This Wu the Fortune Teller said I was destined for a calamity, and that my family couldn't possibly support me. I had to become his apprentice to have any chance of survival.
He also said that even if I followed him to cultivate the mystical arts, it would be difficult to overcome the three tribulations. This meant that the tribulation I faced when I was nine years old would be the most severe; if I didn't overcome it, I would die, but if I did, a great turning point would occur.
My grandfather and father discussed it and decided that living was better than dying, at least there would be something to look forward to, so they agreed.
Then Wu the Fortune Teller immediately carried me away from the house, leaving in a great hurry, as if afraid my family would change their minds.
But not long after we left the village, someone discovered Wu the Fortune Teller's body. His death was gruesome; blood flowed from his seven orifices, his eyes were wide open, and his face was filled with terror, as if he had been scared to death.
But I was perfectly fine, lying beside Wu the Fortune Teller, neither crying nor making a sound.
Upon hearing this, my parents had no choice but to bring me back. Wu the fortune teller's family even came looking for me, causing a huge scene. It wasn't really our fault; Wu the fortune teller had died on the road. However, we still had to pay them a sum of money, which was a further blow to our already impoverished family.
Later, I heard from my master that Wu the fortune teller died because of his evil intentions. He had taken me away because he coveted something I had and even wanted to kill me.
But that's a story for later.
After my father brought me home, I started to worry again.
We didn't know if what Wu the fortune teller had said was true or false. His sudden death made my family even more wary of me.
Even the villagers said I was a jinx, that I had caused the death of an innocent person at birth.
And my food became a problem. I wouldn't drink milk, only blood.
From birth until now, I hadn't eaten a single thing and had been crying incessantly from hunger.
Grandpa and Father were so worried they couldn't eat or sleep, and Mother was silently weeping.
Unexpectedly, when Father went out to use the outhouse in the middle of the night, he suddenly heard a rustling sound in the yard. Looking in the direction of the sound, he saw several white foxes appear in the yard, followed by several weasels.
In the darkness, the animals' eyes gleamed, and they moved furtively.
One of the larger white foxes even perched on the windowsill, peeking into the house.
At first, Father was terrified, but then he became angry. He thought, "Having a deformed baby is bad enough, and these animals are making things worse too." So he picked up a brick from the ground and threw it at the animals.
The brick struck the white fox perched on the windowsill, causing it to let out a painful scream that sounded particularly mournful in the quiet night. It turned and glared fiercely at my father, baring its sharp fangs, which terrified him so much that he froze.
Just then, the door suddenly opened, and my grandfather rushed out, wielding a large cleaver. Although nearly seventy, he was still remarkably robust. In his youth, he had been a soldier, fought against the Japanese, and had even been a squad leader in a cleaver-wielding unit. His eyes flashed with murderous intent, and his cleaver gleamed.
The beasts, seeing my grandfather, scurried away from the yard in terror.
"What happened?" my grandfather asked my father.
"I saw those beasts wandering around the yard, and a white fox was peering into the house from the window," my father said, still shaken.
"What a double whammy! I, Old Wu, have spent my whole life doing good deeds, protecting my country, and never committing any evil. How could I, in my old age, have to run into such a mess?" Grandpa sighed helplessly.
Just then, his head turned, and he suddenly saw a dark, seemingly moving shape near the doorway.
He crouched down to take a closer look and immediately wondered, "Where did these things come from?"
My dad also went to take a look and was stunned. Beside our doorway, there were several plump wild rabbits, already barely alive.
Picking the rabbits up, he noticed several bloody holes in their necks, as if they had been bitten by some wild animal.
"Dad, could these rabbits have been sent by those foxes and weasels?" my dad said, somewhat incredulously.
Grandpa nodded, his face grim, and said, "It's very likely them. During the day, hundreds of weasels and foxes knelt and worshipped our house. I don't know what connection our child has with these beasts. Since they've brought them here, we'll keep them, drain their blood for the child, and we'll eat the meat." With the rabbit blood, I was finally satisfied and fell into a deep sleep. The family also had a meat feast.
But what the family didn't expect was that these foxes and weasels didn't just bring meat this once. From then on, they came to our house almost every night. Each time they came, they would leave something behind—sometimes pheasants or rabbits, sometimes a couple of fish, and sometimes they even brought two meals a day.
Now, our family had meat every day. In those days, our standard of living was much better than other families. Most families could only eat meat on holidays, but our family ate it every day. Sometimes, when we couldn't finish it all, my father would sell it at the market, making many people in the village drool with envy.
When my father saw the weasels and foxes in the yard again, he no longer tried to chase them away. He would pretend not to see them, and sometimes, when he inevitably ran into them, the animals weren't afraid of him at all. They would carry their game past him, drop it, and walk away without looking back, quite nonchalantly.
Three years passed in this way. The foxes and weasels brought him game every day; my family ate meat, and I drank blood.
Because life was so good, my parents both gained weight.
Gradually, I grew up. Apart from my blood-drinking problem, I was no different from any other normal child.
My family tried feeding me other foods, but I would vomit every time; I couldn't swallow them at all.
When I was born, I had white fur all over my body, and my face looked like a fox's. But as I grew, the white fur disappeared, and my face gradually became normal, and I grew more and more delicate.
However, when I turned three, my grandfather and father began to worry again. They remembered what Wu the fortune teller had said: I was destined for a calamity, one every three years. Now that I was three, they didn't know what kind of calamity I would encounter.
On my third birthday, the calamity indeed came. Someone in the village died, and everyone in the village said I was the one who killed him.