Judge of Souls - Chapter 64

Several people helped place Yang Huan on the bed.

The director dispersed the gathering crowd of onlookers, including Yang Huan’s assistant, indicating that they shouldn’t say anything. He only allowed Jiang Feng’s group to remain.

Kong Su said, “Director, you should go rest. We’ll help keep an eye on things here. We’ll notify you when she wakes up.”

“Master, you’re a Taoist priest, right?” The director approached Jiang Feng, slapping his forehead. “I knew it! The young man Kong Su brought to the crew is too young to be treated like a boss. He’s definitely not just some assistant!”

“No,” Jiang Feng said. “I’ve called for a real Taoist priest to come.”

The director didn’t understand. “What do you mean by real or fake Taoist priests?”

Jiang Feng sat down on the small sofa diagonally across from Yang Huan’s bed, his hand half-raised in the air with five fingers spread.

He lifted his eyelids, his focus finally settling on the position at the head of the bed.

The director quietly observed, following his line of sight. As a director, he was sensitive to subtle changes within the frame. To his shock, several small footprint-like depressions mysteriously appeared on the blanket covering Yang Huan.

Although the actual entity was invisible, it was terrifying enough.

“Holy crap!” He jumped up, quickly retreating behind Jiang Feng.

Jiang Feng, accustomed to such things, said, “Sit to the side and wait. It’s fine.”

****

Chu Xuanliang was still in A City. After getting his address, he shouted at the association for nearby fellow Taoist to come and take a look.

After the director had been trembling in the room for fifteen minutes, a man wearing a white shirt calmly arrived.

He had a suit jacket draped over one arm, seemingly concealing a long sword underneath.

Kong Su, wrapped in his bathrobe, went to open the door and found not only the newly arrived Taoist priest but also Gao Yuqing with a constipated look on his face.

The Taoist priest entered sideways, quickly scanning two positions, and asked, “Two Kumanthong? Who raised them?”

Jiang Feng pointed at Yang Huan.

Kumanthongs weren’t something you could buy in bulk, were they? How could she raise two at once?

Fortunately, the girl spirit had been summoned by a Luang Por and didn’t harbor much resentment. She wouldn’t become violent because Yang Huan had summoned another child spirit. But this second one was different.

Judging by his aura, he clearly wasn’t an ordinary child spirit. His eyes were now crimson red, and his state seemed somewhat unstable.

Jiang Feng found him somewhat familiar, having met him once before. “Are you Chu Xuanliang’s senior?”

The senior disciple nodded. His right hand pulled out two red paper talismans from his pocket. Chanting softly, golden light flickered around his fingers.

The girl spirit quickly floated into his talisman, leaving a blurry human-shaped pattern on the red paper.

The other little ghost, however, struggled unwillingly and flew toward the window trying to escape. The senior disciple pressed his left hand against the sword sheath, using his thumb to push upward slightly. Perhaps sensing the intimidating killing intent, the little ghost immediately became subdued and obediently allowed itself to be captured in the paper.

The director’s hair was left in disarray by the sudden gust of wind that arose in the room. Only after the senior disciple stuffed the talismans into his pocket did he come to his senses and ask, “Master, is it done?”

The senior disciple said, “It’s done.”

Zhang Yangyang emerged from behind the chair, remembering what Chu Xuanliang had told him about this person. Vaguely matching the imposing figure he had imagined, he spread his hands before him and asked, “Master, could you give me a luck-turning talisman?”

The senior disciple looked carefully at his face for a moment and said, “You don’t need to worry. Three stars surround you, with a fortune star shining brightly above. As long as you don’t court disaster yourself, no one will be able to harm you.”

Zhang Yangyang was initially quite happy, but upon hearing the latter part, he immediately deflated and muttered, “I feel like your precondition is very difficult to fulfill.”

The senior disciple chuckled lightly and said, “Your personality is also your fate. When I say ‘courting disaster,’ I mean deliberately getting involved with dirty things that have nothing to do with you out of curiosity. But if they come looking for you, at most you’ll have a scare but no real danger. Just get through this period and you’ll be fine.”

The director urgently asked from the side, “Master, what about me?”

The senior disciple straightened his clothes, clearly not wanting to say much. “I’m not here to tell fortunes.”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to tell my fortune, but please take a look at what’s going on with our film crew,” the director said, pointing at Yang Huan. “Three people in our crew have had incidents in a short time. Is it related to her? I’ve invited several Taoist priests before, but none were effective. Could you help us take a look?”

