Chapter 70: Poor Commoners Do Not Keep Idle Gods

In the mountains, the evening light was dusky yellow. Dim and yellow.

In front of the host’s doorway was a pond where they raised fish. That day, they caught some fish, fetched some sausages and cured meat, and borrowed some vegetables from neighbors. The women then busied themselves in the kitchen.

The man of the house entertained the guests in the main hall.

These included the old Daoist invited from the neighboring village, relatives and neighbors who had voluntarily come to help, and the young Daoist priest who had brought back the child's soul on his way.

The focus was on the two Daoists.

“My child went through this ordeal and I wonder if it will affect him in the future,” the host looked at Song You and the old Daoist.

Everyone else listened intently.

Amusingly, some neighbors’ children had also come, silently leaning against the doorway, and secretly staring inside. Such mystical matters concerning gods and ghosts seemed to naturally hold great fascination for them.

However, the old Daoist glanced at Song You, hesitant to speak first. Song You also glanced at the old Daoist.

There was a moment of silence in the room.

“To be honest,” Song You spoke first in a very humble manner, “I have been cultivating quietly on the mountain and only descended the mountain last year to travel. Besides, I'm young and haven't really seen much of these things. Today, it was just luck that I encountered your son's soul. It was just a coincidence. The old Mister is the experienced one, you should ask him.”

The host turned to the old Daoist.

The old Daoist considered for a while before speaking, “Such things are certainly not good for a child's health. He needs to be well cared for after this for a period of time. Remember that he must not be frightened again. As for the future, I can't say for sure. It depends on how well he's cared for.”

Although he spoke the truth and didn't make things up, he couldn't help but feel indescribably lacking in confidence in front of the young Daoist priest who obviously had real cultivation skills. After speaking, he even secretly glanced at him.

In the dim light, he only saw him nod slightly, seeming to be contemplating, as if he was also learning this today.

“The most important thing,” the old Daoist continued, “is for you all to figure out how the child's soul wandered off in the first place, so you can prevent it in the future.”

“How would we know...”

“Think carefully. Was he frightened by something, like the crowing of roosters or barking dogs, or a sudden shout? Did he enter some temple or accidentally encounter a ghost at night?”

“How would we know about that...”

The host was also somewhat at a loss. “We only know that he came running home the day before yesterday, lay down on the bed, and couldn't be awakened.”

Only then did the others at the side start talking.

The voices became chaotic all of sudden.

Someone mentioned that a tree at the village entrance had been there for hundreds of years and many people prayed to it for protection, believing it to have spirituality. They had seen the child urinating on the tree before, possibly offending it.

Someone else said the child was mischievous and often ran into the mountains, likely encountering something that had become a demon.

Another mentioned that an elder in a household near the village entrance had died recently and was buried on the hillside just opposite. The day before just happened to be the seventh day after the death[1], and the child, running around all day, might have seen something.

Someone said the child was wild and playful. He most enjoyed hiding in dark places and jumping out to scare others from behind.

Song You turned his head to glance outside…

Across a few fields and a pond, in the dim light, he could vaguely see a new grave on the hill opposite. A spirit banner[2] was actually still planted there. According to local customs, it even had bells attached.

As he passed by earlier, the wind had blown and made them jingle.

The bells were a token of the living's longing and solace for the deceased, thus attracting lingering spirits. In the twilight, a faint shadow could vaguely be seen sitting on the hillside, lost in thought. Perhaps just listening to the wind making the bells chime or reminiscing about life, reluctant to leave for the moment.

“What are you looking at?” the host asked beside him.

“Nothing much,” Song You withdrew his gaze, smiling, “The days are getting longer by the day.”

“Exactly!” The host just thought Song You was hungry and hinting that dinner was not ready though it was already dark, so he hurriedly got up, “I'll hurry them up in the kitchen, dinner will be ready soon.”

Song You pursed his lips and glanced outside again.

