The day I was born, nineteen bolts of lightning struck around our courtyard—none of them touched the house itself.
Only the nineteenth bolt found a target: it split the old elm tree in our yard straight down the middle, sending black smoke curling into the sky. The entire village saw it.
Some say that on that very day, a seasoned hunter, caught in a sudden storm, took shelter in a cave on the back mountain. There, he stumbled upon a woman of ethereal beauty—unearthly, with pale skin and eight tails swaying behind her like whispers of smoke. She looked like she was dying. Upon seeing the hunter, she whispered:
"Is there a family named Wu in Jiushan Village expecting a child?"
The hunter, terrified beyond words, nodded instinctively, frozen in place.
The woman sighed. "What was owed in a past life… must be repaid."
With that, thunder boomed across the heavens. The woman closed her eyes and collapsed to the ground. When the hunter returned with others, the cave was empty. Not even a trace of her remained.
And at that exact moment, I was born.
The midwife, upon laying eyes on me, screamed in horror—almost throwing me across the room.
I looked nothing like a normal infant. My chin was unnaturally sharp, my head oddly fox-shaped, my mouth already lined with tiny, pointed teeth. A thin layer of white fur covered my body. I didn't cry like most newborns. I just looked…hungry.
When my mother tried to feed me, I sank my teeth into her breast—not suckling milk, but drawing blood. The pain startled her, and she pushed me away in fright.
The midwife, who had delivered more than half the children in the neighboring villages, paled visibly. She had never seen anything like me. A child like this, she warned, was not human.
"A demon spawn," she whispered. "It cannot be kept. If it lives, it will bring ruin."
She advised my father to abandon me in the graveyard outside the village—to leave me to fate, before disaster fell upon the family.
My father knew something was wrong. But I was his first child—his own blood. He couldn't bring himself to make that decision, so he turned to the head of the family: my grandfather.
My grandmother had passed away early. Grandpa was the pillar of the Wu household. My father, ever the dutiful son, followed his every word.
When Grandpa saw me, he blanched. "What sin did we commit in a past life," he muttered, "to give birth to such a creature?"
Still, even he couldn't make the call to throw me away. No matter how strange I was, I was still his grandson.
After a long silence, Grandpa came up with an idea.
"This child," he said, "is steeped in mystery. Nineteen bolts of lightning fell the moment he was born, and the last struck our tree. It's a sign. We need answers. Go to Bailiwa and bring back Wu Banshen, the famed yin-yang master. Let him read the signs."
That very night, my father set out on foot, walking dozens of kilometers to Bailiwa. He arrived at dawn.
Upon hearing the story, Wu Banshen was stunned. Without delay, he followed my father back to Jiushan Village.
But what they saw upon arriving froze them in place.
Somehow, overnight, our courtyard had filled with foxes and yellow weasels—hundreds of them. No one knew where they had come from. They chirped and howled, forming a living barrier around our home. None of the villagers dared approach.
Some whispered among themselves, saying the Wu family had birthed a demon that had offended the fox spirits. Our doom, they said, was only a matter of time.
Panicked, my father grabbed a stick to drive the animals away. But Wu Banshen stopped him.
"Don't," he said. "They mean no harm."
As if to prove his words, the creatures all suddenly dropped to their knees—yes, knees—and bowed three times toward our door. Then, as quickly as they'd come, they vanished.
My father stood stunned. "What… what just happened?"
Wu Banshen's face had turned grave. "Let me see the child."
Inside, my grandfather brought me out.
Wu Banshen took one look and sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes lit up with an unnatural gleam. He asked for my birth date and began to calculate.
After a long silence, he spoke.
"This child is… extraordinary. Not of this world. A spirit has taken root in him—a high-level demon, on the verge of ascending into human form. It was undergoing its final tribulation, about to be destroyed by heaven's wrath. But in a desperate move to escape death, it transferred its soul into this newborn's body. Heaven won't strike an innocent infant. That's why the lightning circled your home without causing harm."
He paused.
"The foxes and weasels that bowed at your door? They weren't just animals. They were the kin and descendants of the spirit now bound to your child."
My father's legs gave out. "Then what should we do?"
Wu Banshen sighed. "This is the first time I've seen something like this. Even if the child survives, his life will be filled with disaster. I read his fate in the hexagrams: Fire Over Heaven. Great Possession. Incomplete Water. The Flame Devours Thunder. Every three years, a great calamity will come. Each will demand a life. Either his—or someone else's."
"Eighteen calamities in total. No one can escape such a fate."
My grandfather spoke up, voice trembling. "There must be a way."
"There is one," Wu Banshen said slowly. "He must become my disciple. Walk the dark path of the Xuan Sect. His life will be cursed—marked by Five Defects and Three Lacks—but it's better than death. However… if I take him in, he can never return to your family."
None of them realized that Wu Banshen was destined to become my first calamity.
The moment he carried me out of the village gate…He died.
Collapsed on the spot, bleeding from all seven orifices.Dead before he hit the ground.