Yin Yang Diviner

I clung to the wooden window sill of my old home, my fingers digging into the frame. The cold wood made my knuckles turn white, but I felt no pain. The bitter scent of mugwort water and the warm aroma of sandalwood still lingered in my nostrils. My ears were perked up, desperately trying to catch any sound from the direction of the old cemetery behind the village. But the night was like a black cotton quilt soaked in water, completely silencing all sounds. Only the rustling of the old locust tree branches outside the yard, blown by the wind, made my heart race.

Grandma moved a small stool and sat down beside me, wrapping me tightly in a thick cotton-padded coat. Her rough hands stroked my back repeatedly, trying to reassure me. But her own hands were trembling slightly, and her voice was low: "Don't be afraid, my dear grandson. Your second grandfather is very capable, and Butcher Zhang's knife is the nemesis of evil spirits. That weasel spirit won't escape."

I nodded, but my eyes were still hot.

Just now, peering out the window, I only saw my second grandfather carrying a peach wood sword, my grandfather holding a flashlight, and Butcher Zhang carrying his black iron butcher knife. The three figures plunged into the darkness of the old cemetery and disappeared in the blink of an eye. That ominous place, overgrown with knee-high weeds and crumbling tombstones, is a man-eating burial ground, the lair of the weasel spirit. I was afraid that the monster would retaliate, afraid that my second grandfather would be injured, afraid that even Butcher Zhang wouldn't be able to subdue it. Countless fears choked me, making it hard to breathe.

I've seen Zhang the Butcher's knife before.

In the village, everyone sought him out for slaughtering pigs and sheep. His blade, forged from black iron, gleamed dark from being soaked in pig's blood and sheep's fat, and honed to an unparalleled sharpness, cutting bones and meat with clean, decisive strokes. Passed down through three generations, the blade had slain at least eight hundred, if not a thousand. A palpable aura of malevolence emanated from it; ordinary evil spirits would flee at the mere smell of blood. This was why my second grandfather had specifically invited him—no spirit, monster, or demon feared a butcher's knife imbued with the malevolent aura of countless lives taken.

But that weasel was no ordinary wild beast; it was a weasel spirit that had cultivated for a hundred years and absorbed the souls of living beings. I had personally witnessed its evil form in human form, hooking my soul. A huge boulder always hung in my heart, weighing heavily on my mind.

The wick of the kerosene lamp in the room crackled, its dim yellow light flickering, casting Grandma's long shadow on the earthen wall. I huddled in my cotton-padded coat, my mind replaying the hideous image of the weasel spirit in my dream, the chilling sound of its footsteps mimicking mine, and the steady beat of my great-uncle as he banged the gong to call back the soul. I felt a mixture of fear and reverence, along with a vague, inexplicable flutter in my heart.

I want to become like my second grandfather.

They possess the ability to ward off evil spirits, protecting themselves, their grandparents, and those around them, so that they will no longer be bullied by evil spirits or live in fear indoors.

This idea took even deeper root in my heart when I was ten years old.

After an unknown amount of time, a sound finally came from the direction of the old cemetery behind the village.

First came a sharp, piercing screech, like fingernails scraping against glass, or the dying howl of a wild beast, shattering the silence of the night and sending a shiver down my spine. Then came the crisp sound of a peach wood sword cutting through the air, the crackling of burning talismans, and Zhang the Butcher's ear-splitting roar, all mingling with the wind and the rustling of wild grass, exploding in the darkness.

"You beast! How dare you resist!"

It's Zhang the Butcher's voice!

I jumped up from the stool, peered out the window, my heart pounding in my chest. Grandma stood up too, gripping my arm tightly, her face pale.

The hissing grew weaker and weaker, turning from fierce to pitiful pleas for mercy, and finally, it faded away completely, becoming as faint as a wisp of smoke.

The area in front of the old cemetery has returned to silence.

It's quieter than before.

There was no eerie wind, no hissing, no strange noises from the wild grass, and even the fishy smell that had haunted me for half the night had vanished without a trace.

done?

I was secretly delighted, but still unsure, and stared intently at the road at the village entrance.

After about the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, three familiar figures finally emerged from the darkness.

Leading the way was Second Grandfather, his peach wood sword tucked at his waist, his gong neatly sheathed, his face still calm and composed, though some bits of wild grass clung to the hem of his clothes, a sign that a fight had just taken place. Grandfather followed beside him, his flashlight now extinguished, his face showing the relief of surviving a close call, tinged with a hint of admiration.

At the very back is Butcher Zhang.

