Chapter Twenty-Two: Severing the Malevolent Spirit

“If you really can help me get rid of this trouble, fifty thousand is absolutely not a problem!”

“How could these lowly tricks from Thailand compare to the yin arts passed down by our ancestors?” Old Liao, feeling a surge of pride for his heritage, looked at me with excitement as I prepared the needles and dyes.

“Hey, Uncle Jin, I’ve got a client here. I need to buy a jar of spirit from you.” I dialed Old Jin’s number, and the sound of mahjong tiles clattering echoed from the other end.

“Alright, eight thousand for the win! What kind do you want, and what’s the design?” I could almost picture Uncle Jin, cigarette dangling from his lips, dominating the mahjong table.

“A Buddhist lotus. Do you have a suitable soul?”

“There’s a nun, do you want her?” Uncle Jin, perhaps just stung by a loss, sounded impatient and didn’t wait for my reply. “Fine, fine, I’ll have someone bring it over soon.”

With the materials settled, I let out a long sigh of relief. But the boast had already been made, and my heart still thudded anxiously. Having witnessed the strange spectacle of the ghost doll and the ominous plaque, truth be told, I didn’t want to get involved in this mess. Yet, since teaming up with Old Liao, I hadn’t once demonstrated the wonders of the Yin-Yang embroidery. Driven by questions surrounding myself and my missing grandfather, I recalled Su Jin, quietly sobbing while eating greasy fried food. My resolve hardened. “Let’s do it!”

The patterns of Yang embroidery are mostly upright, featuring Buddhist motifs, animals, plants, and objects. Though this design was unconventional, it was still related to Buddhism, so caution was necessary. Just in case, I bathed, burned incense, and paid my respects. All was ready. Uncle Jin’s assistant arrived in a rush, handed me a small jar, and said, “Master Jin says put it on the tab, settle next time,” then quickly left my tattoo studio.

I had Tian Tian sit on the tattoo bed, gently opened the jar. Unlike the usual cold and dark feeling, a murmuring Sanskrit chant emanated from within. I pricked Tian Tian’s finger, squeezed out three drops of blood, and let them fall into the jar, silently praying, “Ancestor, bless us.”

The jar trembled, the chanting grew louder: “Thus the Prajnaparamita mantra is spoken: Gate, gate, paragate, parasamgate, bodhi svaha.” The chanting intensified, and all three of us were unconsciously drawn in by its miraculous recitation.

“This is the Heart Sutra! This tattoo might just work!” Old Liao slapped the table and shouted.

“Buddhist elders, forgive me. As the inheritor of Yin-Yang embroidery, I invite the Buddha to descend and expel foreign evil spirits.” I silently prayed, had Tian Tian lie flat and extend her arm. The lotus design was vivid and radiant, and standard tattoo techniques wouldn’t suffice. I used the embedding needle method, building the outline first, then expanded the color blocks with a “fogging” technique. The finer details were complex, so I won’t elaborate further.

Though the area wasn’t large, the design’s intricacy demanded nearly two hours of intense concentration. By the time I stood up, I nearly fainted from exhaustion. Sipping hot tea, I examined Tian Tian’s tattoo: a sixteen-petaled blood-red lotus blooming quietly, its innermost petals inscribed with Sanskrit scriptures. The entire design was vibrant and sacred. I nodded in satisfaction.

“This lotus is so beautiful! I won’t need to hide it on camera anymore—maybe it’ll even become my highlight.”

“Yes, Yang embroidery designs are mostly in line with popular aesthetics, focused on documentary engraving, and never ugly.”

“Boss Zhang, my arm feels hot. Is that normal?”

“It’s normal to feel some heat after the tattoo, especially without anti-inflammatory treatment.”

“But isn’t this too hot, Brother Xu?” Old Liao touched Tian Tian’s forearm and remarked with surprise.

I rushed over to check. Her arm was blazing hot, almost too much to hold, and the heat radiated directly from the blood-red lotus.

Suddenly, a strange noise came from the table. The black plaque lying flat suddenly stood upright, spinning wildly. Dark mist slowly emanated from around the plaque, creating an eerie scene. As the black plaque spun, Tian Tian’s arm grew even hotter, seemingly out of control. She slowly raised both hands…

Now Tian Tian’s brows were furrowed, her eyes fierce as if aflame, fixed on the spinning Buddhist plaque enveloped in black mist, murmuring, “All conditioned phenomena are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, shadows, like dew or lightning. Thus should you contemplate them.”

I rubbed my eyes, and faintly saw a Vajra figure suspended behind Tian Tian. This Vajra had eight arms, a fierce countenance, and wielded a black-red staff. The phantom staff mirrored Tian Tian’s movement, raised high, then suddenly swung down, striking straight at the black Buddhist plaque…

A piercing scream rang out, followed by the sharp crack of breaking tiles. The plaque shattered, and the carved black Buddha splintered into pieces. Unexpectedly, a burst of black mist darted from the fragments and shot out the window.

I seemed to see the eight-armed Vajra nod to me. I hurriedly bowed to the apparition, which then vanished behind Tian Tian.

“Tsk tsk tsk, who would’ve thought this tattoo would be so powerful, able to shatter a plaque from a distance? But with the plaque broken, the evil spirit trapped inside is now free. Since Sister Xiu brought it here, she’s in for a world of trouble,” Old Liao gloated.

Tian Tian recovered from her trance. I quickly moved closer to observe her reaction. “Did either of you just see anything strange?”

“Huh? No, I just saw Tian Tian wave her hand and the plaque broke…”

“……” Could this be the bond between tattoo artist and embroidery? Am I the only one who can see these visions? I wondered.

Thankfully, the affair with the Buddhist plaque was resolved. Three days later, Tian Tian transferred fifty thousand to me as promised. For days, Old Liao and I lounged on the sofa, ordering takeout and watching TV like deflated balloons. Business in the underworld is a real test of nerves; after so much interaction with the supernatural, it’s natural to feel a little mentally drained.

I wondered if Su Jin’s appetite had recovered, so I called Wang Mei.

“Hello, Sister Wang? The matter is settled. How’s Su Jin doing lately?”

“You’d better come over… Su Jin… something has happened!”