A Short Story Collection with Non-Human Protagonists - Chapter 12

Chapter 12: The Life Contract, The Puzzle, and Huaiqing’s Dream

Tang Yanqing quickly found a news report.

“July 15, 2008 – Diving Accident at Bibo Lake, Moqiao City. Chen Cai, a 24-year-old diving instructor, attempted to rescue his girlfriend Liao Mengmeng (26) during an emergency. Due to an oxygen equipment failure leading to cerebral hypoxia, Chen Cai fell into a vegetative state after resuscitation.”

“Insiders reveal that at the time of the accident, Liao Mengmeng lost her way in deep water after a guide rope snapped. After discovering her distress, Chen Cai made multiple rescue attempts, eventually bringing her near the surface, but he succumbed to an accident himself.”

“‘He will wake up. The doctor says even people in a vegetative state have consciousness. No matter the cost, I will do my utmost to save him.’ In an interview outside the ward, Liao Mengmeng showed reporters a notebook filled with folk remedies, expressing her determination to never give up on her boyfriend.”

“The Moqiao Bureau of Culture and Tourism, in conjunction with the Municipal Sports Bureau, reminds tourists that diving is a high-risk extreme sport…”

Below the page were links to follow-up news.

“November 18 – A Miracle Recovery. Chen Cai, who had been in a vegetative state for four months following the Bibo Lake accident, has suddenly awakened. Dr. Li, Director of Neurosurgery at Moqiao Central Hospital, stated the awakening was miraculous; CT scans showed significant brain necrosis, yet his recovery far exceeded expectations.”

“Heartbreakingly, Chen Cai did not get to see his girlfriend one last time. Just a week before he woke up, Liao Mengmeng died of sudden cardiac death caused by extreme exhaustion. Chen Cai remained kneeling before her tombstone for a long time… He stated he would support Liao Mengmeng’s parents…”

Chen Cai’s experience and Tang Yanqing’s own experience overlapped perfectly.

The healthy person dies; the comatose person wakes up.

A coincidence this identical couldn’t possibly happen twice by chance.

Tang Yanqing deduced a logical hypothesis: Perhaps these people who signed the Life Contracts gave their lifespans to Liu Jin voluntarily. They did it to exchange for something more important than their own lives… like the lives of their daughters or lovers.

Tang Yanqing had a moment of startling realization.

In that car accident three years ago, the person who was supposed to die was actually her. But her parents went to find Liu Jin, signed the Life Contract, and defied fate to trade their lives for hers.

Tang Yanqing put down her phone and looked up at the three funerary portraits on the altar. Having grown up in such a strict household, she had never expected to receive such profound love from them.

In her third year of middle school, her mother had torn her favorite novel to shreds in front of her. “You only ranked fifth in the monthly exam, and you still have the mind to read this idle trash!” The paper fragments had fluttered to the ground. Tang Yanqing bit her lip and didn’t argue. It was a historical novel that had helped her memorize all the points for the ancient history exam; she had scored a 95 for the first time.

In the summer of her senior year, at the very last second before the university application deadline, Tang Yanqing went behind everyone’s back and changed her first choice to Folklore. Her father slapped her across the face so hard she stumbled, crashing heavily into the medicine cabinet. “Get out! Since you’re so capable, change your surname too! From today on, you aren’t a Tang!”

Those scenes felt like they happened only yesterday, but now only two black-and-white photos remained, looking back at her kindly through a thin layer of glass.

“You really did worry about me for a lifetime, didn’t you? Even in death, you’re still looking out for me…”

Tang Yanqing felt it was laughable. But as she laughed, tears began to flow uncontrollably. Why did they have to live so contradictorily, so heavily?

Unfortunately, her tears held no answers.

There was still one problem left—Liu Jin’s whereabouts were unknown. She had to find her quickly. If someone used talismans to drive Liu Jin away, then perhaps she could use the same method to call her back.

Tang Yanqing dug out her textbook from the “Taoist Studies” elective, along with the paper, ink, and cinnabar the teacher had distributed. She headed straight for the Liu Yin Inn.

Having been closed for two months, the inn’s electricity had been cut. As the sky grew dark, Tang Yanqing lit a candle and knelt on the green brick floor of the corridor. Following the diagrams in the textbook, she began to trace the talismans stroke by stroke. In the empty inn, only this tiny spark of candlelight flickered eerily.

The talisman head, three hooked moons; the heart, the Big Dipper suspended upside down.

She drew one after another until they covered the floor. As she drew, she chanted the incantation in her heart: “The perilous path to the springs, let the soul-lamp be the candle; Compassionate Lords of the ten directions, illuminate her path home…”

Click.

From deep within the courtyard came a soft sound, like a bone snapping out of place.

“Ah Jin?” Tang Yanqing looked up into the darkness.

In the silence, something was moving. Shadows, like pitch-black asphalt, spread from the corner of the courtyard, crawling slowly toward her along the cracks in the bricks.

“Ah Jin!”

Tang Yanqing scrambled up from the ground, holding the candle to meet it, but the shadow vanished silently—

Suddenly, a pair of hands locked around her throat. Cold hands wearing medical gloves pressed a damp towel firmly over her mouth and nose.

“You learned well in that elective,” a voice sneered in her ear. “If I had known, I wouldn’t have capped your grade at 89.”

—The final piece of the puzzle had finally appeared.

But before Tang Yanqing could think clearly, her vision went black, and she fell once more into a dream.

Hula.

Huaiqing was a tree.

The tree remembered everything. It remembered having cycled through reincarnation many times, always lingering near the fox. In every life, the story was different yet similar. They had loved too many times and said goodbye too many times, never able to stay together forever.

