sister’s husband

Today, I want to talk about an event that happened in 2001. This was also my last job with my master.

Many years ago, my master befriended a Tibetan named Mu Duo Sang Qi, who made a living traveling through the Kham region, selling Thangka paintings and caterpillar fungus. Although not entirely honest, he was a devout Tibetan Buddhist. He had another Han Chinese friend, a Chengdu native, who ran a pharmacy in Sershu for years.

This Han Chinese pharmacy owner was our employer for this job. My master and I traveled from Xining, enduring a bumpy journey. At that time, checkpoints were set up along the Yunnan-Tibet route, and the roads were difficult to traverse, taking us quite some time. Besides chatting with my master, I was deeply awed by the majestic highland scenery for the first time.

The local people we met along the way were also very warm and sincere. When we stopped to rest, strangers would bring us butter tea. When we tried to pay them, they would smile and wave their hands, refusing our money. Despite the language barrier, their sincerity was deeply moving.

I didn't feel any oppression during that journey; instead, I felt a sense of warmth. When we arrived at the pharmacy, the owner shook my master's hand and said, "I've often heard Mu Duo mention you. It's great that you've come." Then the owner explained the situation to us.

The owner's cousin, who had been running the pharmacy business with him for years, had settled in the area and married a beautiful Tibetan woman. After their marriage, something strange happened at his wife's family home. The husband of the wife's older sister mysteriously disappeared. Despite an extensive search, he was never found. Villagers started to spread rumors, saying he was eaten by wolves, escaped abroad, or other such tales.

The elder sister fell ill from anxiety, unable to eat or sleep. She tormented herself, saying that Buddha was punishing her. The house was plagued with crying children and infestations of insects and mice. The cousin had mentioned that his brother's friend's friend did what we do, so they came to the pharmacy with money to seek the owner's help.

The pharmacy owner explained that although their Tibetan friends seemed poor, they actually weren't. The government annually provided free cattle and sheep, free education for their children, and significant subsidies for each household. The land there was thin, unsuitable for extensive farming, so they herded cattle in the mountains, collected matsutake mushrooms in the winter, and dug for caterpillar fungus in the summer. Their annual income was substantial, but they donated most of their money to temple construction and worshiping Buddha, which made them seem poor. This time, they brought the temple money to find me, so I had to ask for your help. My master listened and then took me outside for a smoke. He told me that we were dealing with a tricky situation this time.

He wasn't sure what we were up against or if it was even our business to handle. Back inside, my master asked the owner if we could visit the wife's family.

The owner called his cousin, and shortly after, the cousin arrived in a van. On the way, the cousin's wife spoke to us in a language we didn't understand, but the cousin translated, saying she was thanking us and pleading for our help. When we arrived at the family home, it was quite impressive, with a large courtyard and a two-story building. The windows had black trapezoidal frames with white lattice patterns, and the window sills held stone plates densely engraved with Tibetan script.

A sheep or cow skull hung above the door, and the ground was covered with fallen walnut leaves. My master said that this might be the local customs, but I found it vastly different from my living environment.

Inside, the cousin's wife led us to see her sister, who was lying on a small bed that looked more like an extended imperial chair, covered with colorful Buddhist paintings. The woman seemed very weak and didn't make any attempt to get up when we arrived.

The cousin served as our translator. Through a series of questions and answers, my master gradually understood what we were dealing with. Afterward, we stepped outside, and my master asked the cousin to tell his sister-in-law that finding her husband would be very difficult. He advised them to thoroughly clean their house and gave us one of the husband's garments to take with us.

My master said that we couldn't give them any answers today and that we'd need to prepare some things and come back tomorrow. That afternoon, my master and I went around Sershu County, buying various items such as candles, animal bones, sesame oil, and a knife. We found a lodging place, which was quite dirty and messy.

My master closed the door and told me that finding someone was the most troublesome task, and we could only determine if the person was alive or not, without pinpointing their exact location. We had to consult the dead. I asked my master if he meant summoning.

