Chapter 2

The *Twelve Methods of Suppressing the Mountains* consists of twelve parts: Altar Sacrifice, Preaching, Witch Doctor, Nurturing Poison, Talismans, Forbidden Spells, Divination, Rain Prayer, Dream Interpretation, Epidemic Prevention, Deity Worship, and Body Strengthening. The entire book is written in traditional Chinese characters, interspersed with many messy notes, illustrations, and personal experiences, and is about half an inch thick. In the final chapters, there are also some miscellaneous observations and reflections.

Due to the use of traditional characters and handwritten text, which is half classical and half vernacular, and with missing pages, it is very difficult to read.

When we were handling my grandmother’s funeral, my mother was very worried, but I did not pay much attention to these things. Apart from flipping through the thick book out of boredom, I was so busy with the funeral that I almost forgot about the matter of ingesting the poison. On the third day after the funeral, I packed my bags to return to Dongguan, but my mother asked me to stay for two more days.

"Why?" I asked her. My mother told me that tomorrow was the first day of the month, and we should see if what my grandmother said was true.

My mother, with a worried look on her face, said, "She never lied to her family. Sigh, she used to want me to take over, but I was afraid of bugs and refused. Later, she never mentioned it again. Why did it fall to you? Sigh, I wish I hadn’t called you back." I laughed at my mother for overreacting, but I didn’t take it seriously. I agreed to stay for a few days and hang out with some friends.

The next day, after drinking at a friend’s house, it was already late, but my mother had not gone to bed.

She scolded me for not listening to her and not staying at home. I saw that her face was pale and her lips were tightly clenched, thinking she was sick. It was already 11 PM. My mother said she was fine and that she and my father were sitting in the living room, waiting solemnly for midnight to arrive.

I noticed that there were two bundles of red cloth and some mugwort on the beam of the living room, and some scattered millet around the wooden threshold, placed irregularly. Seeing their serious expressions, I also felt uncomfortable. My mother, seeing that I still didn’t believe her, told me some stories from the past:

The Miao people are divided into "raw Miao" and "cooked Miao." The "raw Miao" are isolated from the world, while the "cooked Miao" are assimilated, living mixed with Han people, not residing in villages, not worshiping, not celebrating Miao festivals, and even not speaking the Miao language. My grandmother lived in Dunzhai all her life, which was once a "raw Miao" village. In the past, the authority of the village chief was supreme. The only person he feared was my grandmother. When she was young, she was a beauty in the area, and many people lusted after her. Later, after some unknown incident, she followed a shaman in a deep mountain Miao village to learn witchcraft.

The term "shaman" in Miao villages refers to both men and women, and the shaman my grandmother followed was a man.

The Miao people are skilled in nurturing poisons, especially those in the Ten Thousand Mountains. In the early days, the mountains were undeveloped, and few people ventured there. Venomous snakes, centipedes, lizards, earthworms, and toads were everywhere, and over time, people learned about their toxicity. My grandmother’s master was a skilled poison nurturer and was well-known in the entire Xiangxi region before the liberation. However, he later died in a remote mountain, his body left unattended, and his intestines were pulled out by wild dogs, stretching five meters long, covered in white maggots.

Later, my grandmother became the shaman of the Miao village.

In 1950, when bandits were rampant in Xiangxi, a bandit leader passed through Dunzhai and took a fancy to a girl in the village, intending to abduct her. The Miao people in the village were fierce and fearless, so the bandits only took some grain and left. My grandmother only muttered a few words to them and said nothing more. Later, the liaison officer of the People's Liberation Army told the villagers that the eighteen bandits, including the leader, all died of a terrible disease, their bodies infested with hundreds of insects. After cremation, their hearts and livers were still intact, resembling honeycombs.

...

My mother told me many old stories about my grandmother, some from my honest grandfather and some from the elders in the village. I learned that my grandmother, whom I had always considered superstitious, had such a glorious past. It wasn’t until the 1970s and 1980s, when the government increased contact with the outside world, that my grandmother gradually faded from the public eye, focusing on rituals, deity worship, healing, and fortune-telling in the Miao village, spending her remaining years.

"When you went to work, we tried to stop you, but your grandmother read the incense and said you were like a piece of jade that needed to be polished. She said you should go out into the world and endure some hardships, which would be beneficial for your future. So, you should thank your grandmother for your current situation," my mother said. I smiled but didn’t respond. Over the years, I had learned some things about fortune-telling, which involves a mix of reality and illusion, observation, and questioning, all falling within the realm of psychology.

At that moment, the electronic clock in the living room suddenly struck midnight, ringing loudly.

My mother suddenly stopped talking and, along with my father, looked at me in fear.

I was puzzled by their gaze and shifted my eyes to the glass decoration next to the shrine. In the mirror, my face was as withered as gold leaf, yellow and terrifying, with black streaks moving across my forehead. I stared, and a sharp pain rose from my left abdomen, wave after wave, surging like a tide... I saw my mother trying to say something, but my ears heard nothing, and it felt like the world was ending, yet I remained conscious.

