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Here I was, thinking that Father would utter with his own lips the name of a prestigious and illustrious sect or order. Instead, Father had merely revealed that the man in the picture was his teacher with the monotonous mood as if he was speaking to a sleepy class of students, which made me wonder if his tone could not be more condescending.

During dinner, from nowhere, Father took out a sword and handed it to me. "Take this sword, since the previous one was broken," he said. I took the sword from him and studied it. What the, I gasped quietly. This looked exactly the same as the previous one! Did Father buy these swords in bulk? The sword looked oddly similar to the ones used by old men and women in their morning taiji exercise no matter how I looked!

As we chomped on the food, I asked Father, "How did you know that incident involved Master Six?" Father gave a sly chuckle. "I knew about it since the beginning. But what I did not know, was that even Celestial Master Zhang himself was involved in this squabble." But you knew everything, I brooded. So that would mean that you had long been watching from the sidelines, I thought. "But since you knew everything, why did you not directly invite Master Six earlier?" I asked. "I dislike people who have lots of wives and mistresses; we could not get along," Father simply replied. Of all the answers that he could have told me, this was the last I would expect. I had thought Father would go on one of his ramblings about this being the laws of Nature and Karma or so forth. I was dazed beyond words by his answer. It was true that the female patient was the incarnation of one of Master Six's mistresses; which would also indicate that Master Six had several other paramours. Then again, Master Six, as an immortal in his own right, would surely have a tale of his own to tell.

Mother was clearing up the table when we were finished with dinner, when Father asked me from his seat at the sofa, "How goes your training with the manuscript I gave you?" It was only then when the memory of him giving me the booklet dawned on me. I had completely forgotten about it and had stuffed the booklet into the bottommost part of my bag after finding that the contents were unintelligible. Truthfully, I admitted, "Nope. I did not practice anything from the booklet yet. I could not even understand the things inside." Father sighed. He gestured for the sword that he had just given me and took it from me, before rising up and shuffled towards the door, calling to me as he moved, "Follow me. Downstairs. I'll show you once. With your ability, you should be able to understand after my demonstration." Could I not rest just one day after a day of work, I grimaced painfully.

Dragging my wearied body, I followed Father downstairs. The sky was falling dark when we stepped outside. Father held the sword in his left hand, while the index and middle fingers of his right hand were extended with the rest of his fingers clenched together as he assumed a stance I recognized from the booklet. In the passive illumination of the evening's twilight, he began to dance around with the sword, his movements lissome and his strokes fluid like the flowing waters of a brook. I could not recognize the rest; this was a set of disciplines of swordplay that I had never seen before. Watching him from beside, I became mesmerized and captivated that I did not realize when it was that the sword had flown out of my father's grip; floating in mid-air, slashing and hacking at imaginary opponents, with the tip of its hilt just grazing the extended fingers of my father's left hand. Suddenly, the inconceivable occurred: with a flick of his left hand, the gliding sword flew away from him and broke into four identical swords! The four swords came alive; they hovered around Father, circling around him as if they had sentience of their own!

Father's demonstration came to a halt when his sword dance ended. I was left agape with shock and awe. He held up the scabbard of the sword lazily, and flicked his other wrist, gesturing the sword to come back; with a loud "Chink!", the sword shot from the sky and darted back into the scabbard. Father strode slowly towards me and handed me the sword. With a light pat on my shoulder, he began shifting towards the stairs. Stepping upwards without looking back, he said, "Practise. You'd pass if you're able to do what I did!" (I would later one day find out from Father that this was merely one of the elementary disciplines of my father's order. There were more bizarre and fantastic techniques that encompassed various disciplines: swordplay, talismans conjuration and many others more.)

With a dumb look, I trailed after Father up the steps. When we reached the landing of the stairs, he noticed the dull look on my face and broke into a laugh. "What's this? You're dazed by my demonstration?" I nodded glumly. "Father," I asked, "Tell me. Are the things I read from fantasy novels true?" Father cast me a glare that reminded me of the look he gave bewildered clients. "Did I not tell you long ago? There are some things that most people do not believe in. Yet, this does not mean that they do not exist. Then again, pay no heed to the glorified and immortalized theatrics and exaggerations in fiction." Indeed. Is there anything else to be doubted, especially when I have witnessed with my own eyes the powers of an immortal in full display today? Look at the society today; there are even mundane people who would vehemently deny the existence of ghosts. They would flatly refute any shred of proof of tthe existence of the Horse-faced and Ox-headed Keepers of the Underworld, the Black and White Heralds of Hell (the Heibai Wuchang), and of course, the Ten Courts of the Underworld and the Six Paths of Samsara. Interestingly enough, little did such intransigent and single-minded organisms realized, the beast-faced guards of the Underworld and their black-and-white counterparts existed, although they might differ to common perception. Then again, Father might also be thinking something along the same lines about me too.

