After the old man Wang stirred up trouble, my whole family couldn't find peace, and I looked like I was at death's door. The next morning, strange corpse-like spots appeared all over my body, spreading rapidly. My fever wouldn't break, my breathing grew weaker, and it was clear I was fading fast.
My mother nearly fainted crying several times, while my grandfather and father were helpless, sighing in frustration.
During this time, Grandma Liu tried many methods, even sending her protective spirit to possess me temporarily, but nothing worked—in fact, I only got worse.
Then at noon, a large monk arrived at our gate. He was a hefty man, at least two hundred pounds, about fifty or sixty years old. He knocked and immediately asked if there was a nine-year-old child in the house who was possessed by evil spirits.
Grandpa looked at this monk skeptically—he seemed more like a glutton than a holy man—but when the monk pinpointed that we had a nine-year-old possessed child, Grandpa was shocked and nodded repeatedly. "Yes, we do have such a child. He's barely holding on. What is the master here for?"
The monk nodded and said, "That's good. I want to take him as my disciple. I can cure his condition. If you agree to let him be my disciple, I will save his life immediately."
Grandpa hurriedly called everyone, including Grandma Liu, to meet the monk and hear about his ability to heal me.
Still, Grandpa felt uneasy; this fat monk didn't look like a real monk.
Grandma Liu examined the monk and sensed something unusual. She stepped forward and asked in a ritual tone, "Beishan Zouma, crossing three bridges, with a protective spirit—may I ask which celestial mansion Master Yuanliang bows to?"
She was basically asking where he practiced and which spirit he served, trying to verify his authenticity.
The monk laughed and said, "Sister, no need for such formalities. I'm a monk from the south, named Jue Ming. Where's my disciple? Show me quickly."
He was eager to enter the house, but Grandma Liu stopped him with a slight smile and pulled out her tobacco pipe, saying, "Great monk, no rush. Let's have a smoke first."
She packed her pipe, intending to test his power with a little ritual before lighting the tobacco.
My life was hanging by a thread—if this monk had no real power, he might kill me outright. Grandma Liu had to be cautious.
Just as she was about to light the pipe, the monk waved his hand dismissively and said, "Sister, you're too fussy. Don't delay this important business of mine."
At his gesture, the pipe in Grandma Liu's hand suddenly emitted smoke and caught fire—before she even had a chance to strike a match!
This astonishing display stunned everyone, including Grandma Liu.
It was like magic.
Immediately, Grandma Liu nodded to Grandpa and said, "This monk is the real deal. Let him in to examine Xiao Jie."
The monk smiled and moved forward, but my father suddenly blocked him, asking, "Master, why do you want my child to be your disciple? Does becoming your disciple mean he has to become a monk?"
"What's wrong with being a monk? If I don't save him, he'll die," the monk said, displeased.
"I only have this one son. If he becomes a monk, who will continue the Wu family line?" Dad replied, embarrassed.
"Now is not the time for such talk. Saving his life comes first. Master, please come in," Grandpa pushed Dad aside and welcomed the monk warmly.
"Wait…" Suddenly someone shouted from outside.
Everyone stopped and turned to see an elegantly dressed old man approaching with four or five sharply dressed young men.
The monk's face immediately darkened. "Mr. Shen, there should be an order. I came first, and this disciple is mine. No one can take him from me."
The man called Shen smiled and said to Grandpa and Dad, "I can also cure your child. But if I do, he must become my disciple. He won't have to be a monk, and when he grows up, he can marry. Your Wu family will continue. You should consider this."
Hearing this, our family was stunned but thought, "This sounds better—no monkhood required, and the family line continues."
The monk, furious, stomped and shouted, "Shen Xiuyuan, damn you! You ruined my chance. We're not done!"
The monk charged forward, but Shen's bodyguards stepped up and blocked him.
"Master Jue Ming, you're still a monk, right? You shouldn't be fighting. It's better to let the family choose the right person. No forcing," Shen said with a smile.
Before Shen finished, car horns sounded outside, and more people arrived.
A tall, powerful middle-aged man wearing gold-rimmed glasses entered, accompanied by several people and a beautiful seven or eight-year-old girl.
The girl had bright eyes, flawless milk-white skin, two neat braids—truly a natural beauty.
The man smiled at our family and said, "I can cure your child too. If healed, he must become my disciple, but this disciple isn't free. When he grows up, I will marry my daughter to him, continuing your Wu family line. What do you think?"
This offer stunned everyone—a daughter for a cure. The girl looked like a city-born beauty, a perfect match.
What puzzled us most was: where did all these people come from?
Our family spent a tense night with no solution. Suddenly, so many people appeared, each claiming they could cure me. It was overwhelming for both the family and Grandma Liu.