Lucas felt his mind clouded, the memories of the previous night hovering between reality and illusion, like a distant dream. He slowly made his way back into the ancestral hall, his steps heavy and uncertain. It was the early hours of dawn, the sky outside still dim with just a hint of blue as the eastern horizon began to pale. Inside the hall, however, it remained dark, the ground shrouded in shadows.

 

He glanced around, unsure of what to do next. The floor was littered with debris, remnants of the night's events barely discernible in the dim light. Among the scattered bricks and rubble, there seemed to be some items left behind by the man from the night before. But the hall was mostly empty, with nothing worth taking, and no reason to linger. Lucas gathered his belongings, tucking his bedding under his arm, grabbed the hatchet, picked up the oil lamp, and headed out.

 

His steps felt unsteady as he left the hall and walked down the narrow alley outside. Not far from the alley's end, a door of a nearby house creaked open, and a man stepped out, surprised to see him.

 

"Well, well! You really stayed the whole night?"

 

Lucas turned to look at the man, a stranger to him. After a moment of thought, he realized that this must be one of the Wang family's men, sent to keep an eye on him and ensure he stayed the night in the hall. He replied, "More or less..."

 

"Come with me, I’ll take you to see the elder!" the man said, taking the items from Lucas's hands. Lucas handed them over without resistance, following the man as he led the way.

 

With each step, the sky grew lighter. By the time they reached the old courtyard of Elder Wang's residence, the sun had risen above the eastern mountains, bathing the morning in golden light.

 

Elder Wang was already awake, seated in his grand hall, sipping morning tea. He glanced at Lucas as the man reported that Lucas had indeed spent the night in the ancestral hall, confirming the event.

 

"Did you really sleep in there all night?" Elder Wang asked, his gaze fixed on Lucas with a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

 

"Yes, sir, I did not leave," Lucas replied, looking around the spacious hall and at the elderly man before him. Gradually, he felt himself waking from the surreal fog that had clouded his mind, the events of the night before still lingering like a dream.

 

"And that man from last night—he fled in the middle of the night, yet you stayed?"

 

"I didn't run," Lucas answered simply.

 

"Seems like I misjudged you!" Elder Wang remarked, somewhat surprised.

 

"You seem out of sorts. Did you not sleep, or did something in the hall disturb you?" The elder turned to a nearby woman, "How are we hosting our guest? Get him some tea."

 

Lucas shook his head. "It's neither, sir."

 

"Then what happened?"

 

"It just felt... like a dream," Lucas said, trying to describe the strange sensation that had enveloped him.

 

"So you saw something last night?" Elder Wang put down his tea cup, intrigued.

 

"I had an encounter..." Lucas recalled the small figure he had seen in the early morning and the hazy figure in his dream, though the details had already started to fade. He shook his head, "But I did not see it clearly."

 

Elder Wang invited Lucas to sit down beside him and asked for a detailed account of the night's events. The elder, a man of considerable renown, must have had his share of encounters with the supernatural in his long life, for he did not seem overly surprised by the possibility of spirits or demons. However, Lucas's calm demeanor after a night in the supposedly haunted hall piqued his interest.

 

The woman returned with a cup of tea, and Lucas accepted it with thanks, taking a sip. The sharp bitterness and the floral scent of chrysanthemum filled his mouth, instantly clearing his mind.

 

"Rest easy, Elder Wang," Lucas said after a moment. "The entity has left this morning. I believe your ancestral hall will no longer be troubled."

 

"Left? Why is that?" The elder leaned in, intrigued. "Tell me everything."

 

Lucas recounted the events of the night in detail, as the hall gradually filled with more people, mostly the elder's descendants, who listened with wide-eyed fascination. Even those outside the hall crowded around the door, eager to catch every word.

 

Lucas spoke slowly and deliberately, patiently recounting every detail. The elder and his audience listened intently, their eyes wide with a mix of awe and curiosity, their breaths held as they absorbed the story.

 

By the time Lucas finished, the hall was silent. He sat quietly, waiting.

 

Finally, Elder Wang picked up his tea cup, took a thoughtful sip, and said, "If that entity truly left, then we owe you our thanks."

 

"It wasn't just me," Lucas said earnestly after a moment's thought. "The reason it left was due to your initial efforts—offering a reward, disturbing its peace. Then, the schoolmaster and the butcher from the town must have made it feel it wasn't worth the trouble. I was merely the last straw. It wasn't solely my doing."

 

Elder Wang smiled at this, seemingly amused. "How old are you?"

 

"Just turned fifteen," Lucas replied.

