Chapter 59

Chapter 59

◎The Weight of Living◎

The heavy rain lasted all night, accompanied by thunder and lightning, which was truly terrifying, even for ghosts. Even staying indoors, every time thunder struck, Meng Jin could feel a sense of intimidation.

He couldn’t imagine what would have happened if he hadn’t followed the female ghost sister back. If he had been hiding outside, he probably wouldn’t have survived two thunder strikes and would have been blown away by the wind and rain.

As the rain outside gradually lessened, the streets were covered with fallen leaves beaten down by the storm. People in thick cotton work clothes braved the cold wind to clean, while others had to get up early to go to work before dawn. The empty, student-less school and the city, still quiet, not yet awakened from the night, painted a somber scene.

Meng Jin thought that if the afterlife was like this, then life and death seemed no different.

At some point, Ji Nanxing came out of the room and walked into the kitchen, heating milk while saying, "A living soul unwilling to return is also considered suicide and will be punished in the Hell of the Wrongly Dead."

Before Meng Jin could respond, Xie Paner, who had buried herself in a pile of toys, suddenly woke up: "What! Suicides go to the Hell of the Wrongly Dead?!"

Pouring the heated milk into a cup, Ji Nanxing took a sip to moisten his throat, which had been dry all night: "Otherwise, if one could abandon life at will without facing any judgment or punishment, wouldn’t life and death be in chaos, both in the underworld and the living world?"

Xie Paner couldn’t help but shrink further into the pile of toys. Maybe she should just let her soul scatter.

Meng Jin pursed his lips, feeling scared, but thinking of his family, that fear was suppressed again: "So be it. I probably wasn’t a good person in my past life either, likely a regular in hell."

If he were a good person, why would he have to suffer so much in this world? Maybe he should just choose to scatter his soul like the female ghost sister. Reincarnation is too harsh.

Watching the gradually brightening sky, Ji Nanxing gently blew on the rising steam from his cup of milk and asked, "Really not going back? Your living soul has been away for two days, and your vitality is draining. You’re running out of time. Going back now would at least allow you to say goodbye to your family. Once the sun rises, you will be completely separated from the living world."

Xie Paner remained silent, shrinking in the pile of toys. Meng Jin clenched his fists and turned to gaze out the window. It was almost dawn, and he was almost dead. While others longed for life, he longed for death. Finally, this moment had come, but Meng Jin felt more lost than anything.

Flocks of birds soared across the sky, their wings flapping against the increasingly bright sky. More and more people appeared on the streets, all huddling against the cold, rushing into their daily lives.

Meng Jin had no memory of his childhood. From what he could recall, he had always lived a tiring life. Perhaps he had had happy times, but more often, he had been burdened with various pressures.

After a long silence, just before the sky fully brightened, Meng Jin turned to Ji Nanxing and said, "Mr. Taoist, could you please send me back?"

At least to say goodbye, as if he had just passed through this world, drawing a conclusion to his short life of a little over a decade.

Ji Nanxing flicked his finger, and a spark of spiritual light hit Meng Jin: "Just think about going back, and you will return."

Soon, Meng Jin disappeared from the room. Xie Paner scrambled to her feet: "He’s gone back?"

Ji Nanxing nodded.

Xie Paner let out a sigh: "So simple. I thought we’d have to go to his house, burn some incense, chant some spells, and call his soul back."

Ji Nanxing: "That’s the process of half-baked Taoists."

Xie Paner tried to hold back but couldn’t suppress her curiosity: "Aren’t you curious about his family situation? Don’t you want to follow and see if he successfully returns?"

Ji Nanxing flicked his finger at Xie Paner: "If you’re curious, go see for yourself."

Soon, Xie Paner also disappeared from the room.

Ji Nanxing stood by the window for a while. The clock had already struck 6:30, but the winter sky was slow to brighten, and the streetlights were still on.

Taking another sip of milk, Ji Nanxing sighed silently. Hatred can drive people to madness, and so can love.

Meng Jin, back in his body, slowly opened his eyes. The familiar heaviness, the familiar white walls, the beeping of machines in his ears, and faintly, the sound of someone crying.

As soon as he twitched his fingers, his hand was grasped. A woman who still looked young but was etched with fatigue rushed to the bedside, crying and looking at him with heartache: "Xiao Jin, are you awake? Look at me, I’m your mom."

Meng Jin gently grasped the woman's hand, his voice hoarse and dry after days of unconsciousness: "Mom..."

The woman wiped her tears hurriedly and pressed the call button by the bed. Soon, a nurse arrived and, seeing that he was awake, hurried to fetch the on-duty chief physician.

Before long, the room was packed with people. The doctor examined Meng Jin, and his father arrived as well. The couple looked at the doctor fearfully, dreading bad news.