Huaiqing was not wrong, Liu Jin was not wrong, and the Bodhisattva was not wrong. This was simply the fate they had chosen for themselves long ago.

So, in this life, Huaiqing chose to be a tree, growing right in the courtyard of Liu Jin’s home. Though she had no arms to embrace her and no lips to kiss her, she could at least stay by her side, living as long as possible so that this parting would come a little later.

Hula.

In spring, the locust tree bloomed with snow-purple flowers. Every morning, it longed for Liu Jin to push open the window of her study. The locust flowers would ride the wind to brush against her hair or fall into the inkstone she was grinding, accompanying her through the whole day. Providing shade in summer, creating scenery in autumn. On those clear moonlit nights, when Liu Jin slept on her bed, Huaiqing would filter the moonlight into flowing silk, gently draping it over Liu Jin’s chest to sleep alongside her.

Hula.

If a tree had a heart, Huaiqing’s heart ached every day. Liu Jin was the most miserable deity she had ever seen in the three realms. Though, she hadn’t seen many deities in total.

Liu Jin lived very close to the Fox Immortal Temple. The wind blew up the mountain, carrying the incense of the temple and the wishes of the people.

Heavens, the wishes of people are truly too many.

Everyone wanted health and longevity, freedom from disaster, success in exams, promotions, business prosperity, sudden wealth, a harmonious marriage, a house full of grandchildren… But when people made these wishes, they never seemed to consider that the karma of the mortal world is finite.

For every cause, there is an effect. Some create bad causes but refuse to bear the bad effects. Some create no good causes but insist on having the good effects. When they cannot achieve things themselves, they beg heaven, earth, and the gods, demanding the deities conjure it for them out of thin air.

And Liu Jin’s heart was simply too soft. She saw the tears and heard the prayers, and no matter how difficult the wish, she couldn’t help but fulfill it for them.

Liu Jin was only a very, very small deity—just a fox who had received a breath of divine air from the Bodhisattva. She simply couldn’t shoulder that much karma. Thus, the evil karma of the common people gnawed at Liu Jin’s spirit day by day, making her weaker and weaker. Sometimes she would lie down all day, unable even to get out of bed.

If Huaiqing had a mouth, she would surely scold her. With so many gods in the Heavenly Palace, the Heavenly Emperor, the Vajra Bodhisattvas—none of them care, so why must you, a single fox, care? Like a hen hatching ducklings, minding business that isn’t yours.

But if Huaiqing truly had a mouth… she probably wouldn’t have the heart to say it.

Fortunately, there was Granny Gu to look after Liu Jin’s dwelling. Granny Gu was originally an evil ghost with a deep-seated grudge, living in an ancient well in a mountain village and coming out to harm people. Liu Jin had avenged her, cleared her karmic debt, and from then on, she followed Liu Jin as a loyal divine servant. Granny Gu would cook delicious food for Liu Jin, nagging her to see a doctor and take medicine to slightly ease her weakness. Only then did Liu Jin manage to drag out these difficult, divine days, one by one.

Hula.

Liu Jin remained as beautiful as she had been for the past few hundred years. In that exquisite, quiet little house, she always wore blue or pink dresses as gentle as spring flowers, sitting under the shade of Huaiqing, holding an osmanthus sachet and staring off into space alone. Every time this happened, a certain place deep within Huaiqing’s rings became incredibly itchy, as if flesh and blood were about to sprout from the wood.

What a silly fox.

Hula.

As a tree, Huaiqing’s greatest wish in life was to protect this sickly little deity who liked her so much, living a stable life forever. Day after day, year after year, Huaiqing drank in so much incense from the Fox Immortal Temple that she seemed to have gained a tiny bit of divine aura herself. Her branches gradually began to obey her commands, secretly lengthening to get closer to that beautiful little deity.

Even more wondrous, Huaiqing discovered that trees could dream too.

In the dream, her branches all turned into long, soft vines. As the sun was about to set, they would meander along the shadows of the wall and slip into the little deity’s bedroom. Sometimes Liu Jin was reading, sometimes napping, sometimes listening to people’s wishes. The setting sun traced her golden silhouette, so beautiful it was blinding.

Her raven hair was pulled into a bun, pinned with a silver magpie hairpin. A lotus-pink tunic, a green skirt, and a pair of satin shoes embroidered with “phoenix playing with peonies” peeking out, adorned with a few pearls, swaying gently with her toes. She smelled so fragrant, like all the osmanthus that had ever soaked in the sun in the mortal world had surrendered to her shadow, forgetting to wither.

Huaiqing was so entranced by the scent that she accidentally knocked over the brush rack on the table.

“Who’s there?”

The moment Liu Jin turned around, Huaiqing quickly retracted her vines and hid back in the shadows outside the wall. As a tree, she was shaken, her leaves rustling loudly.

All of this was clearly just Huaiqing’s dream. But for some reason, from that day on, Liu Jin never looked up at her again. When walking past Huaiqing, Liu Jin would always lower her head, yet Huaiqing clearly saw tears in her eyes.

Liu Jin began to avoid her again, just like in every previous life. But parting is fate, and love is also fate. Huaiqing knew best how painful the ending of losing Liu Jin would be, yet she still savored the process of having her.

On the next night when Huaiqing dreamed, she pushed open Liu Jin’s window once more. From the gap in the window came the pitter-patter of water. Steam rose, and the light and shadow were hazy.

…It was Liu Jin taking a bath.

Hula.

Huaiqing’s vines slipped through the gap in the window.