Chapter Nine: Old Classmate

More than a month had passed since my first deal, and the shop had returned to its usual calm. Bored, I leafed through the ancient compendium again and again, a doubt surfacing in my mind: could the existence of Yin-Yang Embroidery truly alter a person’s fate?

In truth, there are many taboos surrounding Yin-Yang Embroidery. Ordinary tattoo parlors are equipped with advanced tattoo machines, while the techniques of Yin-Yang Embroidery rely on brushstrokes and needlework, using only the traditional needles passed down through generations. This craft is a true test of the tattooist’s skill. The main techniques are categorized by the position of the tattoo—deflecting, suppressing, carrying, entwining, embracing, and so on.

The methods are further divided by style: scatter, shading, ink-splash, among others. In fact, painting and tattooing are much the same; Yin-Yang Embroidery is like painting upon the human body.

The most crucial aspect of Yin-Yang Embroidery is the dye, which takes the soul as its guide. Both Yin and Yang Embroidery use souls as the medium, blending them into the design. Yang Embroidery is gentle by nature and requires no particular kind of soul, but Yin Embroidery must be matched with vengeful spirits or ghosts as needed.

Once the dye is prepared, the client must add a drop of their own blood to it. Only if there is no sign of rejection should the tattoo proceed—forcing it could invite the wrath of malicious spirits.

Within my grandfather’s black box are twelve tattoo needles, clearly aged and bearing the marks of many generations. After what happened with Old Zhao, I recalled something my grandfather once told me as a child: “The more you meddle with fate, the more you must hold it in reverence.” The thought that my Yin-Yang Embroidery had taken a life left a shadow in my heart, a lingering unease.

It had been over a month since anyone had come for Yin-Yang Embroidery. That was only natural—under the bright sun and clear skies, how many wicked spirits could truly roam the earth?

A few customers had come for regular art tattoos, mostly students from the nearby vocational school, wanting their lover’s names or trendy designs. In this line of work, especially when you start young, you meet all sorts—some get tattoos to act tough, some to remember a lost love, some simply for a change. Every tattoo has its own story, and so does Yin-Yang Embroidery.

“Yin-Yang Divine Embroidery—dispel misfortune, resolve calamities, bring prosperity, and ascend unimpeded. For details, contact Mr. Zhang at 180xxxxxxxx, address…” Over the past few days, I posted ads for Yin-Yang Embroidery on my Weibo, Moments, and other spaces. This was my official step into the shadowy trade, my announcement of the craft’s rebirth.

With the first earnings from Old Zhao, I had taken Xiao Wei out to eat, drink, and have fun all around. Guangdong is a paradise for food lovers, something I never truly appreciated when I was broke.

Knowing the story of Old Zhao’s ex-wife, we often socialized with this local transport tycoon. He took a liking to Xiao Wei’s talkative nature, sometimes even bringing him along for business negotiations. I asked him to introduce me to more clients—after all, wealthy people love their superstitions, and a little publicity for my shop could only help.

I’d grown used to these idle days, especially now that I didn’t have to worry about money. I was planning to take Xiao Wei to Sanya for some sun and surfing, to try out the life of the well-heeled. Just as we were about to leave, my long-deserted WeChat suddenly chimed.

When I checked, a stranger had added me, with the note “old classmate.” Suspicious, I accepted the request.

“Hello, are you there, old classmate?”

Her profile picture was that of a rich and stylish woman—sunglasses, designer handbag, posing in front of Big Ben like a lady of leisure. The more I looked, the more familiar she seemed. Old memories from high school slowly surfaced, and I saw again the pretty girl at the desk ahead, ponytail bouncing as she glanced back with a smile.

“Xu Feifei?” She was the class beauty, the girl I’d secretly admired. Who hasn’t, in their youth, harbored feelings for a ponytailed girl?

“Yes! I heard you run a tattoo shop now? I saw your ad on Weibo.”

“That’s right, just a small business. What about you?”

“I’m married now, hehe. My husband owns a company, not bad.”

A wave of disappointment washed over me—thinking of my own youth, I couldn’t help but sigh. “So, what brings you to me out of the blue?”

“It’s about our Qiuqiu. He’s been acting very strange lately.”

“Qiuqiu is…”

“Qiuqiu is our cat. I have this feeling… he wants to eat me!”