Although the child had indeed almost lost his soul because of this, it was actually just a chance encounter. Such coincidences were rare and couldn't be blamed on anyone.

That was just an ordinary spirit of the departed lingering temporarily, and would naturally disappear in two days. There was no point in mentioning it.

Soon, dinner was ready.

The host’s family had cooked a pot of tofu fish, stir-fried some cured meat, and sliced the sausages. Besides this, they had cooked white rice. It couldn’t be compared to city food, but it was a good meal painstakingly prepared by the village peasant household, much better than the cold steamed buns Song You had been eating on the road.

Large rough bowls filled with white rice. The fragrance of the rice filled the air.

Unexpectedly, the ordinary-looking pot of tofu fish, which seemed to have been casually cooked, hid a secret…

It was actually sour.

Upon careful tasting, the sourness wasn't from vinegar or pickled cabbage but from preserved plums or similar dried fruits, giving it a very unique flavor. The strong sourness made it easy to eat a lot of rice.

Song You felt at ease. He picked at the dishes as he wished, scooped large mouthfuls of rice, and helped himself to more whenever he wanted, showing no signs of being reserved.

For the hospitable host, this was really something to be happy about. Even the woman at the side who had cooked the meal also felt proud.

“This fish is really appetizing!”

“Just a rustic method. Our people all cook it this way,” the woman smiled broadly, “It’s sour so you can eat a whole bowl of rice with just the soup. It’s a trick used by the poor.”

“You have good skill.”

“You’re flattering me...”

The host’s house had few rooms, and they could only make one available.

Song You had to share a room with the old Daoist.

At least he could make his bed on the floor. Traveling outside, this couldn't be avoided. One couldn't be too particular or picky.

But such things were strange…

Initially, though he accepted it without resistance in his heart, he still more or less felt it was less than ideal. After all, it was not as good as having a single room. However, once he entered and lay down, he very quickly felt there was no difference.

Even with the old Daoist's thunderously loud snoring in the night, it was merely a minor issue, hardly worth mentioning at all. Reflecting on it carefully, the feeling was completely different from before entering the room.

Such things were common…

Only when you experienced them directly could you see them clearly and truly understand your true feelings towards them.

But how could such things be fully understood through thinking? How could they be learned from elsewhere? They must be experienced personally to gain insight and gradually comprehend.

Upon careful reflection, there was indeed something wondrous to it.

***

The next morning.

Song You woke up not too early, just in time for breakfast.

Although it was breakfast, the host’s family also tried their best to prepare it sumptuously. They cooked fish again, and sliced the cured meat. The dishes were oily.

Common people living in the mountains didn't care about things being greasy. These were treats they rarely ate normally, so there was no such thing as being too greasy. They just brought out all they had, hoping the guests would eat well.

Song You thanked them and started eating.

The old Daoist from last night was also still there. He initiated a conversation with Song You. “Young Mister, are you heading to Yunding Mountain in Pingzhou to seek immortals?”

“You've heard of it?”

“I've heard people talk about it,” though the old Daoist was at the meal table, he paused his chopsticks and swallowed his food every time before he spoke, “They say there are immortals up there, and many go to the mountain every year to seek them. Even some important court officials go there.”

“Have they found any?”

“Only if they are fated to do so.”

“I'm also going to take a look because of its reputation,” Song You paused, “I heard that Yunding Mountain’s scenery is also beautiful.”

“It's very high!”

“Can you climb it in a day?”

“I've never climbed it.” The old Daoist unexpectedly answered honestly, then added, “I don't know if Yunding Mountain is easy to climb, but I've heard the road from here to Pingzhou is not very easy to travel.”

“How so?”

“Going over from here, you're definitely going to enter via Xiangle County, right?” The old Daoist’s eyes were beady as he stared directly at Song You.

“Yes.” Song You actually didn't know what county lay ahead.

The host couldn't add to the conversation so he just listened from the side in order to increase his knowledge.

