A Prodigal Son Turns Back, One Lost Finds His Way Home

A Prodigal Son Turns Back, One Lost Finds His Way Home

That night, heavy snow swirled through the air. Another bitter cold had arrived.

Around Hanging Bridge in Weishui County lay the homes of the poor.

On Youfang Street, before a dilapidated house draped in white mourning banners, everything was covered in plain white, looking bleak and desolate.

Over the past two days, quite a few commoners had lingered outside this house.

For one thing, the house had stood empty for over twenty years. Now that someone had moved back in, it naturally drew the curiosity of neighbors and townsfolk.

For another, they wanted to see how the shoemaker, famous throughout Hanging Bridge, had fallen so low—years ago, the old shoemaker's business had flourished, and he had naturally saved up some money, moving to the Skybridge district where only the wealthy could afford to live. What a pity that his son had been useless, squandering the family fortune in Tongbao Gambling House. Even the small residence in Skybridge had been sold, forcing them to move back into their ancestral home in Hanging Bridge.

Thirdly, the old shoemaker had been angered to death. Mourning music had surrounded the house for days, drawing in some commoners eager to watch the spectacle.

At the second watch of the night, snow danced through the air. On the streets and alleys, a night watchman met a dung carrier. As they chatted idly, they briefly recounted the changes that had befallen the shoemaker's family these past few days.

But after they passed by, neither knew that in a narrow alley outside that dilapidated house—

A figure had heard every word of their conversation.

Amid the snow, the figure stood silently in the darkness of the alley, motionless as a corpse. Only after the watchman and dung carrier had passed each other and gone far away did he quietly return.

He clearly looked like a hunched old man in his fifties or sixties, yet when he stepped onto the soft snow, he left behind not the slightest trace.

It was exceedingly strange.

The figure came to the crumbling entrance of the shoemaker's house. With a light kick against the wall, he rose with the frigid wind as though weightless, landing soundlessly in the courtyard.

Inside the house, in one of its rooms—

A square-faced young man had settled the old woman who had just fallen asleep. He gently shut her door, then turned into another small room.

Inside, the traces of its use as a mourning hall had not yet been completely cleared away. Joss paper lay scattered about, incense ash had piled up, and several swaying oil lamps flickered, bringing threads of warmth.

On the wall hung a portrait of the lean old shoemaker.

Against the wall stood an old wooden bed.

The square-faced young man walked to the bed and took a cloth bundle from beneath the pillow, feeling the cold, hard touch of broken silver within.

In silence, perhaps exhausted from burying the old shoemaker during the day, he lay down, hugged the bundle tightly, wrapped himself in the bedding, and fell asleep.

Half asleep and half awake, perhaps because of the bitter cold or the misery in his heart, the square-faced young man suddenly sneezed!

Achoo!

He sniffled, rolled over, and was about to go back to sleep.

Then he suddenly heard a crisp bang!

It sounded like some heavy object hitting the floor!

The square-faced young man jolted awake and lit the oil lamp.

He saw that the old man's portrait above his head had somehow fallen to the ground, perhaps because the wind was fierce and the snowstorm raging.

The square-faced young man crawled out from under the covers, picked up the portrait, and sighed as he muttered,

"Dad, your son has wronged you."

"But don't worry. I've already borrowed quite a bit. Tomorrow, I'll borrow a little more from Magistrate Zhou's son, and it'll be enough."

"He and I are close. He definitely won't be stingy."

"Once I've borrowed the money, I'll go back to Tongbao Gambling House and win back everything I lost!"

"Then I'll take Mom back to Skybridge, and move your grave to Bright Moon Mausoleum. Rest easy, Dad!"

As he spoke, a gust of cold wind swept in through the window and blew out the oil lamp!

The square-faced young man shuddered violently. Trembling, he reached out in the darkness and hung the old shoemaker's portrait back up.

He was just about to crawl back under the covers to sleep.

When he suddenly heard someone speaking beside his ear!

"You hung it upside down!"

The square-faced young man froze. He felt around for the portrait in the darkness and found that something was indeed wrong—it had truly been hung upside down.

That was a grave act of disrespect!

After setting it right again, he instinctively blurted out, "Thanks!"

But the instant the words left his mouth, an indescribable chill seeped out from the tip of his heart, racing through his limbs, bones, organs, and entrails in the blink of an eye!

It terrified him into complete rigidity! His legs trembled uncontrollably!

In the dead of night, there were only him and his mother in this dilapidated house.

And to keep his mother from discovering that he had borrowed money again and intended to return to Tongbao Gambling House, he had even bolted the door to this room.

In other words, at this hour, he should have been the only one in this room!

If so, who had spoken just now?!

At that thought, the square-faced young man felt as though every drop of blood in his body had frozen solid.

Endless cold!

What was more, the more he listened to those words—"You hung it upside down"—the more familiar they sounded.

Why did they sound so much like his dead father?

"You still want to gamble?"

Another cold, ghostly question echoed beside the square-faced young man's ear, making him shudder again!

Like frost-covered wood, he stiffly turned his head. By the faint glow reflected from the snow outside the window, the square-faced young man saw only a hunched figure standing behind him.

