Peng Gang was so scared he nearly wet himself. He slowly backed away, trying not to make a sound. He could sense his dad sitting there, motionless, silent, like a corpse.
I couldn't wrap my head around one thing. "Peng Gang, if you were your dad and someone suddenly intruded on your turf, what would you do?"
"Heh," he gave a bitter laugh. "Old Liu, I get what you mean. If it were me, my first instinct would be to shout, 'Who's there?'"
"Exactly, that's a normal human reaction. But your dad quickly turned off the light, stayed silent, and hid in the dark. That's not right—it's not how someone should react."
"There's an explanation for that," Peng Gang said. "I think he didn't want anyone to discover his secret. When I knocked over the jar and made a noise, he couldn't tell where it came from. If there really was an intruder in the basement, he wouldn't know if they were after him. Shouting 'Who's there?' would've completely exposed him."
"Still, your dad's reaction was weird," I said. "Even if your reasoning makes sense, for him to stay so calm and calculated in the face of a sudden intrusion—it's not normal."
Peng Gang scratched his brow, looking deeply troubled. "Old Liu, do you know what I felt the moment the light went out?"
"What?"
"I felt that the person in the darkness wasn't my dad! There's a bond between father and son—I've lived with him for twenty years, and I know that feeling. But in that moment, I sensed a stranger. A… monster occupying my father's body."
I swallowed hard, my hair standing on end.
"You mean the soul that came back from the underworld isn't your dad's, but some… stray ghost?" My teeth chattered.
"That's what I think. But Mr. Li had a different explanation."
"Oh? What did he say?"
"He said it's still my dad, but a person has three souls and seven spirits. After coming back to life, my dad didn't retrieve all of his souls, so he's missing parts, which is why he's become so strange."
I sucked in a cold breath. This was beyond my comprehension or imagination. All I could do was give a wry smile.
"Mr. Li said there's a simple way to fix this," Peng Gang continued.
"How?"
"Go to the underworld and find out."
At that, I nearly burned my mouth with my cigarette. Were these people insane? Who comes up with such a crazy idea? Going to the underworld—that's just dying, isn't it?
"When he said that, I thought it over for a long time. If my dad really lost part of his soul in the underworld, as his son, it's my duty to find it. Honestly, I was terrified, but I made up my mind to face death. I told Mr. Li I'd go to the underworld. He waved me off and said, 'You don't need to go. I will.'"
My hands and feet went ice-cold, and I nearly stopped breathing.
Peng Gang stared at a distant streetlight, his gaze dreamy. "When he said that, I felt he was a real man, someone absolutely trustworthy."
I slammed the table and cursed, "Bullshit! Even if there is an underworld, it's not some place you can just waltz into!"
Peng Gang looked at me. "You're forgetting a key person."
"Who?"
"Ma Danlong. The guy who performed the soul-summoning ritual for my dad."
I suddenly remembered him and said, "Can he help you? Bullshit! Your dad's like this because of him, I bet! Some crooked shaman—if this were back in the early days of the People's Republic, a conman like him would've been shot!"
"You think he did this to my dad on purpose?"
"Hey, what else? I reckon this guy's summoned souls for plenty of people. Maybe he's organized these resurrected folks into some kind of association, holding their souls hostage, acting as the ringleader of a ghost army, pulling off scams or causing chaos. It's not impossible."
Peng Gang stared at me, then burst out laughing. "Old Liu, you should write fantasy novels. Your imagination's way wilder than mine or Mr. Li's."
I snorted. "You're still a kid. You have no idea how complicated and sinister this world can be."
Peng Gang said calmly, "Whatever you say, it's too late. Mr. Li's already gone to find Ma Danlong."
Something clicked in my mind. "Be honest—when Ma Danlong performed the ritual, you were there. Did you lie to your dad about any details?"
"You think I'd tell the truth to someone who's half-human, half-ghost?"
I didn't like hearing him talk about his dad like that. Frowning, I said, "Don't say that. No matter what, he's still your father." I recounted how, during my interview with his dad, he'd openly praised his son.
Peng Gang looked pained, his eyes red. "Old Liu, I don't know what to do. How did something so creepy and terrifying happen to our family? My mom's suffering every day, living worse than death, her hair turning white. I'm so torn up. Thank God for Mr. Li…"
My eyebrow shot up. "What did Li Damin say?"
"He said not to worry, that he'd investigate thoroughly. He told me this kind of thing isn't something a student like me should get involved in—it's too deep. He said he'd come back and tell me once he figured it out. But I haven't been able to contact him since that day. I think he went to find Ma Danlong."
My heart sank. That idiot Li Damin, always sticking his nose where it doesn't belong.
I sighed. "After you ran into your dad in the basement, you got out okay?"
"Yeah."
"He didn't suspect you?"
"Probably not," Peng Gang said, letting out a long breath. "He never mentioned it at home or talked to me about it. That secretary's a smart girl—she wouldn't stir up trouble by telling him."
"Good."
"Old Liu, are you going to look for Mr. Li?"
I bristled. "That's none of your concern. Tell me about Ma Danlong. What's he like? What details did you leave out?"
"Ma Danlong's a very ordinary-looking guy, chubby face, seems honest. He'd blend into a crowd—no strong impression."
"How old is he?" I asked.
"Could be anywhere from twenty-eight to forty-five. Hard to pin down," Peng Gang said.
"What about his clothes?"
"Super ordinary. Black jacket, jeans, clearly cheap stuff from a street stall."
"Hold on," I scratched my head. "With skills like his, he'd be a VIP for big shots and tycoons. Rich and powerful people eat that stuff up. How's he so poor? So ordinary? Wait, didn't he once ask for half your company's shares? That can't have been his first time. How's he not loaded?"
"Mr. Li had a theory about that," Peng Gang said. "He said someone who's seen through life and death wouldn't care about worldly possessions."
I nodded. "Fair point. So, tell me about the soul-summoning ritual."
Peng Gang said the ritual he described to his dad was mostly accurate, but he left out a few details.
First, about the ritual tools: Ma Danlong didn't just use an incense burner and long incense sticks. The most important item was a black Buddha statue.
The statue was about the length of a human palm, jet black, seated cross-legged on a lotus throne. It looked chubby, seemingly armless, with indistinct facial features. Ma Danlong kept handling it during the ritual. Peng Gang only glanced at it briefly, but it gave off an eerie, sinister vibe. It didn't resemble the revered statues in temples; it had a Southeast Asian flair.
Peng Gang mentioned that during a high school graduation trip to Singapore, Malaysia, and Thailand, he'd seen a crude shrine in a Thai border village. The Buddha statue there was somewhat similar to Ma Danlong's, not identical but close in style.
During the ritual, Ma Danlong placed the black statue behind the incense burner, lit the long incense, and let the smoke curl upward. In the thick, misty haze, the statue seemed to come alive, vivid and unsettling.