After Orwell finished speaking, I couldn't help shivering a little. Even though he was telling the story plainly in broad daylight, it still felt terrifying. I said, "You might have some misunderstanding about me."
"That evil ghost is so powerful - how the hell could I possibly be her match? I don't catch ghosts. Also, our Tattoos of Gods and Ghosts have a first rule: never tattoo ghosts directly. Was that high monk fooling you?"
Orwell showed no doubt. He said the high monk wasn't bad and shouldn't have deceived him. He insisted I go with him, believing I might actually be able to deal with Aria.
"Deal with my ass!" I said. "If you want a tattoo, I can give you one. I guarantee no evil spirit would dare come near you. But if you want me to catch ghosts, you're looking for trouble. Though if you need it, I can recommend some Celestial Masters who might handle the spirit."
This Orwell seemed brain-damaged - completely stubborn. He said he didn't want anyone else, only us Tattoos of Gods and Ghosts. He believed the high monk's words, otherwise why would he have left that note before dying?
I said, "What exactly do you want me to do? Tattoo that ghost? I've already told you - Tattoos of Gods and Ghosts can't tattoo ghosts, and I don't know how to catch them. I can't help you with this, so get lost!"
I was truly impatient now and started ordering him to leave. But Orwell stuck to me like a plaster, persistently begging for this favor.
Completely helpless, I finally said bitterly: "Catching ghosts? Impossible. Absolutely impossible in this lifetime. I don't know spells, have no magic tools - can only make a living doing tattoos. Get out of here and don't disturb my business, or I'll call the police on you."
"I'll pay three hundred thousand dollars," Orwell suddenly opened his golden mouth. "Whether you tattoo or whatever - help me solve this and I'll give you three hundred grand. I can pay half upfront, the rest when it's done."
Suddenly, I felt this evil spirit who had killed so many people really needed exorcising. If she kept harming people, there'd be more bloodshed. How could a righteous person like me stand by and watch such tragedy happen?
All my grandfather's teachings came back to me: "Erebus profiteers should have compassionate hearts to save people's lives!"
I had to help!
I invited Orwell to sit down, brewed him some fine Tieguanyin tea, and asked him to wait while I prepared.
Stein was still looking for Antonio's contact info. I pulled him aside and told him to drop that - we had a $300,000 job waiting. When I explained about Orwell, he immediately shivered, then felt my forehead asking if I had fever. "Dare you take this money? Will you even live to spend it?"
If the Siberian Weasel Graves weren't truly evil, how could they have become Vervecity's horror legend? If the spirits in that well were unleashed, how could I possibly handle them? Without ghost-catching skills, going there would be suicide. Stein advised me to reconsider - I could earn money safely through legitimate Tattoos of Gods and Ghosts work without taking such risks.
Of course, Stein didn't understand my situation. While he wanted me to avoid danger, earning a hundred million isn't easy - I couldn't let this opportunity slip away.
Money is Grandpa's lifeblood!
I told him to stop dawdling - I'd already discussed this with Orwell. Was there a solution or not?
Stein said there might be one way. The key person in this matter was Orwell's second uncle, Luís.
Aria became a vengeful spirit partly because of Luís, and the Siberian weasel too. If we could bring him forth, we might resolve this peacefully without confronting the spirits directly.
"That's bullshit!" I said. According to Orwell, his uncle died years ago. Even if I dug up his grave, only bones would remain - how could he talk? I don't possess Raul Master's ability to summon spirits from the afterlife.
Mentioning Raul Master gave Stein an idea - why not invite them? This fell under their Celestial Master expertise.
I rejected that immediately. Taking a job then outsourcing it would disgrace us! People would say we bit off more than we could chew - "Don't wear a big hat if your head's small; don't take porcelain work without diamond tools." I demanded better solutions, convinced Grandpa must have handled ghosts without direct confrontation before.
Finally, Stein sighed as if struck by another dubious idea. He suggested giving Orwell a soul-summoning tattoo to invite his uncle's spirit, potentially reconciling Aria and the weasel's grievances.
This wasn't impossible - such tattoos exist. But summoning typically only works within seven days after death when souls might still linger before reincarnation. How could it work now?
Stein explained I misunderstood. There's a belief humans possess three souls and six spirits: the Heavenly Soul (Taiguang), Color Soul (Shuangling), and Sound Soul (Youjing) in Taoism.
The Heavenly Soul is the vital life force - its departure means death, and it's what reincarnates.
The Color Soul governs intelligence and mental acuity. Mental disabilities suggest damage or incompleteness here. When people say someone's "been seduced by something," they mean this soul.
