To Raise a Soul 1

Grandfather Yu passed away in the coldest of winter with a smile on his face.

Yu Zhen, his grandson, knelt before his coffin and burned yellow paper in offering. Strong winds and heavy snow howled outside, making the wooden door of the temple creak. A small bulb overhead swayed back and forth due to the draft. The coffin and Yu Zhen’s shadows stretched and contracted with each turn of the lightbulb. The dim light gave the room the feel of a horror movie.

“I asked you to move in with me, but you didn’t want to. Great. Now you can’t live with me anymore. What’s so good about this rundown place? Nowadays, who goes to Taoist temples for fortune-telling? Who would come to a temple like this in the countryside?”

Yu Zhen sniffled and raised an ash-covered hand to wipe his face. The soot smeared with the tears on his face. He cut an extremely sorry figure.

“I said I’d renovate for you, but you didn’t want it. I wanted to accompany you here, but you didn’t allow it. Why were you so stubborn?” he continued in a choked voice. His straight back hunched over, and his dirty hands wiped at his face again.

The wind grew even stronger, and the snow drifted inside.

He picked up a new bundle of paper to continue burning. His eyes swept over to the Ping-An beads on his wrist. He remembered a time, as a child, his grandfather looked at him seriously. His heart tightened. He clenched his fingers into a fist and threw the bracelet directly into the brazier.

“You always said I’m very blessed that I was wronged in my previous life, so this life would be prosperous. But look at us now. Our days living as grandfather and grandson. . . you loved to make up stories to coax me, why not coax me a few more years?”

The Ping-An bracelet, strung together by a red string, crashed into the brazier and hissed under the heat. The flame soared high, and the pungent smell of burning plastic filled the air. Yu Zhen, blasted with a faceful of the flame’s heat and stench, straightened up. The odor grew in strength, and his sadness grew with it.

“You lied to me about this too! What ‘ancestral treasure’ for stabilizing the mind and the soul? These are plastic!”

To think he wanted to burn it to let his grandfather’s afterlife be better!

The tears he suppressed burst free again. He looked at the white cloth on the coffin and took a deep breath, preparing to sob again. Suddenly, a crash came from outside the temple, and the light bulb shook with the sound.

In his fright, the cries that had yet to escape were swallowed back down. His eyes narrowed, and he pressed his lips tightly shut. His shoulders were hunched for a few seconds, then he stood and rushed outside the temple.

The temple was remote. For a few miles around, there was only farmland and a small hill behind it. Usually, few people visited. There was only one bare, narrow, dirt road leading to the entrance. Both sides of the road were lined with trees, and it looked eerie at night.

Because of the snow, the dirt road was coated in thick white, and deep tire tracks were visible.

Yu Zhen ran closer. He saw the tracks led straight into the trees. At the end of the skidmarks, there was a damaged, red sports car wrapped around a broken tree. Frightened, Yu Zhen took in a gulp of cold air, rushed over, and peered into the driver’s side. He could see two people inside. Reaching out, he pulled on the door but couldn’t open it. He called out to the people inside but received no response. His body shook uncontrollably as he fished out his phone and called the police and other emergency services.

“I just wanted to give Grandfather a good final send-off. You rich people, you might have nothing better to do, but why do you have to come to this place–where even the birds don’t come to shit–and drive into trees? . . . Hello . . . The place is Lotus Village, An Yang Town. . .”

When he ended the call, he lifted his sleeve and wiped away the snow on his face. He tried the door again, but it didn’t budge an inch. The two people inside didn’t move, as if already dead. His heart palpitated, and he felt like crying again.

What was this?

“Don’t die, don’t die, you two.”

He searched his surroundings and found a brick. He slammed it against the rear door window with his eyes squeezed shut then tossed aside the brick and reached inside the car. Once the door was open, he climbed inside.

Yu Zhen could finally judge the situation more clearly.

In the front seats was a man and a woman. Both were young. The man, in the driver’s seat, was bent to protect the woman in the passenger’s seat, shielding her under his body. They were covered in blood and their condition unclear.

Yu Zhen first checked the man. His skin was warm, but it didn’t seem like he was breathing. Yu Zhen’s fingers trembled, and he recited a chant for the dead his grandfather taught him when he was young. While chanting, his hand shifted to the woman underneath.

A steady pulse beat against his fingertips. The breath he held suddenly rushed out of him. Leaning forward, he didn’t dare move them much for fear of causing more damage. He looked at the two people’s wounds carefully, thinking about stopping their bleeding first.

“Hold on, the doctor will come soon, hold on.” 

The man’s temperature was dropping slowly, but the woman’s pulse remained steady. Yu Zhen untied the white cloth around his waist and clumsily wrapped it around the wound on the man’s arm. Remembering his grandfather, who would never open his eyes again, the tears that had been stalled began to fall.