 

"Remarkable, truly remarkable..." The elder nodded several times, thinking deeply. "Let's assume everything you said is true, and that the entity didn't deceive you. It has indeed left. In that case, your role in this was pivotal."

 

He continued, "Since even the spirit recognized your filial piety toward your uncle, it’s only right that our Wang family, known for our reputation in the region, should not be outdone by a mere spirit. We are, after all, neighbors. Your family is facing difficulties, and it is only right that we extend our help where we can."

 

He then added, "You and the other man who stayed the night—since only you did not flee, I will give you the reward meant for the other as well. Consider it a token of our gratitude."

 

Lucas bowed deeply in thanks, knowing that while he should remain humble, this was not something he could refuse.

 

Elder Wang looked at him thoughtfully, then instructed, "Give him twenty taels of silver, something easier to carry."

 

"Thank you, Elder Wang," Lucas said, deeply grateful.

 

"Don't rush off. Our family will prepare a good meal for you. Stay and eat before you go," the elder offered.

 

Lucas politely declined, "I appreciate the offer, but my family will be worried as I’ve been gone all night. My uncle is bedridden, suffering, and my aunt and cousin are already burdened with taking care of him. I cannot bring myself to enjoy a fine meal here while they struggle."

 

"Very well," Elder Wang said with a smile, waving his hand. "Then we will prepare the food and wine and have it sent to your home later."

 

"Thank you, Elder Wang," Lucas replied, accepting the elder's generosity.

 

"If you ever need help, do not hesitate to come to us."

 

Lucas had nothing more to say, so he simply bowed again and thanked the elder repeatedly.

 

As he walked out of the Wang family's residence, the morning sun shone brightly, and he felt a strange sense of possession. Three silver ingots, each weighing ten taels, pressed heavily against his chest, pulling at his coarse clothes. Yet, despite the brightness of the day, Lucas felt an even stronger sense of wonder and disbelief as he reflected on the night’s events.

 

The surreal feeling didn’t fade with the dawn, nor with the weight of the silver. Instead, it grew stronger, making everything seem even more extraordinary, as if he had just stepped into a different world.

 

On his way back to the village, Lucas passed the stone pavilion under the bridge and noticed the old man and the children still gathered there. Perhaps it was the sleepless night, or the mental strain of confronting the supernatural, or maybe it was just the fatigue from witnessing the strangeness of the world. Whatever the reason, Lucas found himself stopping, leaning against the wall, and staring blankly in their direction.

 

The old man continued to tell stories of gods and spirits, and the children listened with rapt attention, just as they always did. The words drifted to Lucas's ears, blending with the countless other tales he had heard over the years—tales of foxes and ghosts, good and evil, gods and demons.

 

A golden pill ascends to the heavens;

An evil deed falls to the earth.

 

Half-truths, half-fictions, all spoken by word of mouth.

 

The essence of these stories was hard to convey with mere words. The atmosphere, the feeling—they were something to be experienced with the heart. Not terrifying, not strictly rational, but mysterious and romantic, with imagery that stirred the soul.

 

Lucas found himself standing there, lost in thought, as the old man's voice carried on. His mind kept returning to the question that had been bothering him since the night before: What kind of world is this?

 

If there are monsters in this world, does that mean there are also ghosts? And if ghosts exist, then are there also gods and Buddhas, and the paths to Taoist immortality? Is there truly a path to eternal life, as the Daoists say?

 

And if so, how does one find it?

 

Where is the path to immortality? And where can one find the method to calm the soul?

 

Before he knew it, Lucas had somehow made his way back home. He saw his aunt and uncle, briefly told them about the events of the night, and showed them the thirty taels of silver. His aunt, concerned, urged him to rest, and finally, Lucas returned to his room.

 

The room was

 

 simple, but it was a place where he felt at ease. Yet something felt different. He turned to look—and saw a book lying on the table, a book that hadn’t been there before.

 

It was an old book with no title, one he had never seen before.

 

Lucas stared at it for a moment, then suddenly remembered seeing something similar in the darkness of the ancestral hall when he had gone back in the morning. The book had been square and solid, but it was too dark at the time to see clearly. He had assumed it was something left behind by the man from the night before, and with his head still clouded with thoughts, he hadn’t paid it much attention, taking only his bedding, the hatchet, and the oil lamp.

 

Could it be the same book?

 

Lucas picked it up.

 

The pages were blank, save for the first page, which bore a single line:

 

"Exhale."

 

The Art of Exorcising Spirits, Demons, and Ghosts.