The Sound Soul represents the part of spiritual consciousness that wanders outside the body with one's thoughts and intentions. If Luís died an unnatural death, he must have had unfinished business or someone he couldn't let go of. In that case, his Sound Soul should still be lingering somewhere - perhaps in the old village or beneath the tree where he was hanged.
Even though the physical locations might be gone now, souls don't necessarily depart with them. If we could summon this soul, we might resolve Aria's grudge against the Siberian weasel.
Stein's suggestion made sense - it was worth trying. Perhaps this was exactly why the High Priest directed Orwell to find me.
There indeed exists a spirit-invoking tattoo called Equinox Flower, an unusually eerie Yang-themed design.
While most Yang-themed tattoos follow orthodox patterns, Equinox Flower is the sole exception.
Known as the flower of death, legend says it grows leaves without flowers or flowers without leaves. It blooms by the Naihe Bridge in the Underworld. When tattooed, it gains soul-summoning properties.
If we tattooed Orwell with this design and he returned to that village, he might encounter Second Uncle Luís. We could then guide the uncle's Sound Soul to the well, potentially resolving Aria's resentment.
Without delay, I rushed downstairs to discuss this with Orwell, who immediately agreed without hesitation.
His second uncle had raised him - essentially a second father. The chance to see him again, even as a spirit, brought Orwell more joy than anything.
The Equinox Flower design is relatively simple - a skeletal-looking blossom with withered leaves but no flowers. Its eerie appearance perfectly suits the death flower that grows in the Underworld, nourished by the dead. How could it not be creepy?
I tattooed it on Orwell's shoulder, completing the work in about ninety minutes. Since summoning can't be performed during daylight, we waited in the shop until nightfall.
That Sanniu Village of Orwell's was truly remote - far beyond suburban areas, in such an isolated location it made one's scalp tingle. No wonder they built a dam there. Both Stein and I grew apprehensive - the hiking alone could break one's legs.
Yet the village monument remained. Shining my flashlight in the dark night, I discovered bloody handprints on it - unnervingly fresh.
Orwell explained that after so many deaths, the abandoned village had indeed become haunted - just not as violently as the well. Occasionally, dam workers would see groups of people sitting on the village monument or gathered by the dam - their faces paper-white, dressed in old-fashioned clothes, chatting and laughing like no living people would.
But workers couldn't report such things - in this era, anyone claiming to see ghosts would be suppressed, possibly even sent to a mental hospital.
The workers had no choice but to buy spirit money and offerings, worshiping whenever possible. So while the place remained haunted, it had stayed relatively peaceful. Orwell speculated that if Aria escaped, the dam would be the first place affected - all those workers would likely be killed.
Aria's vengeful spirit was already powerful to begin with. After being sealed at the bottom of the well for thirty years, her resentment would surge skyward upon release, leading to mass slaughter. Combined with Lucky's presence, the situation would become truly life-threatening.
Actually, the full thirty years hadn't yet passed - there should be at least half a year remaining. But the seal appeared to be weakening daily. Orwell could see the golden light dimming significantly, and sometimes Aria even managed to crawl up to the well's mouth to lie there.
Orwell estimated Aria would emerge within days - otherwise he wouldn't have sought me out so urgently.
Along our path, we passed the dam. Half of the left side showed remnants of the former village, while the other half had been completely converted into dam infrastructure.
The village ruins stood overgrown with weeds. In one spot, a tree stump crouched like a ghost - impossible to spot unless you pushed aside the grass.
Orwell explained this was where his second uncle had been hanged - though technically not hanged to death, but rather died from untreated severe injuries.
I had Orwell stand near this spot while revealing his Equinox Flower tattoo and calling out his uncle's name. When summoning spirits, having the tattoo on a blood relative improves the invocation effect.
Orwell complied, but nothing happened. When I asked if he saw anything, he shook his head.
Besides summoning spirits, the Equinox Flower tattoo can partially open one's yin-yang eyes to see nearby souls. Orwell's inability to see anything meant his uncle's Sound Soul wasn't present.
I instructed Orwell to return to his former home - perhaps his uncle's Sound Soul lingered there. These souls appear in places they knew best and missed most, or near people they longed for, continuing to wander endlessly.
Such souls remain invisible and harmless - mere fragments of memory drifting through space.
Orwell's home had long since disappeared, leaving only flattened ground choked with weeds. Overcome with emotion, Orwell's nose stung as he nearly burst into tears. He hoarsely called for his uncle, desperate to see him again.
Just then, Orwell suddenly jerked as if electrocuted. After a brief tremble, he whispered to me: "Someone... just patted my shoulder from behind."