“Don’t die. . .” Why do people die? 

Drip. Drip.

The warm tears splashed against the back of the man’s hand. As if burned, the man’s slender fingers jerked.

Hmm? 

Yu Zhen froze, staring at the pale, bloodless hand. His lips trembled, and his heartbeat soared.

It–it had to be an illusion. Although he didn’t want the number of people walking into the next life to increase–he’d even helped wrap the man’s wound–the man was already turning cold. H–How. . .

“Don’t. . .” 

“Ah!” 

He shrieked and dropped the cloth. He dashed out of the car and back into the temple, kneeling before the coffin. He picked up a bundle of yellow paper and stuffed it, desperately, into the brazier. He chattered, “Fake. It’s all fake. It’s a dream. It’s a dream. How–how can a corpse suddenly move? Fake, it’s all fake.”

The snow came to a stop. 

Outside, the siren of a police car and ambulances echoed. Yu Zhen hid behind the door of the temple and peeked through a crack. When he saw two officers walking towards him, his panic receded. He took two deep breaths. Knowing he couldn’t escape, Yu Zhen opened the door.

“Did you call the police?” The older officer asked when he spotted Yu Zhen in the doorway.

Yu Zhen glanced at the accident surrounded by the cruiser and two ambulances. He nodded and asked cautiously, “How are the people in the car?”

“They’ve been rescued. The man’s injury is a bit severe, but the woman wasn’t hurt too badly. There are no major problems,” the younger policeman replied. His eyes swept over the cloth on Yu Zhen’s arm, noticed the coffin in the mourning hall, and nudged his older partner in the arm.

The other officer also saw the situation inside and glanced at Yu Zhen’s face, which still contained youthfulness. His eyes were compassionate, and he asked in a gentle voice, “Are you here alone? Where’s your family?”

Yu Zhen shook his head. “There is no one else, just me.” 

He looked at the ambulance and asked for confirmation, “Is that man just–just injured heavily?” Instead of being cold?

This question was a little strange. The two officers exchanged looks and guessed he must have been scared. The older calmly said, “His injury was heavy, but fortunately, the bleeding was staunched. Otherwise, he might not have held on until the doctors arrived. Did you bandage him?”

Yu Zhen nodded again, his fingers contracting, and his heartbeat slowed.

It really looked like just an illusion he’d seen earlier. The winter was cold, so maybe he didn’t feel the man’s pulse properly.

“Did you break the rear door window? If you used anything, can you explain in detail?” The officers continued their questioning, taking out a notebook.

Yu Zhen, having calmed down, honestly answered the policemen’s questions. At their request, he found the brick he’d used.

The tree pinning the car down had been moved, and the doors were open. The people inside had been transferred to the ambulances. The two emergency vehicles disappeared down the road as Yu Zhen pointed out the brick.

“The snow’s slippery, and it’s remote out here. I don’t know if the man’ll make it to the hospital.”

The younger officer sighed. Yu Zhen looked at him with a tilted head. Just as he prepared to bid them farewell and head back into the temple, his vision swam and blackened. The chill in the soles of his feet spread upward. He swayed and fell to the ground.

“Hey! What happened?” 

“Young man, what happened? Are you feeling unwell somewhere?” 

“Hurry! Come help me move him!”

The chill invaded Yu Zhen’s entire body. His head was particularly painful. With determination, Yu Zhen forced his eyes to stay open as he was moved and saw the officers’ lips open and close. But it was a strange, low voice that echoed in his ear.

“Don’t cry.” 

What crying? Who’s talking? 

“Wait for me.” 

Wait for who? Who are you? 

Yu Zhen shook his head. His chest suddenly warmed, and the pain in his head eased away. His cold limbs slowly heated up, and his consciousness broke away from the pain’s fog. Once his senses had returned, the older officer’s face was in front of him. His voice could be heard.

“Young man, what happened? Come, drink some hot water first.”

A thermos cup was stuffed into his hand. Yu Zhen opened his mouth but couldn’t speak. He shook his head and returned the thermos. Then he headed into the temple.

An illusion. It was an illusion. He must not have been resting well, so he was having hallucinations.

In the ambulance, the nurse wiped away the blood on the patient’s face and saw his lips move as if speaking. She leaned over a little.

“Don’t cry. . .”

“Don’t cry?” The nurse wondered. The body suddenly shook, scaring her. She reached out and pressed down on the bed. She shouted, “Slow down! Don’t you think the patient is injured enough?”

“Sorry, sorry. The road’s covered in snow. There was a pit I didn’t see,” the driver explained quickly.

“Be quiet.”

The doctor concentrating on the wounds suddenly frowned. The nurse quieted and looked at the doctor, then glanced at the patient. HIs handsome facial features were revealed once all the blood was wiped away. Remembering the ruined sports car, the nurse sighed internally.

Rich people really were. . . unbelievable.