Chapter 18: Tarnished Reputation

“Brother, you finally made it back! I was starting to think you were going to spend the night out at a hotel!”

As soon as I stepped into the dorm, the chubby guy came over and threw his arm around my shoulder like we were close brothers. “We’re in the same dorm, so we’re definitely tight from now on. Since we’re bros, that girl who helped you tidy up your room today—does she have any close girlfriends? Hook me up with one, will you?”

The college entrance exams were over. At eighteen, the stirrings of youth were hard to ignore.

“No idea,” I shook my head. How would I know?

Although I had known Liu Qingya for quite some time, we weren’t really close. It was only after Uncle Dazhuang passed away that I got to understand her a little better.

“That’s not bro-level enough! That girl’s eyes lit up when she saw you—she’s probably into you. If you just say the word, could she really refuse? Besides, I’m not even sure if I and her best friend will hit it off! Giving me her WeChat isn’t a big deal!”

“I’ll ask around when the time comes.”

I slipped out of the chubby guy’s grip and headed toward my bed.

Did Liu Qingya really like me? That, I was even less sure about.

But one thing was clear—I didn’t feel the same way about her. She was just a regular friend, nothing more. Sure, sometimes there were fleeting impulses, the kind any guy might have—but that was normal! And Liu Qingya was stunningly beautiful!

“Alright, bro. No more chit-chat. If you really manage to get her number, just say the word. Any time you need warm water or anything, don’t bother moving a finger—leave it all to me!”

The chubby guy then looked at the other two in the dorm. “See that? That’s sincerity!”

My dorm had four beds arranged with upper bunks and desks underneath. The chubby guy was called Wang Tao. Another was a skinny guy with glasses named Li Bo.

The last one was a sturdy-looking guy, but a bit slow on the uptake. Judging by his clothes, he, like me, came from the countryside.

Oh, and his name was Chen Fei.

That night, after lights out, Wang Tao started chatting away excitedly, telling us stories about his hometown and his past fights off campus.

At first, I wasn’t quite used to university life, but under Wang Tao’s relentless chatter, my eyelids grew heavy and I drifted off to sleep.

In my dream, a thick fog suddenly rose.

It was the old courtyard back home, beneath the big pear tree. Grandpa was rocking on his cushion, and I sat beside him. He said, “The Dao is divided into five paths: mountains, medicine, fate, physiognomy, and divination. But our line is not among these. We have our own name—‘Sorcerers.’”

“The origin of the Sorcerers goes far beyond the Dao. In ancient tribal times, every tribe had its own shaman. As tribes vanished and dynasties rose, shamans gradually disappeared, replaced by a new title—‘Sorcerers.’”

“At the same time, another sect arose—the ‘Fangshi.’ The rivalry between Sorcerers and Fangshi has lasted for ages. Eventually, both faded, giving way to the rise of the Dao. People lumped Sorcerers and Fangshi under the Dao, some even placing Sorcerers under the mountain branch.”

“But Grandpa doesn’t agree. Sorcerers are Sorcerers, Fangshi are Fangshi, Daoists are Daoists. We’re not of the same school, so why should we be grouped under the Dao?”

Grandpa kept muttering, but young as I was, my mind wandered elsewhere.

Back then, money had come to the village, and many families bought color televisions. All I could think about was running to the neighbor’s house to watch cartoons.

Every time, Grandpa sighed deeply. The Sorcerers were dying out. If I didn’t take up the mantle, the tradition might vanish forever.

At that age, I couldn’t understand his words. Sorcerers or Fangshi—it was all less interesting than my favorite cartoon, Black Cat Detective.

Grandpa sat under the pear tree, watching me walk away.

As the sun set, he fanned himself with a rattan fan, eyes half-closed, a trace of sadness in his expression.

Time passed swiftly, and I saw Grandpa’s death again. His body was completely decayed, not a spot intact.

In front of him lay two yellowed ancient books. If he were alive, he’d surely scold me for being useless.

“Lao Jiang! Lao Jiang! Something’s happened!”

While still dreaming, I was suddenly shaken awake. Wang Tao’s head appeared beside me, urgency in his voice.

“There was a death on campus last night. A girl jumped into the lake and killed herself!”

“What?”

I sat up quickly. Outside, the sky was already bright—around seven in the morning.

Wang Tao pulled out his phone, showing a picture of a woman in red floating on the water.

A woman in red?

Wasn’t that the same woman I saw last night?

“The school forum’s buzzing; these photos are being shared all over the groups,” Wang Tao said angrily. “Someone commits suicide right after we arrive? What bad luck!”

“How is the school handling it?” I asked as I put on my clothes, climbing down from the upper bunk.

“No idea. I heard they’re bringing in a Daoist to take a look—this is too eerie. A senior said every few years, something weird happens at the start of term here!”

Wang Tao sighed, “I’m scared. If I’d known, I’d have gone to another school. Why did I come here?”

“There’s a lot of nonsense on the forum; not much of it’s credible,” I said. “Best to wait and see what the school does.”

Such a big incident couldn’t be left unchecked; rumors would only get wilder.

There’s a saying: hearsay, when repeated, becomes pure fiction.

“I’m scared,” Wang Tao said. “I’m not going out at night anymore.”

...

That afternoon, the school did indeed bring in a Daoist.

No matter how skeptical you were, some things couldn’t be explained by science.

Take Uncle Dazhuang and Uncle Wangcai—both dead, yet their bodies had been found kneeling in their coffins.

Wang Tao told me about the Daoist’s arrival and even dragged me along to see.

But we were turned away by campus security before we got close.

We could only watch from a distance.

The Daoist standing by the lake looked increasingly familiar—a hunched old man, pointing at the lake as if issuing commands.

Damn!

Wasn’t that Zhang Jiaqian?

That guy was a fraud. Could he be trusted?

I quickly pulled out my phone and called Uncle Zhengui to get Zhang Jiaqian’s contact.

Then I dialed the old Daoist directly.

“The things happening at Ancient Capital University aren’t something you can fix,” I told him. “If handled poorly, it might cause a chain reaction.”

“Who are you?” Zhang Jiaqian’s rude voice came through the phone.

He then excused himself to a quiet spot after apologizing to the campus officials nearby.

“I’m famous in the Ancient Capital circle for exorcising demons,” he said. “Don’t tarnish my reputation!”