For some reason, I always felt Zhang Daoxuan's words held hidden meanings. His expression was eerie, as if he saw through everything but chose not to reveal it—like an outsider peeling layers of truth with a cold, calculating gaze.
Zhang Wei and his wife were completely rattled. They had no time to ponder Zhang Daoxuan's intentions; they simply followed his orders.
First, Zhang Daoxuan asked Wei Xin to fetch a large bowl filled with a third of water. He then took a seven-inch silver needle and instructed Zhang Wei to prick each of his ten fingers, squeezing three drops of blood into the bowl—no more, no less. The blood dissolved into the water, forming a bowlful of bloody liquid.
Next, Zhang Daoxuan produced a yellow paper crane folded with strange symbols, its neck tied to a red string. He placed the string in Zhang Wei's hand, then dropped the crane into the blood bowl. With a tap of his slender finger on the bowl's rim, the blood surged into the crane, which suddenly came to life, flapping its wings.
Zhang Wei trembled, his face pale. "I... I saw a vision. An old crooked tree... My father was crying under it..."
"Your blood flows from his veins; your bones are carved from his body. What could bind them closer? The crane guides, spirits bridge—through yin and yang, go!"
Zhang Daoxuan's voice softened. With three more taps on the bowl, the crane fluttered out, heading for the door. It paused, pecking at the doorknob.
"Follow it. Where it pecks, open the door. Where it lands, kneel and call out!"
Zhang Wei hurried to open the door. The crane darted out, leading us downstairs.
The crane navigated the building's corridors, then the elevator—clearly avoiding windows, unlike some modern "smart" devices that might've led us straight off a ledge.
We followed it to the neighborhood park. The crane circled, as if lost.
"Interesting. This complex has more to it than meets the eye," Zhang Daoxuan muttered. He flicked a finger at the crane, which shivered, then shot into the woods, speeding toward a gnarled old tree.
"There!" Zhang Wei whispered. "I see my father there."
Zhang Daoxuan raised a hand, silencing him. He took a sheet of black paper, traced symbols in the air, and spoke: "Elder, I know you cannot hear mortal voices, only see forms. Thus, I use this method to reach you. Quarrels between kin should end. Your family is in turmoil—please manifest."
As he spoke, white characters appeared on the black paper—tianwen, the script of the dead, readable by spirits but not mastered by most.
The paper ignited. Ashes swirled toward the tree. The crane glowed crimson, and a shadow materialized: the old man I'd seen, huddled beneath the branches, wailing. His cries were hair-raising.
Zhang Wei paled, but mustered courage. "Dad?"
"Don't call me Dad!" the old man snapped, his eyes bulging with rage. "I have no son like you!"
He lunged at Zhang Wei, but Zhang Daoxuan grabbed him. Wei Xin stepped forward, voice trembling: "Grandpa, we never wronged you. We cared for you when you were bedridden, hired a nanny... Why hate us?"
"You dare mention the nanny? I'd rather have died than endure her abuse!" the old man roared. "You let her hit me, even throw waste at me—because she said I was senile. You believed her!"
His anger faded, replaced by hollow eyes. He fixed Zhang Wei with a glare. "You, my son—when I begged to see my grandson one last time, you said you were busy. Busy? Busy enough to abandon your father on his deathbed?"
Zhang Wei hung his head, silent.
Wei Xin, emboldened by Zhang Daoxuan's presence, snapped: "Even if we erred, you shouldn't haunt our child!"
"You have no right to speak," the old man scoffed. "I've seen death. I know your secrets. When I said I was dying, your mother feared my 'bad luck' would harm the baby. You let her persuade you to stay away."
Wei Xin looked to Zhang Wei, who didn't protest. She exhaled, relieved.
"Enough," Zhang Daoxuan interjected. "Your resentment isn't hatred—else you'd be a vengeful spirit, not a guardian. Why show yourself now?"
The old man sighed. "I came not to blame, but to beg: save my grandson."