After a short while, Meng Jin gathered some strength. He pushed the doctor's hand aside and strained to look at his parents.

The doctor, having seen this situation many times, sighed softly and said to the parents, "Talk to him."

Meng Jin's mother shook her head wildly, clutching the doctor's clothes and dropping to her knees: "No! Please save him! Please, save him! Put him on a ventilator, on a heart machine, anything, whatever it costs! Doctor, don't give up on him! He can still be saved! Please, save him, save him!"

Meng Jin's father helped his wife up, also crying uncontrollably.

Meng Jin closed his eyes, utterly exhausted. Over the years, he had heard too many pleas—pleas for the doctor not to give up, pleas for him not to give up. But no one ever asked if he wanted to live or die, no one cared if he preferred a painful life or a peaceful death.

Even in these final moments, his mother wouldn't listen to him, only desperately wanting him to live, spending so much money, moving from hospital to hospital, forcing him to live in agony.

Exhausted, Meng Jin gave up and closed his eyes. He knew that this time, even the doctor couldn't snatch him from death's grasp. If they wouldn't listen, then fine.

Meng Jin's mother continued to cry and beg, while his father, realizing that they truly couldn't keep their son any longer, let go of his wife and walked to the bedside, tenderly touching his son's thin face: "Xiao Jin, it's Dad. Look at me, okay?"

Meng Jin opened his eyes and smiled at him. As soon as he opened his mouth, his father bent down and pressed his ear close: "What do you want to say to me, son?"

Meng Jin spoke weakly, in broken phrases: "Be good to my brother in the future. Transfer the love you had for me to him. You've been unfair to him all these years. Dad, tell him for me, it's my fault. From now on, Mom, Dad, and this family, I leave them to him."

Meng Jin's father wiped his tears: "Okay, I promise."

Meng Jin's mother couldn't accept the reality of losing her son and still begged the doctor to save him. The doctor glanced at the person on the bed and said to her, "We've done everything we can, but it's out of our hands now."

Meng Jin raised his hand, reaching out to his mother. Seeing his wife still crying in panic, Meng Jin's father couldn't help but say, "Your son is calling you, come over quickly!"

Meng Jin's mother hurried to the bedside: "Xiao Jin, don't worry, everything will be okay. Mom won't let anything happen to you. The doctor will take care of you."

Meng Jin sighed: "Mom, from now on, only Xiao An will be with you. Don't push him away anymore, okay? Love him a little more, okay? Because of him, I was able to live until now. He saved me. Be good to him. Tell Xiao An that the things I couldn't enjoy in this life, let him enjoy them for me. I want to see the world outside, I want to play ball and run, I want to sit in a classroom and study."

How could Meng Jin's mother agree? This was the little life she had eagerly awaited, the precious child she had carried for ten months, the unique love she had for him. How could love be transferred?

The sky brightened, and the rain clouds that had lingered all night were dispersed by the morning light.

As the sunlight streamed in, Meng Jin turned his head to look outside.

The weather was so nice. He was born in the night, but he would die in the bright sunlight. At this moment, he felt that his journey through life wasn't all pain; there seemed to be a bit of happiness too.

The monitor let out a long beep, and then the room erupted in loud cries. Xie Paner squatted at the door, feeling a bit envious.

She waited and waited, but never saw Meng Jin's spirit. As the sun rose, she knew she had to return soon or risk being trapped outside for another day, so she quickly floated back.

Seeing the Young Celestial Master eating breakfast, Xie Paner leaned on the dining table: "Young Celestial Master, that little boy died, but I didn't see his spirit."

Ji Nanxing: "After death, people naturally go where they should. Generally, they don't stay in the mortal world."

Xie Paner nodded: "I thought I could bring his spirit back."

Ji Nanxing: "He had no lingering attachments, how could you bring him back? If spirits could be kept after death, then there would be no such thing as the separation of yin and yang."

Xie Paner sighed: "I thought his attachments were deep enough to become a ghost."

She had hoped that maybe there would be another ghost to talk to, even though the little boy didn't seem like much of a talker. Being the only ghost around could get lonely sometimes.

Looking at Xie Paner, who was sighing, Ji Nanxing, while eating an egg roll, said, "His obsession was to seek death. Having achieved his wish after death, naturally, he wouldn’t linger."

Xie Paner shared what she saw at the hospital with Ji Nanxing: "His family wasn’t abusive, as previously thought. It seems he has been sick since childhood, and his family had another child for him. I know this—it was for the umbilical cord blood! Then his parents have been treating him all these years, neglecting the younger child, favoring the elder to an extreme."

