Chapter 1, The Midnight Grave Digger (Part 1)

At that time, the term "information" did not exist, so we in this impoverished mountain valley relied on nature for our sustenance. Naturally, we were deeply superstitious. I personally feel that although my fate has been somewhat difficult, I have managed to survive, and I am not much different from others. However, the villagers do not see it that way, as everything I get involved in seems to end in misfortune. At the age of seven, I helped the old man Xu in the village herd cattle, and the next day, their big yellow cow fell ill and died. In order to repay the villagers for their care, I actually hoped they would give me more food, so I often went to help with household chores in various homes, chopping firewood for Grandpa Huang Geng, ... but I managed to survive, and I am not much different from others. However, the villagers do not see it that way, as everything I get involved in seems to end in misfortune. At the age of seven, I helped the old man Xu in the village herd cattle, and the next day, their big yellow cow fell ill and died. In order to repay the villagers for their care, I actually hoped they would give me more food, so I often went to help with household chores in various homes, chopping firewood for Grandpa Huang Geng, ... One evening, Grandpa Huang Geng accidentally chopped off two toes while handling the axe, and when I fed Aunt Niu's pigs, three days later, the pigs fell ill and died ...

The requirements for a gravekeeper are not so simple. Apart from individuals like me, who are naturally plagued by misfortune, there are only two other types of people who can take on this job. One type is butchers who slaughter pigs and sheep; such individuals are filled with hostility and can deter the lonely souls and wandering ghosts around new graves. The other type consists of those with a solitary fate, specifically those with a very strong destiny that conflicts with their relatives. According to Master Wu, these individuals possess a strong yang energy, making it difficult for ordinary lonely souls and wandering ghosts to approach them. However, such individuals are not easy to find in reality.

Of course, before I turned sixteen, I was completely unaware of Maoshan, the Book Sect, and the Maoshan Taoists

I feel both hatred and helplessness towards Mr. Wu. I hate him for making me feel utterly despairing about life, and I am helpless because I have accepted his words as truth. Mr. Wu is a very serious person; he never likes to please others, and he spends his days with a sallow face reading fortunes. As a result, he has offended some people in the nearby villages to a greater or lesser extent, who say that his words are malicious. Mr. Wu, however, does not care at all and simply strokes his little mustache, saying that this is a matter of ironclad judgment; those who do not believe it are simply ignorant. He spends his days with a sallow face reading fortunes, and as a result, he has offended some people in the nearby villages to a greater or lesser extent, who say that his words are malicious. Mr. Wu, however, does not care at all and simply strokes his little mustache, saying that this is a matter of ironclad judgment; those who do not believe it are simply ignorant.

During the late Qing Dynasty, the conflict between the orthodox Daoist sect of Maoshan and the Esoteric School gradually became apparent. The Exoteric School adhered to the "Shangqing Dadong Zhenjing," focusing on meditation, alchemy, and recitation of scriptures, while the Esoteric School practiced secret techniques, jade talismans, and ancient forbidden spells, remaining hidden from the world. Why is it that to this day, there are fewer genuine Daoists, while the number of fake Daoists and charlatans has increased significantly? This has led to a deepening misunderstanding of Maoshan among the public, transforming the once-respected Maoshan sect into a distorted and chaotic entity. Tracing back to the origins, one cannot escape the mysterious and legendary conflict between the Exoteric and Esoteric traditions.

In recent years, apart from occasionally receiving some benefits from various families, I have found a profession that suits me, which is "grave guardian." This is a custom passed down from the older generation. When a prominent family loses a member, it is customary to have a grave guardian at the new grave to watch over it for three days. I understand this custom to some extent; it is said that when a person passes away, there is one less person in the living world, and consequently, one more in the underworld. After death, the deceased is naturally unfamiliar with the new environment. The "gold mountains," "silver mountains," and "grand mansions" sent by the living for the deceased are likely to be disturbed by lonely spirits and wandering ghosts. Therefore, it is necessary to have a grave guardian stay by the deceased's side for three days. Originally, the ancient term for grave guarding was "guarding the yin," but over the course of history, this phrase has evolved into "grave guardian." This is a lowly occupation and also an extremely inauspicious one, yet it is the only profession I have to make a living.

In summary, anyone who gets close to me will inevitably encounter misfortune. Those who suffer misfortune naturally harbor some resentment, and it is not uncommon for them to curse me as a harbinger of bad luck. As a result, even when I want to help, no one seeks me out; they almost avoid me entirely. I do not take those labels to heart, as I also have a strong dislike for myself. Why is it that I am unable to repay those who have helped me?

