“What’s done is done, but you shouldn’t have laid the blame on the Jiang family. I couldn’t open my eyes or speak by then, but I could still overhear what the maids were talking about. You wronged the Jiang family, smearing them as quacks who killed their patients. Have you no shame?”
Old Lady Liu closed her eyes. This form of hers, released from entrapment, couldn’t hold out much longer. Within a few brief moments, her body began to fade and her features turned indistinct.
“I am your birth mother. Chong-er is your son. The debt owed between family members is different from what’s owed to outsiders. For three years, your mother pushed the millstone for you. With this, I’ve repaid my debt for your care. Chong-er has lived here for so long that he’s repaid the twenty years you spent raising him. Now, you must repay the debt you owe the Jiang family as well.”
“Mom—Mom, what do you mean by that?” Scribe Liu raised his head, his expression both panicked and befuddled.
“A debt owed is a debt owed. It cannot be erased and must always be repaid.” Old Lady Liu took a long look at him, then turned to Xuanmin. “Master, is it time for me to go?” She’d probably taken Xuanmin for one of those monks who performed last rites, helping spirits cross over.
Xuanmin looked down at her and pointed to the millstone.
Old Lady Liu didn’t wait for him to explain. She nodded, as if understanding what he meant. Then, she turned to look at Liu Chong. The sobbing fool had raised his head. He hadn’t quite understood her words earlier, but now he could sense her impending departure.
“Grandma… Are you tired?” he asked.
“Yes, Grandma is very tired,” said Old Lady Liu gently. “She needs to sleep for a while.”
“If I burn ingots, can I see you?”
“Grandma can hear everything you say. You may not be able to see her, but she will…always be watching you.”
With that, Old Lady Liu turned around and entered the millstone. Xuanmin reached down to pick it up, then picked up Jiang Shining, who’d reverted to his paper doll form and was lying on the ground. Turning without a word, he walked outside.
“Master! Master! My face!” Scribe Liu was frozen for a while, then stumbled out after him, shaking as he touched his own face. “Why is it swollen?!”
Xuanmin glanced sideways at him. Scribe Liu’s cheeks had ballooned, and two palm marks were printed clearly upon them, crimson as blood. Some of his skin had sloughed off, causing the web of veins underneath to protrude angrily—a terrifying sight.
“Vengeful spirits can’t touch the living,” said Xuanmin.
In the blink of an eye, Scribe Liu’s face had become so swollen that he could barely speak. “Th-then, why…?”
“But a vengeful spirit harboring grievances has a single chance to seek justice,” continued Xuanmin. “They can leave a mark on the wrongdoer.”
Scribe Liu’s face was filled with fear. “What comes after the mark? Will she return to take my life?”
“She didn’t leave that mark for herself,” Xuanmin said coldly. “She left it for your son Liu Chong and for the Jiang family. Both of them have suffered greatly because of you.”
Her punishment was simply giving him a taste of his own medicine.
“Ah, don’t leave! Help me! Please help me, Great Master!” Scribe Liu fell to his knees with a plop and shuffled forward to clutch the hem of Xuanmin’s robe.
From his perch at the pouch’s entrance, Xue Xian suddenly spoke. “Hey, Liu, you bastard. I have a question! Did you travel to Huameng, Guangdong this summer?”
In a panic, Scribe Liu thought Xuanmin had asked the question. He shook his head hard. “No, no. I’ve never been that far.” After answering, he shivered and continued to plead, “Help me, help me…”
“That’s impossible,” Xue Xian said coldly.
“It’s the truth! I swear it! How could I dare lie to you?” Scribe Liu was on the verge of smashing his head to the ground in a bow. He really didn’t look like he was lying.
But how could that be? If he hadn’t gone to Huameng, why was he carrying Xue Xian’s mark of blood? Xue Xian stared at the bloodstain that Xuanmin had pointed out earlier, both irritated and confused. “If you tell even a single lie—”
“I dare not, I dare not… Ah, wait!” Desperate for help, Scribe Liu was the picture of eagerness, as if he longed to split his skull open and show them the insides. “That’s right! I do know someone from Huameng in Guangdong. A fisherman! I don’t have much connection to him, but he sold me what looked like a marble made of gold—”
“A marble?! What did it look like?” Xue Xian interjected, recalling the droning sound he’d heard before falling into the array. He couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Where is the marble now?”
Scribe Liu shrank away and stammered, “I-it’s…”
“Why are you mumbling?! Speak up!” Getting a half-hearted answer at a moment like this made Xue Xian want to toss Scribe Liu into the South Sea.
“The sorcerer said the marble had a great amount of spiritual energy, so he melted it into the millstone.” Scribe Liu’s head had practically shrunk into his collar.
Xue Xian fell silent, but inside he was bursting with fury. You… You refined my dragon body to make your millstone? You motherfucker, why didn’t you stuff yourself inside?!
So great was Xue Xian’s rage that he passed out on the spot.
Seeing that he’d gone limp, Xuanmin made to leave again.
“No, you can’t go! Don’t leave, help me, help me…” Scribe Liu clutched at Xuanmin’s robe in a death grip.
Xuanmin looked down at Scribe Liu for a few moments before stooping down. In a low voice, he muttered a few words in a language Scribe Liu didn’t understand. They seemed like part of a sutra. Next, the monk struck Scribe Liu’s forehead with the back of his hand.
Scribe Liu felt the vibrations ringing through his skull, as if a thousand bells were pealing there. “Y-you removed the mark?” he murmured, sounding pleased.
“It’s only insurance. The debt must be repaid.”
At these words, Scribe Liu froze. Xuanmin wrenched his robe free of Scribe Liu’s hands, stood, and turned to leave.
Returning to his senses, Scribe Liu crawled after Xuanmin, crying, “Buddhists must be merciful and compassionate…”
“This humble monk cultivates no compassion.”
Xuanmin didn’t look back as he strode away.