Over the next few days, we searched through all the Daoist classics and finally found the solution in the "Dongxuan Lingbao Sandong Fengdao Kejie Yingshi".
The Reincarnation Soul needs to be resealed using the blood of a close relative on the "Day of Heavenly Pardon".
But Xiuxiu's mother died early, and her only close relative was the long-deceased Bald Old Third.
Unless, I use my blood instead.
“Your birth date and time clash with Xiuxiu’s, which makes you a ‘substitute’ for the Reincarnation Soul.”
Yuan Ying stared at my palm: "Bald Third Brother also included you in the substitution scheme, and now it's time to turn the tables on him."
She took out the Soul-Guiding Jade, on which my name and Xiuxiu's birth date were slowly merging, like two drops of ink spreading on the jade surface.
Late that night, the sound of a baby crying suddenly came from outside.
I stood guard in the shop and saw that the paper-mache children on the shelf were lined up and kowtowing towards the shrine.
The paper figure at the front holds up a yellow talisman with the words "Chen Yan accepts the debt" written on it.
It was indeed Bald Old Third's handwriting.
At the same time, the sound of shattering glass came from the warehouse where Xiuxiu lived.
When I rushed in, I found her facing a mirror, using broken glass to draw paper baby eyes on her forehead.
"Grandpa, my little brother is calling me."
When she turned around, her eyes had turned into empty black, and an unnatural smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
"Dad said that if I fold a hundred paper figures for him, he will take me to see Mom."
The paper figure she was holding between her fingers had my birth date and time clearly pasted on its chest.
Dry!
When will this ever end?!
Yuan Ying rushed in just in time and slapped the peach wood sword against Xiu Xiu's forehead: "Wake up! What you're folding isn't a paper doll, it's your own soul!"
The Big Dipper pattern on the sword lit up, the blackness in Xiuxiu's eyes quickly faded, and as she fell to the ground, the paper figure in her hand suddenly burst into flames.
A half-slip of paper peeked out from the ashes: "The three calamities of a person destined for death: the first is blood debt, the second is paper debt, and the third is..."
We then realized that Baldy Third's life-substitution technique was far from over.
Those seven pairs of red shoes and seven red vests were merely the first seven kalpas of the ten reincarnations of the soul.
Xiuxiu and I each have three substitute talismans hidden on us, which could be activated at any time by the vengeful spirit of Bald Lao San.
"The tribulation is not over yet."
Yuan Ying picked up the note, her fingertips brushing against the last blurry character "soul," when suddenly a rumble of thunder rolled in from outside the window.
"The seven pairs of red shoes are the calamity of the earth, the seven red vests are the calamity of the heaven, and the remaining three calamities are the 'human calamities' specifically reserved for you."
Just then, Xiuxiu, who was squatting in front of the shrine folding lotus lanterns, suddenly pointed at the paper baby carriage and exclaimed in surprise.
"Grandpa, Master Yuan, look, there's grave soil on the wheels!"
The stroller that had always been on the top shelf was now parked in front of the shrine, with damp yellow soil embedded in the tiny wheel crevices, clearly the marks of having just been driven over a graveyard.
That doesn't make sense, how could there be loess?
You can't just go out for a stroll and then come back on your own, can you?
And it walked away on its own right under our noses, without any of us noticing?
Suddenly, Yuan Ying's brush, which was copying scriptures, tore through the Xuan paper, and the ink smeared on the paper, leaving the outline of an infant.
I saw that the Xuan paper in front of her had somehow transformed into the shape of five fingers, with the fingertips pointing towards the mass grave.
"Yingniang, on your Xuan paper..."
Yuan Ying's gaze wandered somewhat: "On the day of Heavenly Pardon in three days, we must find the Fetal Soul Jar no matter what."
She looked out the window at the dark clouds looming overhead, her voice trembling with a tone I had never heard before: "Otherwise, the next paper calamity won't be so simple."
At night, I heard Xiuxiu sobbing softly in the next room, mixed with the rustling sound of papers turning over.
When I lifted the curtain and went in, I saw her folding paper figures using my birth date and time, blowing on them with each fold.
"I'm sorry, Grandpa, I'm so sorry..."
Moonlight streamed in from outside, illuminating the seven burnt paper effigies of young boys placed beside her pillow, each bearing the scorch marks left by my blood sacrifice on its chest.
"Don't break it."
I held her trembling hand and noticed that her fingernails were full of vermilion powder: "This is not your fault."
Xiuxiu suddenly looked up, her eyes reflecting the candlelight in the direction of the shrine.
“But my father wrote in his diary that the fortune teller said I was born with a dark destiny, destined to protect him from disasters…”
She touched the paper pattern on her wrist: "If I die, Uncle, will you be spared from being implicated?"
My throat tightened, and I remembered what Yuan Ying had said: "People with a Yin destiny are not jinxes, but mirrors of the human heart."
The thunder outside the window grew closer, and the wheels of the paper baby carriage cast their reflections in the puddles, much like the red circle on the map of the mass grave.
Buried there are not only the jars containing fetal souls, but also countless wronged souls trapped in the cycle of reincarnation by the life-substitution technique.
I sighed and looked at Yuan Ying.
"Yingniang, did you already know about Bald Old Man's plan?"
I asked, "From the first time he came to the store to buy offerings, you made me come along. Is it because he's already got my birth date and time figured out?"
Yuan Ying put down her pen and looked out the window.
“Thirty years ago, my master saw the same red vest in a mass grave. It belonged to a scholar who was killed by a life-substitution spell, and his ghost has been wandering the world for thirty years.”
She turned to look at me, tears welling in her eyes: "Once the Reincarnation Soul is activated, unless the Fetal Soul Jar is found, all those involved will become living souls in paper effigies, forever trapped in the Yin-Yang rift."
Before he could finish speaking, thunder roared.
Xiuxiu's handbag, which she had placed to the side, suddenly slipped off the back of the chair, and a yellowed letter fell out. It was the fortune-telling by the fortune teller mentioned in Bald Old Man's diary.
"A woman's fate is Yin, she can inherit her father's debts, and after seven tribulations, her soul returns to a paper offering..."
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