Chapter 24

Chapter 24

That evening, after Master gave me a general overview of the teachings passed down through her lineage, she tossed two thick books at me.

Their pages were yellowed with age. I looked at the titles on their covers, both written in traditional Chinese characters.

One was called The Classic of Dwellings.

The other was The Book of Burial.

“The art of feng shui concerns the dwellings of yin and yang. The living have their homes; the dead have their graves. These two books are the definitive works on feng shui. Starting today, you have one year to memorize them so thoroughly you can recite them backward. Theory must be combined with practice, but first you need a firm grasp of the theory.”

What?

My face fell.

Both books were as thick and heavy as bricks, and the tiny print inside was packed together like ants.

I had to memorize them in a year–and know them backward and forward?

That was way too hard!

And I had a feeling this was only one part of my training.

Sure enough…

Master went on to say that I also had to learn how to draw talismanic patterns and chant incantations. Fortunately, those subjects did not involve as much theory as feng shui.

Most of it would be learned by following her and practicing for myself. Drawing talismans, for instance, was not something one could master by talking. I would understand once I put brush to paper.

She had other arrangements for household familiars and the various branches of the eclectic arts.

In short, merely hearing Master’s rough description was enough to tell me that life would not be easy from then on.

But this was the path I had chosen. No matter how grueling it became, I had to keep walking it!

This counted as my first formal lesson under Master. By the time we finished talking, the moon stood high in the sky and mist had spread across the land.

The Sichuan-Chongqing region was mountainous and foggy throughout the year. Even on summer nights, thin mist rose from the grass and mountain hollows to veil the countryside.

“All right, Little Wu. Go home. Your parents must still be waiting for you.”

“Yes, Master!”

I bowed respectfully, gathered up The Book of Burial and The Classic of Dwellings, and prepared to leave.

“One more thing!” She seemed to remember something. “Tell your parents tomorrow to prepare a shrine, incense and candles, a chicken, and a duck. At dusk, I’ll help you summon a household familiar.”

Summon a household familiar!

The words filled me with excitement.

Master had explained that there were generally two ways to invite one.

In the rural Northeast, many ordinary households asked an adept to summon one for them.

That kind of household familiar protected the whole family, though only against ordinary dangers in daily life. Its main purpose was to keep evil spirits from entering the home.

After all, the forests in the Northeast were deep and full of uncanny things. Having a household familiar was a sensible precaution.

The second kind was summoned specifically for a practitioner such as a folk Taoist master.

This familiar formed a pact with one particular member of the household. The two became one, cultivating and advancing together, while the familiar also extended its protection to the practitioner’s family.

Naturally, Master intended to summon the second kind for me!

It would be the same sort of relationship she shared with Miss Chang–that of master and servant.

After saying goodbye to Master, I headed home in high spirits.

The brilliant moon cast silver light across the mountains.

From afar, I could see the lamp still glowing in our house halfway up the opposite slope. Its warm yellow light stood out sharply in the darkness and guided me home.

I smiled happily.

My parents really were waiting up for me!

I quickened my pace and broke into a run.

When I looked back, the light in Master’s house at the end of the village was still burning too.

For many years afterward, those two bright lights–one before me and one behind–remained my hope and gave me the strength to persevere. They stayed with me through dangers and horrors beyond an ordinary person’s imagination, through loneliness and hardship, and through countless plots and deceptions.

…

…

I rose early the next morning.

I carried a little stool into the courtyard, sat down in the morning sunlight, and began gnawing my way through the two books.

My mother came out to feed the chickens and froze when she saw me. Then she laughed and scolded, “They say a long-backed, narrow-ribbed child is born lazy. My little one usually sleeps until ten during vacation, but today you’re up before your mother. Is this some case of spirit possession?”

I rolled my eyes at her.

“What kind of mother picks on her own son like that? I’m just afraid I won’t finish what Master assigned me, so I have to start taking things seriously. I guess sleeping late and I have parted ways for good.”

There was nothing I could do about it.

I started with The Classic of Dwellings.

It dealt with the feng shui of homes for the living: where to build them, how to construct them, which direction they should face, and many other things. I had hoped to learn quickly so I could assess our own house.

Clearly, I had been far too optimistic…

The contents of The Classic of Dwellings were extraordinarily dense and abstruse, and the book was written in classical Chinese. I had not even started middle school yet, so most of it made only the vaguest sense to me.
I read from six thirty until breakfast at eight thirty. In two hours, I managed only three or four pages! All I had gained was a rough understanding of the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches and the directions associated with the Eight Trigrams.

