Chapter 83: The Buddha Amulet (2 / 2)

The car rolled slowly forward, and just as we stopped at a red light, my phone rang. A glance at the screen showed an unfamiliar number, but I answered it anyway.

"Hello, this is Zhang."

"Is this Master Zhang?"

"Yes, speaking. Who's this?" I asked, puzzled. Only close contacts had this number.

"I'm Mr. Ke," came a trembling voice on the other end.

That name shocked me. He was the wealthy boss from Guangdong I had met at Yi Zhai before—the one whose parents' remains were taken by a Thai Black Ajarn. I remembered it well. In Thailand, some sorcerers known as Ajarns—especially the "Black Robe" types—are notorious for practicing sinister magic using dead bodies and other dark rituals.

Take for example: Kuman Thong, spirit dolls, Phra Khun Paen amulets, or raising ghost children. People familiar with Thai Buddha amulets know there's a major difference between righteous (white) and dark (black) amulets. The righteous ones are blessed by respected monks—no evil in them, like our own Guanyin statues. But the Black Ajarns? They revel in the grotesque—grave robbing, bone stealing, corpse rituals.

If I had to guess, Ke probably let them use his parents' bones to make a dark amulet, hoping for wealth in return.

Honestly, such cult-like practices aren't unheard of here in China either. Some heretics worship malevolent totems, gaining "power" through brutal sacrifices. The resemblance to Black Ajarns is uncanny.

So I was startled he reached out to me now. I asked, "What's wrong?"

"Please help me… Master Zhang, no one else can save me. Please… save me." Mr. Ke's voice was desperate, almost pleading.

Something clearly went wrong. I asked him to explain.

Panicked, Ke said the trouble stemmed from his parents' remains. As I pressed him for details, he confessed that before returning to Guangdong, he'd fallen deep into gambling. Despite his fortune, he was a heavy card player. It started small, but eventually, he was gambling hundreds of thousands, then millions.

Right before his return, he went to Macau—and in a single night lost over 13 million yuan. On top of old debts, he was wiped out. His business floundered too. A shipment of furs rotted, losing another 6 million. Mr. Ke was utterly bankrupt.

Desperate, a friend told him about Thai Buddha amulets—particularly how effective ones from Black Ajarns could bring fast fortune. He decided to try.

He paid 100,000 yuan to a Black Robe Ajarn, who agreed to make an amulet—but only if Ke provided his parents' bones.

So he remembered me—a yin-yang master—and used my help to get those bones. From then on, luck turned sharply. He said it was like he'd become Chow Yun-fat himself: unstoppable at the tables, money flowing in. There was just one condition: every night, he had to kowtow 18 times to the amulet—no exceptions.

Thanks to that wealth, he repaid all his debts. Things were looking up.

But one night in Macau, he drank too much with a third-rate celebrity. They hit it off and naturally ended up spending the night together. That night, he forgot the kowtows.

That's when his nightmare began.

Within days, he constantly felt insulted and beaten—by unseen forces. One day, while driving his son out for fun, he stopped at a red light. His son suddenly pointed and said, "Grandpa and Grandma are crossing the road."

Then he opened the door and ran out—right into a speeding car.

The boy died instantly.

But it didn't stop there. Ke started dreaming every night of his parents strangling him, screaming that he was unfilial and dragging him back to "teach him a lesson." Terrified, Ke ran back to the Ajarn and begged for help.

The Ajarn's answer? One million yuan. No negotiation.

But Ke had lost everything again. He couldn't pay.

As I listened to his trembling recount, I frowned. He pleaded, "Master Zhang, I know I was wrong. I really do. My son is dead. My wife left me. I have nothing left. But I don't want to die…"

This put me in a dilemma. He had made a grievous error—but his parents' pain also partially involved me. I'd let those bones fall into the wrong hands. Perhaps this was fate.

After some hesitation, I agreed. My reasoning was simple: when the couple's spirits strangled me in that hotel last time, I sensed their resentment. They weren't at peace. Maybe they were forced into the amulet. If that's the case, a recitation of the Rebirth Mantra and a short ritual might release them. It wouldn't take long, and I could earn some yin virtue.

"You should've thought of the consequences earlier," I said. "I'll help—but only because your parents are suffering, and I share part of the blame. Send me your address."

"Thank you, Master Zhang! Thank you! I swear, I'll change my ways!" Ke cried gratefully.

Soon, a text with the address came through.

Beside me, Jiang Shiyu said, "I'll take you. You won't get a cab easily from here."

"Thanks," I said.

She glanced at the call log. "Who was that? You two talked for ages."

I didn't hide anything. I told her everything.

She gasped. "How could those Thai 'Buddhas' hurt people like that?!"

I explained that what they practice can't really be called Buddhism anymore. It's mostly sorcery now. The land over there is full of yin energy—too much darkness and imbalance. Even men can become women. Their magic? Just the tip of the iceberg.

Before long, we reached the address Ke sent.

The moment I stepped out of the car, a cold wind hit my face.