Chapter 12: The Problems Remain Severe

“Uh... we’re not going to hurt him, are we?” Gu Xiaogang asked me anxiously.

“I’m not telling you to beat him senseless, just to use a bit of force. The reason I want you to swat him with the broom is to sweep away all the filth clinging to him—those things mustn’t be allowed back in!” I explained patiently.

“Oh!” Gu Xiaogang nodded, gripping the broom and putting a little more strength into it.

“Harder! That’s just a broom in your hand, made from loose sorghum bristles. Use a bit more force—it won’t hurt him!” I urged.

Taking my advice, Gu Xiaogang glanced at the broom, then struck his son again.

Smack!

Smack!

Smack...

This time, the blows landed with a dull thud against the boy’s body.

After a dozen or more strikes, the boy, Pengpeng, suddenly woke up. He looked bewildered for a moment, then burst into tears: “Dad, why are you hitting me?”

“He’s awake! He’s awake!” The entire Gu family cried out in delight.

Gu Xiaogang stopped, his face beaming as he looked at his son.

“My boy!” his wife sobbed with joy.

“What... what happened to me? What are you all doing?” Poor Pengpeng, only five or six years old, looked around in confusion, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Just then, Gu Xiaogang’s wife reached out to embrace him. Seeing this, I quickly called out, “Don’t touch him! Not yet! Go fetch him a clean set of clothes, he needs to change everything he’s wearing!”

At my words, Gu Xiaogang’s wife hurried back into the house, returning quickly with some fresh clothes.

“Little one, untie those strings wrapped around you and take off your clothes,” I instructed Pengpeng.

Pengpeng glanced at me, then turned to his mother. “Mom... who is he? Did he break his leg?”

Children are children—just moments ago he was crying, and now his curiosity had shifted to the stranger with a plastered leg and a crutch.

“Pengpeng, be good! Do as Mr. Yu says, sweetheart!” his mother coaxed.

“All right then!” Pengpeng obediently pulled off the chalk lines I’d asked Uncle Wang to wrap around him earlier, then stood up and stripped off his clothes.

“Even your underwear, please,” I said.

Pengpeng blushed and looked shyly at his mother.

Children his age already have a sense of modesty, but there was no other way—this had to be done.

“Then... then turn around!” he demanded. “Mom, help cover me!”

The little fellow was clever enough to make requests, so we all turned our backs and didn’t look.

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When Pengpeng had finished putting on his clean clothes, I told Gu Xiaogang, “Use a stick to pick up his old clothes and set them aside. Once your father has changed, burn all of them together.”

“Okay,” Gu Xiaogang replied, then scooped Pengpeng into his arms.

“Dad, what’s wrong with Grandpa? What are you all doing?” Pengpeng asked, eyeing the old man lying nearby.

“He’s all right now, and he doesn’t even need to go to the hospital. Put a grain measure over his head, then have someone carry him away for now—don’t let him back inside yet,” I instructed.

Gu Xiaogang’s wife hurried over and took Pengpeng from him.

“A grain measure? We don’t have one of those!” Gu Xiaogang said to me.

A grain measure! It’s true, those are hard to find these days. Many city kids have never even seen one. It’s a tool once used to weigh or store grain, typically made of five trapezoidal wooden boards joined with mortise and tenon or nails. The top is square, the base smaller, looking rather like a large, square bowl.

“A scale, then? Do you have a scale?” I asked.

“A scale? Yes, we do!” Gu Xiaogang replied.

“Take the scale’s weighing pan off and use that on his head for now. Then ask around the village and see if anyone has a grain measure you can borrow,” I said.

The woman who had fetched the broom earlier ran off and soon returned with a scale. They removed the weighing pan and placed it on Pengpeng’s head, with his mother holding it steady as she carried him out.

“Go, see if any household has a grain measure to use,” I told her, and she hurried away.

“Good, now do as before—swat him,” I instructed, pointing to the old man still lying there.

With the prior experience, Gu Xiaogang hesitated no more. He picked up the broom and began to swat the old man.

Cough, cough, cough...

After more than twenty blows, the old man began to cough.

“Dad! Dad!” Gu Xiaogang cried, stopping at once.

The old man coughed on and on, looking terribly weak, but his eyes had cleared and his face looked normal again.

“Dad!” Gu Xiaogang put down the broom and called again.

“What... what happened to me?” The old man was indeed feeble, even speaking was an effort.

“Um...” Gu Xiaogang seemed at a loss for words.

I stepped forward and said, “Sir, you were ill—a very dangerous illness—but now you’re fine. Don’t worry.”

“I was ill?” The old man propped himself up, looking around and realizing he was lying at the doorway, his body covered in black grains.

“What is this...” Then he saw the talisman stuck to his chest and the ink lines binding him.

Before I could explain, he looked at me and asked, “You’re a master, aren’t you?”

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In our Southwestern dialect, the word “master” doesn’t just mean teacher or sir—it refers specifically to Taoist priests, fortune-tellers, geomancers, and the like. Just as in some places, “sir” refers to a husband.

“Yes,” I replied.

The old man nodded, apparently realizing he hadn’t simply been sick but had been possessed. If it had been an ordinary illness, he’d be in a hospital with doctors treating him.

“Dad, he’s Master Zhang’s disciple,” Gu Xiaogang told him.

“Oh, is that so? Then you must be Mr. Yu?” the old man asked me.

I nodded.

That was only natural—here, everyone had heard of Master Zhang.

I asked Gu Xiaogang to fetch clean clothes for the old man and used a bedsheet to shield him a bit while Gu Shiping helped him change.

The old man was too weak to dress himself, and I couldn’t let Gu Xiaogang touch his clothes, nor could I do it myself given my own injuries, so I had Gu Shiping help instead.

After all, Gu Shiping was also a Taoist practitioner and could handle it. At worst, I would give him a protective talisman afterwards.

“All right! Have someone take your father to the hospital for a check-up. A few days’ rest and he’ll be fine,” I told Gu Xiaogang once the old man was changed.

“Thank you! Thank you, Mr. Yu!” Gu Xiaogang said, bowing repeatedly. His gratitude was genuine, for I had truly saved both his father and son.

“No need to thank me. Let your other family members take your father to the hospital. You can’t leave yet—your family’s troubles aren’t over,” I said to Gu Xiaogang.

“I... I understand! I’ll follow your instructions,” he replied, now treating me with great respect.

“Good. Take your time—there’s still time, because your issue can only be dealt with tonight,” I said.

With that, I had Gu Shiping fetch a chair for me to rest in.

Gu Xiaogang went about his tasks while I sat there, contemplating his house and pondering a solution.

The boy and the old man were now fine, but the family’s troubles were far from over. I certainly couldn’t handle it all alone. Now, I could only wait for Uncle Wang to find Master Miao and bring him here to help.

After arranging for his father to be taken to the hospital, Gu Xiaogang asked the neighbors to prepare dinner for us, and even invited me to rest at a neighbor’s house for the time being.

The neighbors were very welcoming, and when they heard I was Master Zhang’s disciple, they became even more hospitable.

Just as the sun was about to set, my phone rang.

I pulled it out and saw it was Uncle Wang calling. I hurried to answer, “Uncle Wang, how is it? How’s Uncle Li? Did you find Master Miao?”

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