"I heard the nurses lamenting that his brother, only nine years old, could already live independently. Sometimes when he visits his brother at the hospital, his mother scolds him for bringing messy toys, as if he wanted his brother to die from a bacterial infection. Later, his brother basically stopped going to the hospital, and I don’t know if he hates his brother."

"That little boy isn’t very old either, twelve years old, probably looking quite small because he’s been sick. I thought he was under ten. Why is the eldest son treated like a treasure, while the younger son is treated like dirt? They had the younger son to save the elder son’s life—shouldn’t they treat the younger son better?"

Xie Paner couldn’t help but get involved as she spoke: "I heard his mother once tried to force the younger son to donate bone marrow to his brother. Can minors even donate? Then, before the bone marrow could be donated, the boy fell into a coma, likely due to his strong resistance, and his soul departed. Now that he’s dead, I don’t know if his mother will blame his death on the younger son. If I were the younger son, I wouldn’t give a damn about their lives!"

Meng Jin’s younger brother is named Meng An. The character 'An' was chosen casually—not to wish him peace, but to hope his birth would bring health and peace to his brother. Unfortunately, the first bout of leukemia was cured with umbilical cord blood, but later his body remained weak, with recurring organ infections, until this year when the leukemia returned.

Meng An got up in the morning and made breakfast with whatever was in the fridge. The house was as empty as ever, but he was used to it. His parents were either at the hospital or working to earn money. Sometimes, when there was no food at home, they even forgot to give him living expenses, so he’d go to a classmate’s house for a meal or two.

Over time, Meng An learned to save money, so when his parents forgot again, he wouldn’t starve.

Since childhood, he had been an afterthought in this family, so much so that even the slightest desire for parental love was harshly rejected.

His mother told him his brother was so sick, always in the hospital, while he was healthy and normal, able to go to school and play—yet he still wanted to compete with his brother.

Meng An wanted to say he never wanted to compete with his brother, but his mother didn’t believe him. Any attempt to seek attention was seen by her as trying to compete with his brother.

Sometimes he resented why his brother had to be sick, why his mother had to have him just for his brother. He wished he had never been born.

But every time he saw his brother’s apologetic look, his caring eyes, arguing with their parents for him, and being the only one in the family who remembered his birthday, he couldn’t bring himself to hate him. If only Meng Jin were healthy—how good that would be. Even if his health meant he wouldn’t exist, Meng An still wished for it.

If Meng Jin were healthy, he might have had a very good brother.

Just after finishing breakfast and washing the dishes, Meng An was about to head back to his room to do homework when the phone rang. His brother was gone.

After hanging up the phone, Meng An was in a daze. The first thought that came to his mind was that the person who had bound and restrained him was gone, but the next moment, a wave of sadness washed over him, because the only person in the world who truly loved him was gone.

Unable to accept his brother’s death, his parents, the condolences from relatives and friends, the somber funeral—Meng An watched coldly until his father apologized, admitting they had neglected him over the years, and shared his brother’s final words.

Meng An locked himself in his room. What good was an apology? He was still young, not even ten, but the warped family environment had made him more mature than anyone.

He had never tasted his mother’s milk, and his first steps in life were taken without his father’s support. At an age when other children were crying and making noise, he knew tears couldn’t win his parents’ pity and love.

He could walk two blocks alone to kindergarten, take the bus to school by himself, and use the washing machine and microwave before he could even read. He was alone before, and he didn’t need anyone’s debt or compensation in the future.

Looking at the person on the tombstone who resembled him by half, Meng An thought he would see the world for him, but this family, he didn’t want it anymore.

The loss of their eldest son left Meng’s parents depressed for a while. Just as they were about to start a new life, they found their younger son unusually distant and polite to them.

They always thought, he was their own flesh and blood, they would treat him better in the future, make up for the neglect of previous years. They always thought the child was still young, might not remember, and even if he did, he wouldn’t really hate them that much.

Unfortunately, reality slapped them in the face.

When Meng An entered junior high, he directly chose a boarding school. Until he went to college, Meng An never asked for a penny from home, nor did he come back.

A few more years later, Meng An sent back a card, which was all his expenses from childhood, along with a few simple words: What I owed you, I have paid back.

Meng’s parents didn’t understand how such a young child could hate so deeply, how he could be so heartless, just as Meng An didn’t understand, why the heart could be so biased among sons.

But it doesn’t matter if they don’t understand, because he has his own life, and those who don’t love him or the belated love, he doesn’t need anymore.

...

The good weather on Sunday continued into Monday, but unfortunately, the mood of the children going to school early in the morning was not as bright as the weather. Every Monday was painful for them, except for Xiao Ye.

Before the car had fully stopped, Xiao Ye grabbed his backpack and dashed out, his cheerful demeanor standing out among the gloomy students. The driver, who was responsible for driving him, couldn't help but smile from inside the car. This rush to get to school definitely meant he had a crush there.

