Street Stories: A True Account of a Group of Blind Men in the Underworld

Just as Liu Shang had predicted, Qiao Yang used the back shed—a place to set up an altar and invite the gods—to raise money for Wen Jing's father's medical expenses.

In the main hall on the first floor of the wealthy merchant's house, Qiao Yang took a deep breath, his face instantly becoming solemn and dignified, as if he had become one with the gods.

"The boss's sincerity has moved heaven and earth; he will surely be blessed!"

"Since we are inviting the gods, ordinary people should not be present, lest they offend the divine procession and have impure intentions."

"Have someone prepare a clean offering table, an incense burner, three bundles of high-quality incense sticks, and a bowl of clean water immediately, the sooner the better!"

"Yes! Right away!"

Without the slightest hesitation, the wealthy merchant summoned his male servant in a deep voice and sternly ordered:

"As you say, prepare everything immediately! Anyone else who dares to approach the main hall without my permission will be punished according to family rules!"

Before long, several servants quietly carried in a red lacquered offering table, placed a gleaming bronze incense burner, three bundles of incense sticks, and a bowl of water on it, bowed and left, and gently closed the hall door.

The heavy wooden door separated the inside from the outside.

The large hall was now empty except for Qiao Yang and the wealthy businessman. The air was thick with tension, and even the ticking of the clock seemed amplified.

The wealthy businessman rubbed his hands together, looking at Qiao Yang with a mixture of nervousness and awe.

Qiao Yang walked to the offering table, each step feeling as if he were stepping on a divine altar.

He carefully straightened his clothes and cuffs, smoothing out every wrinkle, as if washing away the dust of the world.

"You light three incense sticks yourself and hand them to me."

The wealthy merchant quickly did as he was told, his hands trembling as he lit the incense sticks and respectfully handed them over.

Qiao Yang held incense in both hands, and, relying on his intuition, bowed to the four directions of south, east, west, and north, reciting an incantation to invoke the gods:

"Due south, Bing and Ding fire, the True Lord of Fire and Earth will come to my aid."

Due east, Jia and Yi wood, the twenty-eighth day of the month, Wu will assist me.

Due west, Gengyin metal, the eighteen Arhats follow me...

After reciting the incantation, he handed the three incense sticks back to the wealthy merchant: "Place them in the incense burner."

The wealthy businessman obediently complied.

Qiao Yang continued chanting the incantation, his voice indistinct and mysterious, carrying a captivating power:

"A stick of incense, a niche in the incense burner, worshiping Buddha, ancestors, and the incense burner deity."

Two incense sticks are placed in the center, with the Radiant Bodhisattva on either side.

"After three incense sticks have burned, the door must be closed, and the Four Heavenly Kings will search inside and outside..."

As the smoke from the cigarette rose, the atmosphere in the hall became increasingly eerie and solemn.

The wealthy businessman's heart was in his throat.

Qiao Yang frowned, turned his head and whispered something.

The wealthy merchant understood immediately, quickly took out a silver dollar, and gently placed it on the corner of the table.

Qiao Yang's chanting suddenly became clear:

"Today, I will strike the incense table and recite the mantra three times."

Five-colored clouds appeared in the northwest, and the Great Master of the South Sea departed from the palace…

The atmosphere grew increasingly tense.

The wealthy merchant gritted his teeth and added another silver dollar.

Qiao Yang's voice rose another notch:

"If you have enough money for incense, then come; if you don't have enough, then don't come..."

The wealthy merchant was sweating profusely, and tremblingly placed down two more silver dollars.

Four silver dollars lay quietly on the corner of the table.

That's enough for Wen Jing's father's surgery.

Qiao Yang was certain.

The next moment, he suddenly opened his blind eyes!

A flash of lightning seemed to pass through his dark eyes!

Facing the swirling smoke of cigarettes, he suddenly shouted:

"good--!"

The sound was as loud as a great bell, making the hall resonate.

The wealthy businessman was so frightened that he trembled all over and almost collapsed to the ground.

Qiao Yang clasped his hands together, bowed before the incense burner, and loudly proclaimed:

"The holy Buddha has manifested! The evil spirits have been completely eradicated!"

"Master, quickly face the incense burner and perform the three kneelings and nine kowtows to express your gratitude!"

The wealthy businessman was completely overwhelmed by this imposing presence, losing his composure and having no time to think.

With a "thump," he knelt down on the cold floor.

