There was no better way at present to calm Li Juan other than this method. To truly resolve the matter, however, we had to uncover the root cause—namely, the real reason behind Li Na's death.
As I slowly lowered my chanting, Li Juan's eyelids grew heavy, and finally she slipped into a deep sleep.
Li Na's parents watched in disbelief. Perhaps they couldn't quite understand how a mere child could accomplish something that even Master Cui could not.
Just then, Liu Peng, unable to contain his curiosity, asked eagerly, "Wu Jie, how did you do that? Hypnosis? I've seen those hypnosis masters on TV — they're amazing! Just a few words and people fall asleep right there."
I shot him a side glance, thinking, Hypnosis my foot! All the mysterious high-level aura I'd been cultivating was instantly shattered by his comment.
"Little brother," Li's father asked, his tone suddenly hopeful, "is Juan better now? You calmed her so quickly just now."
"No," I shook my head. "I've only put her into a temporary sleep. If left undisturbed, she might sleep for several hours. But her condition is far from simple."
"Then what exactly is wrong with her?" Li's father said, his face drawn and exhausted. "Since her sister's burial, she's been like this. Because you're a classmate of Na Na's, please help us. Things have been so bad lately—one disaster after another. If something happens to Juan too, we won't be able to go on."
Li's mother quietly wiped away tears beside him.
Seeing the family's plight, I felt a pang of sympathy.
"Uncle, rest assured. I will help as much as I can. But I have a few questions for you, and I hope you'll answer honestly."
"Ask away. We'll tell you everything. I know how these things work. If you solve this, we'll repay you, though we might not be able to give much," Li's father replied awkwardly.
"Uncle, I won't charge you a dime. I was Na Na's classmate. I'm saddened by what happened, and I hope you can find peace," I said sincerely.
"That's not right. How can we let you work for nothing…" Li's father objected reasonably.
In our line of work, there's a saying: never work for free. It's called 'getting a token.' No charge, no luck.
Seeing his insistence, I relented, "If you really want to give something, just a small token will do."
Only then did Li's father relax and ask, "So, what did you want to ask?"
"I want to know if Na Na did anything strange before her suicide. Do you know why she killed herself?" I inquired.
"Strange behavior? Not really. My wife and I run a small noodle shop on the outskirts of Yanbei City. We're busy from dawn till dusk. We didn't pay much attention to the two girls. Life's tough these days—working hard all year and barely making enough…" Li's father started rambling about their difficult life.
I didn't interrupt, patiently listening. Life is hard for everyone, especially those at the bottom. I understood. After all, I came from a poor mountain village myself. Just recently, Uncle Hu and I barely had enough money for a bowl of noodles.
Finally, Li's father got to the point: "After the college entrance exam, I noticed Na Na was off. Silent for days, no smiles. The day she died, my wife and I were busy at the noodle shop till after ten at night. When we got home, we found her in the bathtub, wrists slit, blood all over the water. By the time we discovered her, her body was cold…"
He broke down sobbing. A grown man shaking uncontrollably broke my heart.
"My condolences, uncle." I didn't know what else to say. Words wouldn't help.
After they composed themselves, I continued, "So you don't know why she committed suicide?"
They both shook their heads.
Li's mother said, "Na Na was always obedient, a good student. She got into a key high school. Though she didn't get into a top university, we never blamed her. Any university is good enough. We just can't understand why she took her own life."
From their words, I gathered Li's parents were too busy to notice Na Na's emotional state—and probably unaware of her relationship with Wang Chaoyang.
Since they wouldn't say it, I didn't bring it up, sparing Na Na's memory.
I glanced outside; night had fallen.
I could feel the ominous energy thickening in the house after dark.
All the problems stemmed from Li Na.
"Can I visit Li Na's grave?" I asked.
"Sure, I'll take you," Li's father said.
I nodded, called Uncle Hu, and followed Li's father outside.
Just as we neared the door, I remembered to warn Li's mother, "Auntie, don't put anything harmful in Na Na's room. Until this is resolved, she'll keep getting worse. She's lucid from 8 to 10 a.m. and 12 to 2 p.m., but during other times she's violent. During those clear periods, feed her well."
Li's mother nodded repeatedly, thanking me.
We headed towards the graveyard.
In Yanbei, there's a local custom: unmarried girls can't be buried in the ancestral tombs. So Li Na's grave stood alone in a wild patch outside the village.
Thinking back to meeting her just days ago—and now seeing her lone grave amid the wild grass—my heart ached.
About ten meters from the grave, Li's father suddenly stopped, trembling and stepping back.
I looked up, and in the dim moonlight, standing beside the lonely grave was a figure—shaped strikingly like Li Na.