Its face was blue-white and bloodless, its pupils black and soul-stealing. That wrinkled old face was sinister and horrifying!

Was that not the old shoemaker who had been buried just that day?

"D-Dad?" The square-faced young man went completely blank, his voice trembling!

"You unfilial wretch! You still dare to gamble?" The ghostly figure spoke again, furious and cold, as though its voice had come from the netherworld!

"Dad! Dad! I won't dare again! I'll never dare again!" The square-faced young man was so terrified that his scalp went numb. Heat surged between his legs—he had wet himself!

He had already felt guilty over the old shoemaker's death. Now that the body had been buried and such a bizarre incident had befallen him, how could he not be terrified?

But the ghostly figure did not listen to another word. As if it had teleported, it suddenly appeared less than an inch from his face!

That blue-white ghost face and scarlet, elongated tongue nearly touched the square-faced young man's nose!

"You unfilial wretch! If you dare gamble again, your father will take you away with him, lest you anger your mother to death as well!"

That incomparably chilling voice echoed beside his ears, instantly robbing the square-faced young man of all ability to think.

He could only squeeze his eyes shut and nod repeatedly!

"Dad! Your son won't dare again!"

"Your son won't dare again!"

"Tomorrow, I'll return every bit of the money I borrowed!"

"Dad! I was wrong!"

"..."

The square-faced young man was merely an ordinary mortal. How could he ever have encountered such an underworld ghost? He was terrified to the point of hysteria, his cries ringing throughout Youfang Street!

He did not know how long he screamed. Only when that chilling presence had completely faded did he dare open his eyes!

There was nothing before him.

His whole body went limp as he collapsed to the floor!

Only the worried sound of his mother knocking on the door remained outside!

The next day, the snow stopped, and the golden rooster broke dawn.

Before the sky had fully brightened, commoners had gathered before the old shoemaker's dilapidated house on Youfang Street, pointing and whispering.

It turned out that the square-faced young man had cried so loudly in his fright the night before that he had awakened the neighbors.

By early morning, the tale of the shoemaker's house being haunted had spread through nearly half of Youfang Street.

How could these poor commoners miss such excitement? Before heading to market or work, they all came to see for themselves.

They watched as the shoemaker's door opened and the tightly bundled-up square-faced young man carried the borrowed silver he had intended to use as gambling money, going door to door and knocking on each creditor's home to return it all.

Even when he passed Tongbao Gambling House, he did not dare cast it a single glance!

After resting for several days, the square-faced young man seemed to become a different person. He took the notes on shoemaking and shoe repair left behind by his father from his mother, and from then on devoted himself to the trade, never mentioning gambling again.

As for what exactly had happened that night, the square-faced young man never spoke of it to anyone.

Still, from his overnight transformation and those hysterical cries of terror, everyone more or less guessed part of the truth.

As for this tale, it was passed from mouth to mouth, then embellished by the storytellers beneath Skybridge. They magnified its supernatural elements and told it as a story to passing tea drinkers.

This episode was called, "A Prodigal Son Turns Back, One Lost Finds His Way Home."

Of course, that was all later.

After using the Paper Effigy and Paper Horse Technique to fashion the old shoemaker's ghost, Yu Chen collected the paper effigy once he had frightened the square-faced young man, braved the heavy snow, and returned to Qingfeng Mausoleum.

—With his current spiritual strength, he still could not remain at the mausoleum while controlling a paper effigy in the county town.

So that night, while the ghost paper effigy slipped into the square-faced young man's room during the time he was settling his elderly mother, Yu Chen had stood at a street corner on Youfang Street, controlling the paper effigy.

After thoroughly terrifying the square-faced young man, he collected the paper effigy. Before the curious commoners gathered, he brushed off his sleeves and departed once the matter was done.

This was the method Yu Chen had come up with.

He had neither kinship nor friendship with the square-faced young man, so the man naturally would not heed his advice. Besides, his father and mother had surely urged him countless times already.

To truly make this prodigal son turn back and this lost man find his way home, he had to administer strong medicine!

And the current Yu Chen could neither wield the brush nor take up arms. Naturally, he could only rely on the strange art of paper effigies, becoming the shoemaker's ghost and teaching that square-faced young man a lesson he would never forget—to make him think of that ghostly face of his old man every time gambling crossed his mind.

Though he had spent the night freezing and needed an hour under the blankets after returning to Qingfeng Mausoleum before he recovered—

Yu Chen felt exceedingly satisfied.

First, the square-faced young man would no longer touch gambling. That counted as saving a family, and as an act of virtue.

Second, there were naturally the benefits promised by the Scripture of Deliverance.

Previously, with the Paper Effigy and Paper Horse Technique alone, he had frightened a scoundrel like Knife-Faced Big Strong mad, and made a square-faced young man so stubborn that he still intended to gamble after his father's death turn back from the brink.

At the root of it all, it was because of the benefits granted by the Scripture of Deliverance.

Now that another final wish had been fulfilled, what would the Scripture of Deliverance grant him this time?

(End of Chapter)