"Knock knock knock—"

He kowtowed frantically to the incense burner, his face filled with the ecstatic joy and piety of surviving a calamity.

Qiao Yang stood to the side, his posture upright, like a representative of a god, expressionless, looking down at the wealthy merchants who were bowing down incessantly.

Amidst the rising smoke, he seemed to see the weak and pale face of Wen Jing's father in the hospital.

After the wealthy merchant finished kowtowing, his forehead flushed red, and he raised his head with eyes full of gratitude and awe, Qiao Yang slowly spoke, his voice regaining its calmness, carrying a hint of something that could not be revealed:

"For the next three days, observe a strict vegetarian diet and abstain from meat and fish. After this, the household will be peaceful and prosperous, wealth will flow back to you, and you will have nothing to worry about."

The wealthy businessman nodded repeatedly, as if worshipping a god.

A gentle breeze suddenly blew in from outside the window, and the smoke from the cigarettes swirled and rose into the air, like dragons and mist, lingering for a long time.

Qiao Yang stood amidst the swirling smoke, his blind eyes slightly lowered, his face calm as a deep pool, and a transcendent aura emanating from him.

The wealthy businessman felt a sense of lightness throughout his body; the chill, fear, and distress that had been weighing on him for days vanished in an instant.

He looked at Qiao Yang again, and he realized that Qiao Yang was no longer the fortune teller on the street.

This is clearly a true master hidden in the city, a living immortal concealed in the mortal world!

Qiao Yang said no more, put the four silver dollars into his satchel, picked up his horse-riding pole, and turned to leave.

Only a slender yet upright figure remained, disappearing into the far end of the mansion.

Anxiety burned like a raging fire in Su Yue's heart for a while.

Until that familiar figure finally came into view—

"He's back!"

Ignoring Liu Shang's words, Su Yue rushed out of the ward and ran wildly toward the hospital entrance.

The midday sun slanted down, landing on Qiao Yang's shoulder and coating him with a cold, hard light.

Yet his face remained calm and indifferent, as if he had not just ventured into a den of wolves and risked his life dealing with a cunning and unfathomable tycoon, but had simply gone out for a routine trip.

"Mr. Joe!"

Su Yue rushed forward almost instinctively and reached out to take his arm.

Qiao Yang listened intently and instantly caught her voice. Her usually indifferent lips curved into a very faint, almost imperceptible smile.

"Miss Su, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting." His voice was calm. "Everything went smoothly. Let's go back to your room and talk."

That smile, which caught Su Yue off guard, made her heart race, almost bursting out of her chest.

She held Qiao Yang's arm tightly as they entered the ward, her fingers trembling slightly.

Liu Shang breathed a sigh of relief and smiled:

"I knew it, nothing could stump you."

Qiao Yang nodded slightly, but the moment he took a step, his steps inexplicably faltered.

Su Yue's heart tightened, and she quickly reached out to gently support his elbow:

"Slow down."

The moment their fingers touched, they both froze.

Qiao Yang did not withdraw his hand, but only whispered two words, his voice unusually low: "Thank you."

The voice lacked its usual aloofness and coldness, and instead possessed a warmth that could pierce the heart.

He spoke of the maneuvering he had just made as if it were nothing more than a trivial matter.

Su Yue tilted her head back, her eyes shining with an astonishing light, filled with admiration and lingering fear:

"Mr. Qiao, you're amazing!"

Qiao Yang looked at her, his tone gentle:

"This was just a regular business deal for my master and me."

As soon as he finished speaking, he casually picked up four heavy silver dollars and they landed lightly on the table with a "thud," the sound crisp yet reassuring.

"The payment is here; it's enough to cover Wen Jing's father's medical treatment."

His tone was calm, yet carried an undeniable air of authority.

"As for her marriage to that wealthy businessman, tell Wen Jing to rest assured. Even if she has to pay him a hundred silver dollars, that businessman won't dare to utter another word."

Su Yue stared at the four silver dollars on the table, her eyes instantly welling up with tears.

If it weren't for the person in front of her, she and Wen Jing would have already been driven to despair and fallen into the abyss.

Her voice choked with emotion, but every word was sincere:

"Mr. Qiao, I, Su Yue, will never forget this kindness!"

Qiao Yang's ears turned slightly red, and he showed a rare hint of panic before chuckling softly.

The laughter was deep and pleasant, like a warm breeze caressing the heart, instantly melting Su Yue's entire heart.