In general, when my master encountered a situation with no clues, he would draw talismans and invite deities using various methods similar to the pen fairy. However, this time, my master said that as long as the deceased, no matter their faith or ethnicity, could be summoned.

I can't reveal the exact method of summoning, but it's different from the pen fairy or coin spirit games you've seen. I advise against trying such summoning techniques out of curiosity, as they can be very dangerous. The saying "easy to invite a god, hard to send one away" is very true, and this is my advice to you all. My master consulted the summoned spirit, and we learned that the sister's husband had already passed away. However, as the saying goes, "See the person if alive, see the corpse if dead." If we simply told the cousin that his brother-in-law was dead, they wouldn't believe us.

So, my master suggested that we might need to summon the spirit again in front of them, but this time with more dramatic effects to convince them. My master said he wasn't sure if he could make the spirit appear in physical form and that the success rate was low. Moreover, people might not want to see such a terrifying sight. My master had previously summoned physical forms a few times with his master, and they always appeared as they did when they died, which could be hard for people to accept. Additionally, we were summoning the sister's husband this time. That night, my master and I had dinner at a Sichuan restaurant and then went back to rest.

My master went out once during the night, but I was too sleepy to pay attention. The next morning, we went to the pharmacy and briefly explained the situation to the owner. The owner called his cousin, who showed clear skepticism upon hearing that his brother-in-law was dead. We expected this reaction, so my master said, "Let's go to your sister's house. We'll let you see for yourselves." When we arrived, the sister was still lying on the bed, looking exhausted. Upon hearing her brother's words, she burst into tears, her grief making me feel quite uncomfortable.

They finally agreed to let us perform the summoning in front of them.

Here, I'd like to explain that summoning is a very dangerous act. Once summoned, the spirit must either be sent away properly or dispersed. What I am about to describe was done with the sister's consent to disperse the spirit. Additionally, my master was unsure how to send away spirits of different ethnic beliefs. If the spirit couldn't be sent away after summoning, it would be a big problem. My master drew symbols on the ground, known as "fu," and used a cup filled with blood (which I later learned he had collected the previous night) mixed with incense ash. He covered the cup with a stiff piece of paper, inverted it over the symbols, similar to the principle of the water glass experiment we learned in school.

The purpose of this setup will be explained later. My master began to call the spirit, using a method I cannot disclose, and eventually summoned it. When the sister saw her husband, she couldn't control herself and cried loudly, but was too scared to approach. The husband's appearance was unsettling, with tattered clothes, bloodstains, and unnaturally large eyes. My master told the cousin to let his sister talk to her husband because there would be no other chance. The cousin, clearly distressed and frightened, translated my master's words to his sister. My master, the owner, and I stepped outside to give them privacy.

While smoking and chatting outside, the owner told us that their family had always had a hard life. The parents passed away early, leaving only two daughters, with distant relatives. The elder sister's husband was a hardworking man, though life was tough for him. They had two children and, despite the lack of external troubles, their income was modest, and they lived contentedly. After the younger sister married the cousin and had children, the family gradually regained some vitality. Although not wealthy, they were satisfied with their lives.

My master and I were moved by the owner's story, reflecting on how unpredictable life can be. Everyone dies, but some leave behind grief and memories, while others face scorn. This is why my master always taught me to be a good person. Our profession may not greatly benefit society, but we should live with a clear conscience, knowing we are helping others. Despite the declining morality in society, we should always maintain a kind heart.

After a while, the cousin came out and said his sister had said her goodbyes. He asked my master what to do next. My master led us back inside, asked the cousin to comfort his sister, and told her they were about to send her husband away for good. Believing in reincarnation, my master chose his words carefully, though we had no real experience with "reincarnation." We couldn't deny its possibility. My master dispersed the spirit using the blood in the cup. The husband spoke through the sister, expressing gratitude, making my master realize that everyone should maintain some kindness.