He still had that same imposing appearance, holding the black iron butcher's knife in his hand, with a few drops of golden blood on the blade, and in his other hand, he held a furry thing—the very same weasel spirit that had cultivated for a hundred years!

It was no longer the beautiful creature it had been in the dream, nor the ferocious one it had been in the old graveyard. Its small body hung limply, its golden fur covered in dirt and blood. Half of its head had been severed, and its dark eyes were wide open, devoid of any life. It was completely lifeless.

A century of cultivation, destroyed in a single day.

The evil spirit was eventually killed.

"They're back! They're back!" Grandma exclaimed excitedly, tears instantly streaming down her face. She quickly ran to the gate and opened it.

I ran out after him, my bare feet sinking into the cold stone slabs. The sensation couldn't dampen my joy. I ran to my great-uncle, looked up at him, my eyes sparkling: "Great-uncle, is it dead? It won't come back to hurt me anymore, will it?"

My second grandfather looked down at me, reached out and touched the top of my head. The warmth of his fingertips seeped through my hair, a comforting and reassuring feeling. He nodded, his tone calm yet resolute: "Dead. His soul has vanished. He will never haunt you again."

Butcher Zhang threw the weasel's corpse onto the open ground in the yard, wiped the sweat from his face, and laughed loudly, "This wicked beast tried to run, but it couldn't even move before the murderous aura of my butcher's knife. One stroke, and it's done! Mr. Qin, rest assured, from now on, this thing will never harm the children in this village again!"

Grandpa laughed and chimed in, "Thanks to you, second son, and thanks to Butcher Zhang, otherwise my grandson would have been hopeless."

After they entered the house, Grandma quickly brought out the hot tea she had prepared beforehand and poured it for Second Grandpa and Butcher Zhang. Butcher Zhang took a sip of the hot tea before slowly recounting what had happened at the old cemetery.

It turned out that as soon as the three of them reached the edge of the old graveyard, the weasel spirit knew it couldn't hide any longer and darted out of the weeds, no longer bothering to conceal itself.

It was twice the size of an ordinary weasel, its golden fur standing on end, its eyes bloodshot, its body upright, its front paws outstretched, its nails black and curved, and it spoke in a shrill, hoarse voice, full of venom: "Qin Tianyang! We've never crossed paths, why are you ruining my plans! This child's destiny is naturally suited to enhance my cultivation, if you stop me, I will make sure your Qin family never has peace!"

The second grandfather stood at the front, his face showing no fear, and coldly rebuked: "You wicked beast, you have cultivated for a hundred years but have done nothing good, instead sucking away souls and harming children, violating the rules of the underworld. Today I will surely eliminate you to set things right!"

As soon as he finished speaking, the second grandfather raised his hand and flung out three talismans to ward off evil. The talismans spontaneously combusted in mid-air, turning into three balls of golden flame that flew towards the weasel spirit. The weasel spirit screamed, and a layer of black mist rose around its body as it tried to resist, but the talisman fire was pure yang fire, which was specifically designed to counteract yin and evil. In an instant, it burned the black mist away completely, and a large patch of its fur was singed off, causing it to writhe on the ground in pain.

Enraged, it lunged forward, its claws whistling with cold wind, aiming for Second Grandfather's neck. Second Grandfather, however, was prepared. He drew his peach wood sword, the cinnabar runes engraved on its blade lighting up. He slashed at its back, sending it flying backward, crashing into a broken tombstone and spitting out a mouthful of black blood.

Even though it was injured, this hundred-year-old weasel was still fierce and struggled to launch another counterattack.

Just then, Butcher Zhang stepped forward, picked up his black iron butcher knife, and shouted loudly.

This shout, carrying the unique masculine and murderous aura of a butcher, coupled with the killing intent accumulated over a century on the cleaver, instantly swept across the entire old graveyard. The weasel spirit, being of the yin nature, was most afraid of this extremely masculine and murderous aura. It was so frightened that it trembled all over, lay on the ground, unable to move, its bloodshot eyes filled with terror.

"You beast, prepare to die!"

Zhang the Butcher raised his knife and brought it down with a flash of cold light. The Xuan Tie Butcher's Blade, carrying immense force, struck the Weasel Demon's neck directly.

There was no earth-shattering noise, only a slight muffled thud.

The century-old weasel spirit, without even the strength to resist, was directly slain by the butcher's knife. Its spirit dissipated, its yin energy vanished, and the cold, yin energy that had accumulated in the old graveyard for many years disappeared without a trace with its death.

"The yin energy in that place dissipated instantly, and we won't attract evil spirits if we go there again," Butcher Zhang said with a smile after taking a sip of tea.