Entering the classroom, Xiao Ye saw that Ji Nanxing had already arrived. He pushed through the crowd of students frantically copying homework and walked over: "Morning, Naonao."

Ji Nanxing moved the candy in his mouth from the left side to the right with his tongue: "Morning."

Xiao Ye put down his backpack and took out his homework: "Candy for breakfast? What did you eat? Did you get enough?"

Ji Nanxing leaned lazily on the desk: "The class monitor gave me the candy. I'm full."

Xiao Ye glanced at the students around them copying homework and leaned closer to Ji Nanxing, whispering: "What happened to that lingering ghost from the other day?"

He thought Ji Nanxing wouldn't just ignore it. It wasn't about forcing someone who didn't want to live to return, but rather keeping an eye on the ghost's situation, not completely letting it go.

Ji Nanxing: "It went back."

Xiao Ye smiled: "It went back? Does it need help? If it's about domestic violence, I know some legal teams that handle that."

Ji Nanxing shook his head: "It's not domestic violence. He was sick, suffering from a long-term illness, and didn't want to keep burdening his family. But he's already dead, just managed to return in time to say goodbye to his family."

Xiao Ye's smile faded: "Oh, I get it."

Seeing Ji Nanxing's calm face, Xiao Ye once again felt the huge gap between what a Taoist like Ji Nanxing deals with every day and what regular people like him go through. At an age younger than himself, Ji Nanxing had already gone through so much life and death to be able to remain so composed.

Xiao Ye took Ji Nanxing's hand in his own, holding it tenderly. These hands had guided so many lingering ghosts and sent so many souls to their next life.

Zhang Yuan, carrying his backpack with one hand, walked over and glanced at them: "What are you two up to? Palm reading?"

Xiao Ye rolled his eyes at Zhang Yuan. Ji Nanxing tried to pull his hand back, but as soon as he moved, Xiao Ye tightened his grip and moved closer, blocking the view from the back seats: "Hey, check this out."

Then Xiao Ye reached into his backpack and pulled out a beautifully sealed plastic bag containing a stack of thunder talismans.

Xiao Ye placed the bag of thunder talismans in Ji Nanxing's hand: "I made these yesterday. Out of the twenty blank talismans you gave me, I finished sixteen successfully."

He had also drawn four more, but those felt lifeless to him, a kind of intuition he couldn't explain.

He had brought those four as well, but unlike the well-drawn ones, he had casually folded them and placed them in his backpack.

"These four feel off. Can you see if I screwed them up?"

Ji Nanxing didn't need to look; as soon as the four talismans were placed in his hand, he knew they were duds, lacking any elemental power.

The ones in the sealed bag were complete thunder talismans. Seeing the quantity, Ji Nanxing was surprised: "You made all these in one day?"

Xiao Ye shook his head: "I made five at home the night before, and the rest in the morning. I ran out of talismans, or else I could've made more in the afternoon."

He knew the blank talismans Ji Nanxing gave him were also valuable. Yesterday afternoon, he had spent time on the Human Realm Network app learning more about them and understood why Ji Nanxing was surprised he could draw them so easily.

Xiao Ye was quite pleased with himself, having unlocked an additional skill, bringing him closer to Ji Naonao.

"Where did you buy those blank talismans? Can you give me the seller's WeChat? I'm worried about getting scammed if I buy them randomly."

These things seem pretty complicated. He didn't mind spending more money, but if he ended up with inferior products, and Ji Nanxing used them, losing the original power of the talismans and getting bullied by fierce ghosts, that would be disastrous. For example, if a talisman was thrown and it fizzled out, that would be deadly. So, it's better to buy straight from Ji Nanxing's recommended place.

Ji Nanxing said: "No need to buy. I have plenty. Come to my place after school today and take some. Let me know when you run out."

He couldn't let Xiao Ye spend his own money on talismans for him. But since Xiao Ye didn't want money, he couldn't just take things for free; he had to find a way to compensate.

Xiao Ye directly poked Ji Nanxing's forehead: "I know what you're thinking. I've told you before, I draw talismans partly for you to use, and partly to sell for money. I'm not at a loss. You don't need to think about compensating me. I just hope that every time you use the talismans I draw, you come back safely."

Looking at Xiao Ye's serious expression, Ji Nanxing's fingertips curled slightly. At such a young age, Xiao Ye already had a mature and reliable demeanor. Ji Nanxing couldn't quite put into words the feeling he had at that moment.

He had experienced too many life-and-death shocks. At seventeen or eighteen, most were still immature kids to him. But now, he couldn't see Xiao Ye as just another immature boy. He seemed far more mature than he appeared.