The old Daoist said, “From Xiangle County to Pingzhou, the road is very difficult. It was historically avoided even during wars and furthermore, it's hundreds of li of mountains, sparsely-populated.”

He paused, then lowered his voice, speaking mysteriously, “I know you have true cultivation skills, far better than me, but that stretch is said to be full of demons and ghosts! Think about it, an unused road normally becomes overgrown with weeds in less than half a year, but nothing grows on that road. Who would you say is traveling?”

“Thank you, old Mister...” The old Daoist undoubtedly meant well.

In this era, some people did possess true cultivation skills, but having such skills didn’t mean they can act as they like without fear in this world. No matter how lofty their skills were, it merely meant they could afford to walk at night. It didn't mean they would want to. A difficult road, even one that was just muddy and dirtied one’s feet, was still annoying.

Song You was reluctant to travel such roads frequently, but he was willing to try occasionally.

At that moment, he heard the old Daoist say, “I haven’t asked where you cultivated yet?”

“I have been rude.” Song You put down his chopsticks and cupped his hands, “On Yin-Yang Mountain in Lingquan County.”

“It must be an immortal abode.”

“I wouldn't describe it as that, it is not worthy.”

“Does your place...also have cases of children losing their souls?”

“I have heard of such cases.”

“Do they rely on calling the souls back there too?”

Song You paused to think…In Yizhou, they actually also called souls. It was just that the calling method and details differed. It essentially worked on the same principles.

The old Daoist had specially asked this after telling him specially about the road to Pingzhou. Evidently, it was not because he wanted to know if they had the same rustic soul-calling method.

Daoists among the people like this didn’t actually cultivate spiritual methods or know magic. They relied totally on knowledge and experience passed down through generations to solve such matters. This was their survival skill and should not be disdained.

Although naturally not as powerful as orthodox magic, their skills were easy to learn and acquire as well as simple to use. They have helped solve countless problems among the people and could indeed be described as having performed deeds of immense merit.

Only a cat that could catch mice was a good cat.

Thus Song You thought earnestly. “I haven't seen much, but aside from calling souls, I've indeed heard of another method used by a Daoist among the people in my hometown.”

“Could you tell me?”

“Is there a small temple here? Not illegitimate gods but ones with titles formally conferred by the court.”

“Their village doesn't have one, neither does our village.”

“Is there one in the county?”

“The county has Taoist and Buddhist temples with many gods worshiped.”

“That won't do.”

“Why not?”

“It’s hard to make requests when it comes to great gods so you can’t seek them. Illegitimate gods are unreliable and risky. Minor gods are often just empty statues, which are useless. It's best to find a local deity known only in one county that had a title awarded by the court.”

Song You explained to the old Daoist, “In our Lingquan County, there was a Daoist who did this. He built a small temple for this deity in the village. It did not need to be too big, three chi was enough. Every time it was New Year or there was a festival, he would tell the villagers to go and worship.

“Meanwhile the Daoist himself went every few days to light incense and say a few words, getting acquainted with the god. Next time something happens, it will be more convenient for him to make a request than for an ordinary villager.”

“This method...”

“This method takes some effort, but it has its advantages. Once properly established, whenever a soul is lost, a little ghost is encountered, or a household faces an evil spirit or demon, there's no need for other actions. Just go to the temple and light incense. Once the deity manifests, all will be solved.”

Song You paused, “And if it doesn’t work...”

“What if it doesn't?”

“Farming is not easy for the villagers. How could incense and offerings support idle gods?” Song You beamed as he said, “Such matters should be explained clearly to the deity, and he probably would also understand.”

“And if it still doesn’t work?”

“Smash his statue for him.” His casual words were sonorous and forceful.

The host listening in from the side was shocked at once.

The old Daoist also gasped, his eyes widening. He tugged at his beard and then fell into contemplation.

1. According to Chinese superstition, the soul of the departed is supposed to return on the seventh day. ☜

2. Banner to attract departed spirits. ☜