Then I felt something moving in my abdomen.

Ah... Ah... It hurts, it really hurts!

The pain lasted for ten minutes, during which my mind was exceptionally clear, every sensation vivid and distinct. The world seemed to distort, and it felt as if countless demons were crawling out of the ground.

Later, I heard that pain levels can be quantified, and if the pain of a broken rib is taken as a reference, the pain of childbirth is about ten times that. I always thought that my pain at that time was twice that of childbirth, as I had broken a few ribs before.

When I regained consciousness, I found myself lying on the ground, drenched in sweat, as if I had just been pulled out of water. My mother and father were trembling in fear, not daring to help me up. The floor was wet with sweat and my incontinence, making the living room smell foul. My mother was cursing, "You old hag, even harming your own grandson, you deserve to die a violent death. You old hag, don’t come back to haunt my son Lu Zuo..."

She cursed harshly, a custom in our hometown, where if an elder returns to harm a relative, they must be cursed away. I, on the other hand, was cold and numb, taking a long time to realize this wasn’t a dream, and shakily got up.

I suddenly remembered something: today was the seventh day after my grandmother’s death.

That night, I studied the book my grandmother left me for half the night. Due to the messy handwriting and my complex emotions, I was in a state of fear about the unknown, and didn’t discover much.

The next morning, I took a bus to a tertiary hospital in the city, where I underwent a full-body examination, which cost nearly 6,000 yuan. In the afternoon, the doctor told me that I was in excellent health, with no signs of sub-health, and that my body was gradually improving. The X-rays showed nothing unusual inside my body.

I truthfully told the old doctor about my situation. He was silent for a long time and then mentioned two possibilities:

1. Psychological or mental-induced phantom pain, which often occurs in drug addicts, mental patients, and those who have taken stimulants or neurotoxic plant pollen.

2. There are many things in the realm of mysticism that science cannot explain, such as the situation I encountered. The practice of nurturing poisons has a long history in southern China, Taiwan, Hong Kong, and many Southeast Asian regions. Some suggest that poisons are actually viruses nurtured by toxic insects, but this is uncertain. If true, medical treatment would be ineffective, and only experts in the field could help.

Our region has always been home to ethnic minorities, and the administrative unit is called the Miao and Dong Autonomous Prefecture. The old doctor, who had been there for decades, naturally knew some things, but perhaps due to hospital regulations, he was hesitant to say more. He only told me to find someone. After much persuasion, he finally told me about a shaman named Long Laolan in a Miao village in Jinping County. Hearing this, my face turned pale.

My grandmother’s name was Long Laolan.

On my way home, my business partner, Ahgen, who runs a jewelry store in Dongguan, called me, asking when I would return. He said there was an issue at the store: a salesgirl had quit, and she usually trusted me the most. If I had time, he wanted me to talk to her. We only had about a dozen employees, and although there was no labor shortage in Guangdong at the time, the girl he mentioned was very good at her job, and it would be a loss if she left. I had no interest in these matters and asked why she quit.

Ahgen said her boyfriend was a thug, relying on her for support, and her salary couldn’t cover their extravagant spending. Her boyfriend had encouraged her to "go to sea," which means to become a prostitute. Most of the sex workers in Dongguan were former factory workers, a trend that worsened after the 2008 financial crisis. I pursed my lips, thinking of the girl with big, bright eyes like two wells overflowing with water.

I told Ahgen that I had something to deal with and couldn’t return. I asked him to tell the girl that either I would help her find a decent man to settle down with, or she should leave and never show her face to me again. I didn’t want to see such a lowlife.

Ahgen sighed on the phone, and I remembered that he seemed to have a thing for the girl.

After I got home, I began to carefully study the *Twelve Methods of Suppressing the Mountains*. After about half an hour, I found the record of the golden silkworm poison that my grandmother had given me.

This poison is created by catching venomous snakes, eels, centipedes, frogs, scorpions, earthworms, large green caterpillars, mantises, cockroaches, four-legged snakes, spiders, and black-headed iron ants within three days of the Dragon Boat Festival. They are placed in a large earthenware jar and sealed, allowing them to fight and devour each other. The more venomous eat the less venomous, and the stronger eat the weaker. Prayers are made before bed and upon waking each day. After a year, only one remains. This one, with a changed shape and color, is called the golden silkworm poison.

This is only the first step. The one I ingested had been refined by my grandmother for decades and was used as a life-bound poison.

This golden silkworm poison, isolated from the world for decades and living in a dark environment, is extremely aggressive. It becomes especially agitated during yin weather. Only those born on the 15th of July, who have experienced the opening of the ghost gate and the cleansing of yin energy, can withstand it without immediate death. Of course, this is just the first step. To fully suppress the ferocity of the life-bound golden silkworm poison, one must consume a specific herb.

This herb is called the dragon fern, and it must be worn and woven by a dwarf.

Poisons are fierce but naturally fear dwarfs.