The senior disciple said, “It’s just particularly bad luck.”

The director asked, “Then who’s trying to harm me? Would performing a ritual help?”

The senior disciple explained in detail, though not too directly. “Fortune has its ups and downs, and this rotation is normal. This place has heavy yin energy, so you’re just experiencing worse luck than usual.”

“But—”

Could bad luck really cause group incidents?

After pondering for a moment, the director understood and said, “Then….could you sell us some protective talismans? Any amount is fine.”

The senior disciple remained unmoved. “Getting more sunlight and doing good deeds—that’s your best protective talisman.”

Though he said this, he still pulled out two protective talismans and handed them to Jiang Feng and Zhang Yangyang.

“Call me if anything happens. I heard a black-robed Ajarn has come to B City. Their ability to cast curses is insidious,” the senior disciple said. “Be careful with what you eat and drink. Remember to close your doors and windows tightly when you sleep, and don’t sleep too deeply.”

Zhang Yangyang accepted the talisman with great respect.

The senior disciple patted his clothes and said, “I’ll take them to the temple first. You can contact me directly if anything happens.”

“And you,” the senior disciple added, pointing at Zhang Yangyang, “don’t get too close to that woman. Stay away from her.”

He was referring to Yang Huan.

The child spirit that Yang Huan carried was made with unorthodox incantations. Moreover, it was made from an actual aborted fetus rather than a wooden carving with a summoned soul, making it too full of yin and killing energy. Although it wouldn’t harm people actively, it would affect the fortune of those nearby.

Ordinary people didn’t have Kumanthong to protect them, which was why the film crew had been experiencing frequent misfortunes. This was especially true for someone like Zhang Yangyang, whose luck was already at rock bottom.

Although these words were meant for Zhang Yangyang, the director also overheard them.

He quickly contacted the hotel and moved to another location within two hours.

Continuing to film scenes with Yang Huan was out of the question, not in this lifetime.

He could accept any dirty schemes and infighting among female celebrities, but he absolutely couldn’t accept being targeted by curses involving ghosts and spirits.

This method was too vicious. Who knew if he would be next? Hadn’t he, as a director, scolded actors plenty of times? He didn’t want to wake up one morning only to be floating in midair, observing his own corpse.

After all the commotion, it was already past midnight.

Jiang Feng and Zhang Yangyang started feeling drowsy and decided to return to their own rooms to sleep. With them gone, no one dared to keep watch over Yang Huan. When they went to check on her the next morning, they discovered she was gone.

After waking up, Yang Huan avoided all eyes and drove her car to the suburbs, her high heels clicking.

It was a bamboo building in a resort area. She walked confidently to the front desk and handed over her business card. After the disciple confirmed her identity, he nodded and led her to the back.

Thick quilts hung at the entrance to the stairway leading to the second floor, blocking out light. The upward passage had no lights, leaving it in complete darkness.

This was apparently a master who was very afraid of light. Yang Huan felt anxious every time she came.

Passing through the narrow staircase, she arrived at the second floor.

The second floor had its doors and windows tightly shut, making it stuffy and hot. Due to the lack of air circulation, there was an unpleasant smell of sweat in the air.

The window frame cast a blurry silhouette, with an old man sitting on a prayer mat in front of the halo of light.

“Ajarn!” Yang Huan pressed her palms together and knelt before him. “Ajarn, my child has been taken away by them. What should I do now? Please help me bring him back. He’s my only child. I’m willing to pay any price. Please.”

The old man took a ritual staff from beside him and waved it at her, preventing her from coming closer. He asked coldly, “What have you brought with you?”

Yang Huan stopped crying. “Nothing.”

She lowered her head, feeling something moving under her feet. Lifting her leg, she discovered a small white paper figure stuck to the sole of her shoe.

The paper figure suddenly came to life, stood up straight, moved away from her, and then burst into flames.

Yang Huan was shocked and exclaimed, “I—I don’t know what this is about!”

The black-robed Ajarn indicated it was no obstacle and simply asked, “Where did they come from?”

Yang Huan said, “A City. They’re all Taoist priests!”

The black-robed Ajarn nodded. “I understand.”

TN:

龍婆 (Lóng Pó) is a Thai term that is used to refer to an elderly or respected monk, often one who is skilled in spiritual practices, particularly those related to amulets, charms, and blessings. The term is commonly transliterated as Luang Por in Thai, which means “Venerable Father” or “Revered Monk.”