As I listened, the last trace of fear in my heart completely vanished.

I squatted in the yard, looking at the corpse of the weasel spirit. Although I was still scared, I felt mostly relieved. This monster that had haunted me for half the night and almost stolen my soul was finally gone. I would never have nightmares again, never be followed by it again, and never live in fear again.

My second grandfather walked over to me, squatted down, and looked me in the eye. His gaze became more serious: "Yiheng, remember what happened today."

I looked up at my second grandfather and nodded seriously.

"You were born on the fifteenth of the seventh month at midnight in a yin year, yin month, and yin day. Your fate is special; your soul is inherently unstable, with weak yang energy and strong yin energy, making you most susceptible to being targeted by spirits and evil spirits." My second grandfather's voice was slow, each word etched into my heart. "From now on, you are forbidden to go to old cemeteries or mass graves—these kinds of yin places. You are forbidden to go out alone late at night. You are forbidden to provoke spirits like foxes, weasels, white foxes, willows, and gray foxes. Do you understand?"

"I remember, Second Grandpa," I answered loudly, tears welling up in my eyes again. "I will never be naughty again, and I will never cause trouble again."

"It's not about being naughty or not." My second grandfather gently wiped away my tears. "Your fate dictates that you will be inextricably linked to the supernatural and the spirits throughout your life. I can save you today, but I can't stay by your side forever. You must learn to protect yourself. When you grow up, if you're willing, I will teach you skills so that you can ward off evil and save your own life."

My eyes widened in disbelief.

My second grandfather wants to teach me some skills?

He taught me how to draw talismans, how to call back souls, how to slay demons, and how to become a yin-yang master like him.

I nodded vigorously, tears streaming down my face—tears of joy: "I'm willing! Second Grandpa, I'm willing to learn! I want to learn your skills, I want to protect myself, and protect Grandpa and Grandma!"

My second grandfather looked at me with a faint smile on his face. It was the first time I had ever seen him smile so gently.

That night, Butcher Zhang stayed for dinner, and Grandpa killed one of the family's chickens to treat this hero who had slain the demon. Second Grandpa buried the weasel spirit's body in the deepest part of the old cemetery, sealed it with talismans to prevent it from retaliating in the slightest, and also put up several house-protecting talismans in our yard, setting up a simple yang formation to protect the peace of our home.

I lay on the earthen bed, with the soul-stabilizing talisman under my pillow, smelling the scent of mugwort and sandalwood. That night, there were no nightmares, no chilling cold, and no evil spirits causing trouble. I slept soundly.

I know that from that moment on, the story of the weasel that steals souls became my deepest fear in my childhood, and also the initial opportunity for me to step into the world of Yin and Yang.

My second grandfather's words, "When you grow up, I'll teach you skills," took root and sprouted in my heart like a seed, waiting to emerge many years later in that old house on the outskirts of the city.

Later I learned that the hundred-year-old weasel spirit was just one of the most insignificant creatures in the world of spirits. The five great immortal families of fox, weasel, white fox, willow, and gray fox, mountain spirits, tree monsters, water ghosts, river demons, zombies, and fierce ghosts—the Yin-Yang world hidden behind the mundane world is far larger, more bizarre, and more dangerous than I imagined.

My special destiny, born in a yin year, yin month, and yin day, is not accidental, but a preordained fate.

But back then, I didn't understand these things.

All I know is that I escaped a calamity, my second grandfather saved my life, and I have a dream I want to pursue for the rest of my life—

Become a geomancer like my great-uncle, wielding a sword to ward off evil, beating a gong to summon souls, guarding peace in the region, and protecting those around you.

After dawn, the chill of the old cemetery dissipated, and the villagers never encountered evil spirits again. The story of Butcher Zhang slaying the demon with his butcher's knife became a legend that has been passed down in the village for many years.

My second grandfather stayed for two days before leaving his hometown to continue his travels. Before leaving, he left me a small peach wood safety buckle, which I hung around my neck to protect my soul and prevent evil spirits from easily approaching again.

I touched the safety amulet around my neck, watched my second grandfather's departing figure, and secretly made a vow in my heart.

When I grow up, I will definitely find my second grandfather and learn his skills from him.

This wait has lasted for more than a decade.

It wasn't until I graduated from university and was living a life of aimless sponging off my parents that my father sent me to that old house in the suburbs, where I saw my white-haired second grandfather again. That long-forgotten childhood memory was then reawakened.

And I finally embarked on that predetermined path of Yin and Yang.