Chapter Four: Return My Face (Part One)

Seeing me nod, Chen Chu walked into the room and took out several copper coins tinged with red. Later, I would learn these were known as fate coins, a tool used in divination to predict fortune or misfortune, kept year-round in cinnabar. Chen Chu sat down beside me, cupped the red coins in both hands, and began to murmur incantations. After about thirty seconds, he uttered the word, “Reveal,” and cast the coins onto the table.

As the coins landed, I saw them form a strange shape on the tabletop.

“Grandpa Chen, what is this...?” I began to ask, but suddenly Chen Chu’s eyes glazed over as he stared at the table, and then, with a muffled sound, he coughed up a mouthful of fresh blood, splattering the reddened coins.

“Grandpa Chen!” I hurried to support him as he slumped toward me.

“I’m fine…” Chen Chu took a deep breath, straightened himself with effort, and then took a large gulp of tea and rinsed out his mouth.

“Grandpa Chen, why did you suddenly cough up blood just now? What did you see?”

Chen Chu quickly pressed his hand over my mouth and lowered his voice. “Don’t speak of it.”

I glanced around; there was no one else. I wondered what he was doing, but after witnessing him spit blood, I truly began to believe this Chen Chu was a master of his craft.

Why do I say this? When I was in high school, two of my roommates went to have their fortunes told. I’d always had bad luck, so I thought I might as well try it too. The fortune-teller my roommates visited was said to be famous for his ability to walk among spirits and see past lives. Though I was skeptical, rumors about him abounded, and it was said he’d dealt with the hospital vampire corpse incident a few years back.

So I went along with my classmates. But as soon as the fortune-teller heard my birth date and calculated with my name, his eyes rolled back, he pointed at me and said only, “You—” before dropping dead on the spot.

Ever since, I’d asked my parents about it, but they insisted it was a coincidence. At the time, I shrugged it off, but later the fortune-teller’s family confronted me, blaming me for his death. It left me uneasy for a long while.

Now, seeing Chen Chu only cough up blood but quickly recover, I realized he was at least a higher caliber than the fortune-teller from my high school days.

“Ah, Xiaodong, this is your fate to bear. I can neither see nor speak of it,” Chen Chu said, placing a banana leaf he’d prepared over the face on the invitation letter. With a sigh, he added, “Tonight, you must go alone. Let's have dinner first. Afterward, I’ll tell you what to watch for, and then you must set out.”

“Grandpa Chen, you’re not coming with me?” I protested.

He placed the banana leaf over the invitation, which then returned to its original appearance. Handing it back to me, he shook his head. “I’d like to live a few more years.”

With that, he left the room.

From childhood until now, this was only the second time I’d had my fortune told.

The first time, a famed fortune-teller died because of me; this time, Chen Chu spat blood.

After the first incident, I had tried to ask my parents—they insisted it was mere coincidence. I didn’t dwell on it, but the fortune-teller’s family later found me, accusing me of causing their father’s death, which left me guilt-ridden for a long time.

Seeing Chen Chu cough up blood had truly startled me.

Chen Chu drove us to dinner, but I barely had any appetite and just picked at my food. When we returned to the office, Chen Chu produced a small pouch sewn from red silk.

“Here, put this on your phone. Around ten o’clock, call me. Whatever you do, do not remove the red silk tonight. You’re certain to cross paths with spirits; I’ve enchanted this silk to keep the line open. But after midnight, I can do no more.”

I took the silk pouch and slipped it over my phone.

Then Chen Chu gave me several other items: three yellow talismans, a small peachwood sword, two willow leaves, and a crystal ball the size of a fist.

“Grandpa Chen, what’s this?” I asked, holding the crystal ball.

“That’s one of my most important treasures,” he said. “Inside is a little fox spirit. At night, just prick your finger and let a drop of blood fall on it, and the fox spirit will assist you. But mind your manners—these are celestial beings, not to be offended.”

All I could think of was ghost stories, but I said nothing and tucked the items away carefully.

“That’s all I can do for you. If you get through tonight safely, when my senior arrives, he may be able to delay the collapse of the blood array in your body.”

I nodded. At this point, whether I believed or not no longer mattered.

Summoning my courage, I opened the invitation.

The date was written plainly: the third day of the tenth month, year of the Goat—today. I shuddered all over; I’d only glanced at the invitation before and hadn’t noticed the date.

No wonder Chen Chu kept insisting I must reach the grove before nine tonight.

Taking a deep breath, I got into a taxi bound for the high school.

All the way, I weighed the possibilities. What exactly was happening to me? I still couldn’t believe Su Ying would want to harm me—after all, we’d loved each other deeply, and last night I’d felt she still cared for me.

But how to explain the invitation? Or the misfortunes that befell anyone who tried to read my fortune?

Whatever the case, tonight I had to find out the truth.

After all, I was already twenty-four and had seen my share of strange things. As unusual as this was, it wasn’t beyond explanation.

Half an hour later, I arrived at the grove behind the school.

Not far away was a bustling avenue with many food stalls. Though it was National Day and the students were on break, the place was lively.

I waited for Su Ying on a small rise in the grove.

Then my phone rang, startling me. I answered and, as agreed with Chen Chu, put on my earphones.

“Xiaodong, has your ex-girlfriend shown up yet?” Chen Chu asked.

Earlier at dinner, I’d told him about Su Ying. When I’d said she probably wouldn’t harm me, he replied that only after tonight would we know for sure.

“Not yet, Grandpa Chen. Are you sure waiting in this grove will work?” I muttered, still dazed by how I’d ended up here, mystified by the idea of holding a wedding feast at night in a grove. Besides, weddings here were always held at night, with the ceremony in the morning.

“Just wait there. From now on, don’t hang up. Report anything unusual immediately.”

“I’ll stay with you until midnight,” he added, “after that, seek the little fox!”

I murmured my assent, my mind still swirling.

Another half hour passed, and I felt chill winds begin to blow.

The hissing sound must have been audible to Chen Chu on the other end.

“Xiaodong, be alert. They’re coming…”