Although Mr. Wu said this to me, he did not truly drive me away. The earth god temple has an inner room where he usually resides, while I return at night to sleep on a haystack in the corner by the temple door. Mr. Wu is a well-known figure in the surrounding villages, famous for his divination skills. Whenever there is a wedding or funeral, families seek him out to consult him for auspicious timings. Thus, despite living in a dilapidated temple, he is free from worries about food and clothing. As for me, the unfortunate one, it is also Mr. Wu who has spoken of my fate. He claims that I am inherently plagued by bad luck, destined to encounter misfortune, and that anyone who comes into contact with me will inevitably be affected by this bad luck. The consequences can range from minor disturbances among livestock to serious concerns for human lives.

Yanzi Gou Shibali Village is a small mountain village. Originally, this village was called Sunzhuang. It is said that during the early years of the Anti-Japanese War, the Japanese invaded the village and committed atrocities, leading to the destruction of families in the Yanzi Gou area. For a stretch of eighteen li, the villages were left in ruins. Eventually, with the nationwide liberation, the villagers in this area gradually gathered together. This village, originally named Sunzhuang, had a diverse range of surnames, and through oral tradition among the villagers, it became known as Shibali Village.

The Maoshan sect flourished for several hundred years from the Southern Dynasties Liang to the Northern Song, remaining a mainstream of Taoism. After the Southern Song, it gradually declined, yet it has continued to be passed down, with notable high masters emerging from time to time. The Maoshan sect is a branch of the Shangqing school, known as the Shangqing school centered in Maoshan for its development. It has been transmitted to later generations. During the Ming and Qing dynasties, Taoist traditions faced strong opposition from the ruling authorities, leading to the emergence of various branches within Maoshan. However, the "Shangqing Dadao Zhenjing" of the Maoshan sect has been passed down to this day, renowned as the Maoshan Xianzong. The Maoshan sect has a lineage of forty-five generations of succession masters, with the first generation referred to as Taishi, the second as Xuanshi, and the third as Zhenshi, while subsequent generations are all referred to as Zongshi.

My name is Chu Qi, and I am from Yanzi Gou in Shandong. In the year of 1956, I had just turned sixteen. The reason I say I had just turned is that it was shortly after the New Year. My age is said to have been calculated from the day when Grandpa Sun from the village picked me up from the roadside while I was still in swaddling clothes. That day happened to be the seventh day of the first lunar month, so the villagers casually gave me the name Chu Qi. I am an orphan

The villagers do not welcome me into the village, so I can only spend the night on the hillside behind Shibali Village. The hillside is home to a somewhat dilapidated land temple, and I am not the only one there; there is also a fortune teller who calls himself "Iron Abacus." His surname is Wu, and he is in his forties, tall and thin. Although he does not have much of an imposing presence, he often strikes my head with a tattered book, sternly declaring that this land temple is his territory and that I am merely a guest. He insists that I must leave as soon as I find a place to stay.

Grandfather Sun was a true native of Sun Village, and he was one of the few remaining elders in the village. I learned this during casual conversations with the older villagers later on. Grandfather Sun passed away due to illness when I was not yet two years old. I grew up eating the food provided by various families. At that time, every household was struggling with food shortages. From what I can remember, although the villagers were willing to share some food with me, I could sense that they disliked me. I understood that one significant reason for this was that I was widely known as a jinx.

I often rely on this for my livelihood, and over time I have become accustomed to it. Moreover, I have never encountered anything filthy, so I am quite bold. It is said that many people died in our area years ago, and with the vast wilderness, there are naturally many tales of ghosts and monsters that the older generation discusses over tea and meals. In our village, only the old man and I engage in the work of pressing graves. However, I do not refuse anyone; as long as someone seeks me out, I readily agree for the sake of my livelihood, regardless of whether the deceased's burial site is desolate. The old man, on the other hand, is selective and decides whether to take on a job based on the offerings provided by the family. For instance, in the case of the old woman's pit in the eastern ravine, if it were there, the old man would definitely refuse, as that place is very troublesome.

Perhaps it is my misfortune that I began to take on the task of pressing graves at the age of ten, yet I have never encountered anything unclean. However, the pig butcher, Master Ma, at the east end of the village, often encounters some "yin events" whenever he presses graves. "Yin" is a local term referring to a place that is unclean or a time period when unclean things frequently appear, though there is no specific phrase to pinpoint it.