where she felt unwell, and she strangely said her relatives had come. I said, if your relatives are here, I can invite them to eat together. She said her relatives also felt unwell. I then said, I learned acupressure massage from my dad; I could help you and your "relatives" with massage, promote circulation… Then she got angry, flung the flowers away, and left.'"

"After saying that, Pangzi still pouted his lips pitifully and asked me, 'Hai Sheng, you tell me, where exactly did I go wrong?'"

"I didn't answer Pangzi, merely unable to stop myself from clutching my belly and laughing hysterically. This damned Pangzi—people say they're unwell because their relatives came, yet you actually offered to give them a massage, even to massage their 'relatives' together—how would you even do that, and still complain there isn't enough blood? People often say those in love are blind, but how do I see… Pangzi isn't blind; he's lacking a heart."