My head felt heavy and muddled. Forget memorizing anything–I barely understood the general meaning.

“This is so hard! I never knew entering the esoteric arts and learning miraculous abilities could be even duller than school.”

I sighed helplessly.

I had watched Master handle all kinds of terrifying, unnatural incidents with ease, vanquishing corpse fiends, mountain spirits, strange creatures, and ancient ghosts. She had seemed unbelievably impressive!

That made me think learning these things would be thrilling and exciting.

Who would have thought it would be so tedious and difficult?

But I had never liked admitting defeat, and the thought of my third life tribulation spurred me on. After breakfast, I went right back to gnawing through the book.

To my surprise, I did begin to understand a little.

Take Wujia Village, for example. The village stretched from east to west along a narrow mountain valley. A river ran past the foot of the mountain, curved around the village entrance like a jade belt, and then flowed into the Chuan River.

Mountains surrounded us. To the northwest, the land rose high and extended for several miles; to the southeast stood range upon range of hills. The terrain in the Kun direction–southwest–and Gen direction–northeast–was relatively level. In feng shui, this formation meant that someone of great distinction would emerge from the village.

“Wujia Village isn’t desperately poor, but nobody would call it prosperous either. Dad says the village is over three hundred years old and never produced so much as a successful county-level scholar in the old days. He’s pinning all his hopes on me getting into college. Where is this distinguished person supposed to come from?”

I muttered to myself.

Then again, the book Master gave me could not be wrong. There had to be many details I did not understand yet. How could I grasp such profound knowledge after reading for only a few hours?

After spending half the day on The Classic of Dwellings, I was exhausted. To give my mind a change, I took out some seventh-grade textbooks I had borrowed from older children in the village and started studying ahead.

I had not forgotten Master’s harsh demand that, once I entered middle school, I had to rank first in my grade!

“Life sure is hard…”

I muttered under my breath.

And so the day passed until dusk.

The sun sank toward the west.

Its daytime ferocity faded into a gentle glow, gilding the entire village, the surrounding mountains and forests, and the river beyond the village. Fiery clouds burned along the horizon.

The temperature dropped a little, and a pleasant breeze began to blow.

I had always loved this hour on summer days.

Today I loved it even more, because Master would soon come to our house and summon a household familiar for me!

I could hardly wait to find out which of the five families my familiar would belong to–Fox, Weasel, Hedgehog, Snake, or Rat.

Personally, I hoped for a Snake Immortal. Miss Chang was a snake, after all. Since I was Master’s disciple, a snake seemed like the perfect choice for me too.

Master soon arrived.

She wore a strange mask rather than showing her true face.

I guessed she was afraid that her appearance as an eighteen- or nineteen-year-old girl might cause unnecessary trouble. Besides, the mask gave her an air of mystery.

My mother hurried over to greet the Immortal Lady warmly. “You’re here! Have you eaten dinner? Would you like to eat first?”

Master shook her head. “No. Dusk is the point at which day and night first divide and yin separates from yang. The energy of the wilderness is strongest now, making it more likely that we’ll summon a suitable and powerful household familiar.”

“Oh, I see…”

My mother nodded without really understanding. My father pulled her aside to finish arranging the shrine and laying out the fruit, offerings, incense, and candles.

Master gave me a few more instructions. When the time came, I was to stand before the shrine and silently think of the kind of household familiar I wanted.

Before long, the shrine, incense, candles, fruit, chicken, and duck were all ready!

Master began walking in a strange pattern while murmuring under her breath. Her broad sleeves and skirt fluttered around her, beautiful and full of mysterious grace.

Then she picked up the seven prepared sticks of incense. Three sticks were customary, but summoning a household familiar willing to bind its life to one’s own required seven.

Yet when Master lit them and placed them in the incense burner on the shrine, something strange happened!

Everyone knew that burning incense produced a thread of white smoke.

But although the incense in the burner rapidly burned shorter, not a wisp of white smoke rose from it!

The incense burned without smoke.

“Huh?”

Even Master let out a soft sound of surprise.

Then she looked at me. “Don’t close your eyes and concentrate yet. Wait a moment.”

“Master, what’s wrong?”

I asked, curious and uneasy.