I returned to the Center with my new sword the next day, stepping through the door and found Lin Feng training his student in martial arts. I signaled Lin Feng to me. "I have a set of swordplay, Brother, and I wonder if you might know a thing or two about its lineage, since you are the most learned in martial arts here." I extracted the booklet of illustrations that my father had prepared for me and showed it to him. Lin Feng riffled through the pages. "Heh heh heh... From where did you find this, Brother?" "Where else?" I scowled, "My father, of course! He bade me learn all these, saying that these were the techniques of the sect he belongs to. Yesterday he'd even demonstrated for me to see. You weren't there! If only you were there to see everything yourself..." I began narrating to him what happened last night. At the end of my tale, Lin Feng regarded me, suspiciously. "You're awake, are you not?" With a lot of exasperation and amusement, I glowered at him. "Do I look like a man with a yarn of nonsense to spin? Come on, just have a look. Tell me if you can see what origins are they from! I know nothing about martial arts! The illustrations mean nothing to me!" To my surprise, Lin Feng shoved the book back into my arms. "There are ethics and rules. Without your father's consent, I am not permitted to study the techniques of his. Moreover, I might know a little about whips and darts, but the wushu I study is predominantly unarmed combat. I know little about swords. My skills depend on punches and kicks, both of which I employ to my fullest."

Could you not just say you know nothing about swords, in short, to save us the time and trouble, I mulled sourly. I spent the entire morning that day, lazing on my couch as I descended into a utopian trance of the illustrations and drawings from my father's manuscript without being able to understand any of it. Yuan Chongxi woke up later and came down to find me sulking at the book. He stared at me for some time until he said, "Come on, Shiyan. There's no need to brood and pout. I might not understand why are you upset, but still, take things easy." Some times it could be an inconvenience to have a person who could divine secrets easily by your side, especially if the person was a dull and slow-minded person. The things that he just said had done nothing to ease my bitterness but instead they rubbed salt to my misery!

And hence, a week, two weeks, a month and another month fleeted by...

For an entire year, I cooped myself at the Center, trying my best to fathom the secrets of how my father was able to levitate a sword in mid-air! Despite my best efforts to study the techniques depicted in the book, I had failed again and again to endeavor what my father had demonstrated that evening to me. Everything seemed so ordinary and mundane with what I practised; I could emulate nothing of the fantastic and incredible spectacle that my father had shown me. I was simply incapable of his wizardry with the sword, much less in conjuring additional copies of it!

The year passed by with the usual banality of trivial work: we either advised clients in Fengshui or helped with funeral as well as marriage arrangements. Most of these drudgeries were handled by Yuan Chongxi and his work was impeccable. The year was a good year for him too; many rich businessmen were recommended by both Mr. Lee and Mr. Zhang, our wealthy patrons; he would regularly be invited to dinner every once in a few days, a divine seer to the prosaic businessmen who would constantly pepper him with requests for advice and would unfailingly try their utmost to heed his words like gospel. Yuan Chongxi himself began to enjoy the nature of his work, although there were also the occasional minor mishaps with his calculations.

We never saw the last of Zheng Shuang; he would visit us frequently, becoming part of our gang and would come to spend time with us whenever his time allowed. Many a time he would come with frivolous conundrums such petty thefts or robberies which involved nothing of the supernatural, which even we could hardly provide any help. Then again, Zheng Shuang had enjoyed being regarded as one of the rising stars in the police force ever since he had solved the case of the haunted pig farm.

On the other hand, Lin Feng kept himself busy with training his young student. Not only the little girl had learned the skills of Chuojiao from him, but he had even trained her in the skills of wielding chain whips and throwing darts! As anyone familiar to martial arts might know, learning to use the chain whip and throwing darts were hardly simple skills to learn pick up; many times the whimpering cries of the little girl wailing in pain would echo around the Center when she accidentally hurt herself during her training with ropes...

Hence, the year passed, and once again a warm season of Summer beckoned cheerily at us. It was in the evening, when we were thinking of calling along Zheng Shuang to meet up for barbeque skewers. I took out my phone to call him. When the line was connected, his voice came barking out of the earpiece. "Brother Shiyan! What impeccable timing! Did you know that I was just about to call you?" Surely this can be nothing but a cruel coincidence, I mused. We were only calling you to see if you want to join us for a meal! But I was caught up in the moment. "Of course, I am able to divine that you need help! Speak up!" I said, trying my best to feign omniscience like how most fortune tellers would.

Not long later, Zheng Shuang's car could be heard screeching to a halt outside the Center. He rushed in, wiping off his nervous sweat from his forehead and came to me hurriedly. "A boy is reported missing! The news of his disappearance is now being widely circulated on the Wechat app! Now the child's parents are extremely worried and my superiors have ordered a task force to be formed to solve the case immediately. Thing is, I am the leader of the task force. The director held my hand when he came to deliver the order, saying that I will have the police force's full support in solving the case. But I need to be quick! The news is now spreading like a bushfire across all surrounding districts and counties! The longer we delay, the longer we lose the initiative!"

End of Volume Two

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