The old woman paused for a moment after I asked what the man who took her grandson looked like. Then she said, "My grandson told me the man who took him was about your height, and there was a five-centimeter-long scar on his arm, like a bloodstain…"
At first, I suspected Zhang Kun might've taken the boy. But after hearing the old lady's description, I quickly dismissed the thought. Zhang Kun didn't have such a scar on his arm.
"Young man," she murmured after a long silence, "though my eyes no longer see, my heart remains clear. I can feel it—there's a great conspiracy hidden within you…"
She slowly raised her head, her blind eyes locking onto mine with uncanny precision. Her face, lined with the years, bore an expression of solemnity I had never witnessed before. "If you manage to rescue my grandson, it might bring you immense fortune."
I froze. A grand conspiracy… inside me? What was she even talking about?
"There's no need for you to ask what the conspiracy is right now," she continued. "It's far too perilous. Though I can perceive it, I dare not speak it aloud. Just know—your destiny is unlike any other. My grandson… I leave him in your hands."
Leaning on her cane, the old woman struggled to rise from the wooden chair and made her way slowly toward the door.
I hurried to catch up. "Ma'am, wait—"
She turned around, stooped and frail, her gaze settling somewhere beyond me. "There's no need to ask further. I already said I cannot tell you, and I meant it."
She thought I was going to question her about the so-called grand conspiracy. But honestly, I had zero interest in that nonsense. If I spent every day worrying about such things, how could I even survive?
Instead, I said, "Ma'am, did your blindness begin ten years ago? Was it brought on by a chill and worsened by overwhelming grief?"
I had considered saying "went blind," but decided it sounded far too rude.
A flicker of confusion crossed the old woman's wrinkled face. She turned toward my voice, stunned. "You… how do you know that?"
I chuckled softly and stepped to her side, gently helping her back onto the wooden chair. "Though I majored in pharmaceutical studies, I know a fair bit about traditional Chinese medicine. Your condition isn't incurable. If you're willing to trust me, I believe I can restore your sight."
"R-Really? But… I've been to so many major hospitals, and none could help me!" Her voice trembled with hope, her body shaking faintly. The emotions welling up in her were obvious.
From the drawer behind the counter, I retrieved a roll of silver needles and plucked a stalk of mugwort from the medicine cabinet. Returning to her side, I said, "Traditional Chinese medicine is a profound discipline. The ailments that stump Western doctors are often nothing more than minor issues for us."
I drew a twenty-centimeter needle from the roll and held it delicately between two fingers. "There may be a little pain—bear with it."
She nodded.
I inserted seven needles around her eyes, targeting the precise acupoints. Then I lit the mugwort and began fuming the area for over half an hour. The water ghost perched on the beam above kept a vigilant watch on me, clearly concerned about the old woman's well-being.
Thinking about my three souls and six spirits still trapped in the ghost's grip, a dark idea briefly crossed my mind—taking the old lady hostage. While I may not be skilled in many things, I was more than capable of killing with medicine. A single shift of those seven needles already inserted into her vital points could cause her to bleed from every orifice and die instantly.
Just then, the old woman gasped, "Ah! I… I can feel something! My eyes—they're tingling!"
Hearing the delight in her voice, my conscience surged. I quickly said, "Don't move, Ma'am. Soon, the itching and heat around your eyes will grow unbearable, but you must endure it. Once this phase passes, you'll see again."
She murmured an acknowledgment.
I focused on the seven needles, worried she might reach for them in a moment of discomfort. Even the strongest will can be tested by such strange sensations.
Heh. I really was too soft-hearted. One moment I was contemplating trading her life for mine, and the next, I was worried sick about her pain.
Gradually, the silver needles began turning red. Black blood oozed from the skin around her eyes. Then, something strange happened—the mugwort in my hand also began glowing red, as if charged with some mysterious energy. I could feel warmth streaming into it.
After a while, I carefully removed the seven needles, now darkened with blackened blood, and wrapped them in a cloth, which was instantly stained pitch-black. I exhaled deeply. "Alright, Ma'am. Try opening your eyes."
Her eyelids trembled, but remained shut.
"What's wrong? Still can't open them?" My chest tightened. I had absolute faith in my medical skill—this shouldn't be happening.
"No… I'm afraid," she said, voice quivering. "Afraid that when I open my eyes, I'll still see nothing. That all I'll find is darkness and disappointment…"
Her words struck something deep in me. Gently, I said, "Even if all you see is darkness, so what? As long as you still long for the light, hope will never be far behind. We're not afraid of the dark—we fear a heart that has given up seeking the light."
She fell silent.
Then, her eyelids fluttered again. After a long internal struggle, she slowly opened her eyes.
Those eyes—dark as ink, yet gleaming like a spring's surface—stared straight ahead.
She sat motionless on the chair. Watching her, my heart thudded. I swallowed hard. "Ma'am… can you see me?"
She didn't answer.
Just as I was about to panic, a tear slipped from her eye. I swore I could hear it drop to the floor.
"I see! After ten long years… I can finally see again!" she sobbed. "Thank you, young man. Thank you so much…"
She fumbled at her wrist and removed a silver bracelet, then took my hand and pressed it into my palm. "I have nothing of value… but please accept this."
Touched by her gesture, I scratched my head awkwardly and tried to hand it back. "I can't take your things. It was nothing, really. If you're ever ill again, just come find me. And you're not far from home—this is West Street in Shaobei. No need to wander anymore."
But the old lady insisted. Left with no choice, I finally tucked the bracelet into my pocket.
As she departed, she looked back over and over, hesitation and worry in her gaze. At last, she said with quiet gravity, "I owe you a debt, young man. But as for the grand conspiracy wrapped around your fate… I cannot help you. The road ahead is yours to walk alone."
I smiled and nodded. After sending her off, I stood at the door of the medicine shop, gazing at the moon.
Who knows if I'll even live to see tomorrow?
Tonight's moon looked especially beautiful—maybe because I knew it might be the last time I'd ever see it.
Just then, a rustling wind stirred behind me. I turned to see the twelve ghosts of Zhangjia Village drifting silently to the doorway, their heads cocked at eerie angles as they grinned at me.
At first, I was afraid. But not anymore.
The half-hour had passed. The trance-inducing drug I'd given them had worn off. I no longer had control—they were ready to strike.
"What's so funny?" I asked coldly.
Though my three souls and six spirits were still in the water ghost's grasp, these twelve little ghosts couldn't do anything to me. At the moment, I was nothing more than an empty shell.
I laughed bitterly. "It is funny, isn't it? You're all dead, yet still clinging to this world. Is there truly so much here worth holding onto?"
"If you really love this world that much, then go reincarnate. Maybe, just maybe, you'll still have time to see the ones you're longing for before they die…"
A voice like ice sounded behind me. "You're not afraid of ghosts?"
I didn't turn. I knew—the water ghost had descended from the beam.