Chapter 1: Auntie’s nine-year prophecy

Chinese Taoist culture has a long history, spanning thousands of years. Great figures have emerged throughout its history, with countless records of Taoism either buried in the sands of time or lost in the countryside. Once glorious, Taoism has mostly become a part of tourism culture today...

There is a Taoist whose life is legendary, yet also twisted and full of helplessness. He has saved many lives, including mine and my aunt's; I learned about this Taoist's life from many people in my hometown.

This is the story of the last Taoist, Cha Wenbin, told through the life of one person.

"Cha" is a rare surname. According to the "Hundred Family Surnames," the Cha (查) surname is one of the Chinese surnames, ranked 397th. It originates from the Jiang clan, descendants of the Yan Emperor. The son of Qi King during the Spring and Autumn period was enfeoffed in "Zha," and his descendants took the place name as their surname, which later dropped the "木" (wood) radical and became "Cha." It also derives from the Mi surname, as a noble family during the Spring and Autumn period was enfeoffed in Cha County, with descendants taking the place name as their surname.

**Chapter One**

In the mountainous area of West Zhejiang, there is a village called Hongcun, where a family with the surname Xu lives. The head of the family is a carpenter, skilled in woodworking, and is known as Xu Luban. His ancestors often made a living by crafting coffins, and he naturally inherited the family business. Despite his skills, the nature of his work made it difficult for ordinary women to find him appealing. After many trials, with the help of a matchmaker, he finally married a woman from a neighboring village. In that era, contraception was not well developed, and over ten years, they had three daughters and two sons. With a growing family, the couple decided to have the wife undergo sterilization.

Who is Xu Luban? He is my grandfather.

Another ten years passed, and unexpectedly, my grandmother became pregnant again. My grandfather was unsure whether to be happy or worried; after all, his wife had undergone sterilization. As her belly grew day by day, she eventually gave birth after ten months. My grandfather, now 40, was surprised to have another daughter. He named her "Xiu," who is my aunt, born in 1977.

Naturally, my grandfather was overjoyed at having a daughter in his old age. On the day of her full moon celebration, they held a grand feast, inviting the villagers. Amidst the festive atmosphere, a shabby Taoist in tattered robes, carrying a bag of Eight Trigrams, passed by the Xu family. A curious villager stopped him, suggesting that the Taoist should fortune-tell for the newborn girl. The Taoist agreed and took a glance at the swaddled infant. He suddenly looked alarmed and called my grandfather into the house, speaking softly, "Congratulations on your daughter! It's a joyful occasion, but I have something to say. I'm not sure if I should."

Though my grandfather was a carpenter, he was also quite reasonable and smiled, saying, "Speak freely, Taoist. No matter if it's good or bad, we'll have a drink later!"

The Taoist looked at Xu Luban and said, "Your daughter is beautiful, but I fear she won't be easy to raise."

My grandfather, taken aback, was furious. "How can you say such ominous things just after I have a daughter?" He pushed the Taoist, who was already in tattered clothes, causing them to tear, and a copper coin fell out, rolling on the ground.

The commotion drew my grandmother from the room, and upon seeing the shabby Taoist arguing with my grandfather, she stepped in to separate them. My mother recalled that she was quite a character; without asking what happened, she scolded my grandfather for his rudeness and apologized to the Taoist, offering to mend his clothes. Insisting that he stay for a meal, the Taoist couldn't refuse and joined the feast. After a few drinks, he became bold and boasted about being the head of Maoshan and his exceptional Taoist skills, only to be met with laughter from the guests.

Whether the Taoist was drunk or not, when asked again about the baby's fortune, he repeated, "This little girl will have a short life; she won't be easy to raise. I fear she will face difficulties." The crowd was taken aback; how could a Taoist, supposedly benevolent, speak such ill of a child? Especially my grandfather, who had just calmed down, flared up again and ran into the house for an axe, but was stopped by everyone, who scolded him.

My grandmother was now fully aware of the situation and couldn't hold back her anger, shouting at the Taoist, "What kind of rogue Taoist are you? I welcomed you kindly, and you curse my daughter! Get out of here!"

Despite being insulted, the Taoist remained calm, touched his chest, looked up at the sky, and said, "Don't be angry; I only speak the truth. Your daughter may not live past nine. If she faces trouble, you can find me at Wulipu in An County." With a bow to the crowd, he turned and left, leaving everyone stunned and my grandfather's family fuming. Though others advised not to take it seriously, the Taoist's words left a shadow in my superstitious grandmother's heart.

Fast forward nine years, my aunt not only grew up healthy and intelligent but was also very pretty, especially with her large, watery eyes that endeared her to the adults. Gradually, my grandmother's family had almost forgotten the Taoist's ominous words from nine years ago.

In many rural areas, when someone dies, they hold elaborate funerals, known as "joyous funerals," where the whole village helps out, feasting and celebrating, yet there is always a dish of white tofu present, hence it is also called "eating tofu rice."

In the summer of 1986, the very day I was born, an elderly man passed away in Hongcun. In those relatively material-poor times, a joyous occasion meant a chance to feast. My grandparents took my aunt to eat tofu rice.

During the meal, my aunt enjoyed herself, and after the feast, the three of them set off home under the bright stars. Their home was about two miles from the deceased's family, and on the way, there was a reservoir about 300 meters long. As a child, I often snuck off to swim there, only to be caught by my grandmother each time and given a good scolding for no apparent reason...

The road was deserted. Walking those two miles took about ten minutes, and this path was frequently traveled. That night, the moon and stars shone brightly, illuminating the narrow path.

In summer, something always attracts children: fireflies. My aunt chased the glowing insects, laughing as they danced ahead, while my grandparents watched her fondly from behind.

My grandfather, puffing on a pipe, remarked to my grandmother, "Who said my girl is hard to raise? Since her birth, she hasn't even caught a cold. That Taoist must be a fraud!"

My grandmother reminded my aunt to slow down, and before long, they arrived home.

Initially, my aunt slept with my grandparents, but as she grew older, she was moved to sleep with her third aunt. My grandfather had four daughters and two sons; my eldest sister, eldest brother-in-law, and my mother were all married off, leaving only the third aunt, my aunt, and a younger uncle still living at home.

Before sleeping, my aunt shared the delicious foods she had at the feast with her third aunt, which made her very envious. Since my aunt's arrival, my grandparents saved all the good things for her. For instance, when they had corn, my aunt always got the best part, while her third aunt had to settle for the end. Nevertheless, my aunt was quite lovable, and after washing her feet, her third aunt carried her to bed. With her aunt's company, my aunt soon fell asleep, until a scream in the middle of the night shattered the peaceful life of the Xu family after nine years...