钟红英《无处不在的神灵》

Until 1994, I lived in this village, moving away only when I began my studies at a university in Beijing. This marked the true beginning of my life, far from my hometown. Like all the other village children, I instinctively accepted the presence of spirits, ghosts, and auras in the world from a young age. For the villagers, it was a given that Guanyin provided peace, the Five Grains Immortal ensured bountiful harvests and good health, the Earth God protected the village, the Kitchen God oversaw food and drink, and the Fairy Immortal Patriarch drove away evil spirits and diseases. These deities, stemming from Buddhism and Taoism, were universally seen as benevolent protectors who saved people from suffering.

Additionally, the ancestral spirit was another benevolent deity in the village. The ancestral hall, built in the village's centre, was the life source for the Zhong clan of Jiutai. Day and night, it stood there, a constant reminder to the clan members never to forget their ancestors or lose their roots.

Generally, except on special days designated for ancestor worship, I dared not enter the ancestral hall lightly, fearing I might disturb the resting ancestors and cause discomfort to the living souls. However, visiting the ancestral hall was acceptable during festive times like the New Year. It was with this sense of comfort that, on the last day of 2013, amidst the festive atmosphere of the New Year, I joined the stream of people worshipping their ancestors and entered the sacred and solemn ancestral hall.

The ancestral hall, "Yingchuan Hall," faced south with its back to the north. It was constructed from grey bricks and tiles, surrounded by a high wall that enclosed it in its world. Upon entering the gate, an open terrace of about 20 square meters was used for burning paper offerings and setting off firecrackers. The main hall stood in the middle, flanked by side rooms. At the centre of the main entrance was a long wooden table with a censer. Above the hall screen, red paper with black characters read, "The Ancestral Spirits of the Zhong Clan from the Earliest Ancestors to the Present Descendants." On either side were couplets: "The ancient waters of Yingchuan nourish us through the ages, and the beauty of Tai Mountain and Chuan River lasts forever." The left side room was a storage area secured with an iron lock. The front half of the fitting side room also contained a censer and a couplet: "Brothers come together from the same root, offering sacrifices together for a thousand autumns." This room was said to honour the eldest son of the Fourth and Fifth Young Masters, who later moved to Jiangxi and became the ancestor of the Jiangxi branch. The rear half of the room was similarly locked. Still, I remember that during my childhood, while playing hide-and-seek, I accidentally stumbled in and was shocked to find shelves stacked with coffins, most of them black, but one white, adorned with bold petal patterns, looking exceptionally eerie in the dim light of the ancestral hall.

Older people reassured us not to be afraid, explaining that those who dwelled within the ancestral temple were our ancestors and benevolent gods. These deities, they said, would never harm their kin without reason. Though the ancestral temple appeared enigmatic and self-contained, it was never genuinely distant from our mortal world. It was eternally open, welcoming a continuous stream of homemakers who came to pay their respects to their forebears.

The tables in the temple were laden with sacrificial offerings: the three kinds of livestock, fruits, and vegetables. Amidst the flickering candlelight and the lingering fragrance of incense, deciphering the mutterings of each woman was nearly impossible. However, their solemn expressions unmistakably conveyed their deep reverence for their ancestors.

The walls of the ancestral temple were adorned with densely posted "announcements of new births," each in a celebratory red. These announcements, carefully unfolded and layered over those from the previous year, informed the ancestors of the birth of new family members, detailing their date of birth, the eight characters of their horoscope, and their full names.

Occasionally, when a family member passed away, their relatives would bring a paper house to the temple and burn it as an offering. In one corner of the temple, bamboo branches stood ready. After my Uncle Bing passed away, my cousin and I followed the elder's guidance to burn a paper house in his honour. This paper house was three stories high and lavishly furnished, with cars, a colour TV, a refrigerator, and other household appliances. We even saw paper servants bustling around inside.

The elder instructed us to handle the paper house carefully to avoid tearing it before burning it. He warned that any damage would cause the deceased to suffer from the elements "on the other side." He recounted a "true" story of a family who dreamt of their deceased relative complaining about a broken house and the cold weather, only to remember they had accidentally poked a hole in the paper house beforehand.

When it was time to burn the paper house, the elder told us to hold bamboo branches and gently pat around the fire. This ritual, he explained, was meant to drive away homeless "wild ghosts" from seizing the house.

My grandmother, an almost 80-year-old devout Buddhist, initially practised vegetarianism and chanted Buddhist sutras on each lunar month's first and fifteenth day. Eventually, she adopted a daily vegetarian diet. The tales of gods, Buddhas, and the peculiar events in the village could take days to recount. Among all these deities, the most extraordinary in her view is Immortal Master Gongdi, a local deity from Shanghang. Legend has it that Immortal Master Gongdi was originally named Huang Shifu, a person from the early Song Dynasty. His ancestors, fleeing turmoil in Hubei, relocated to Zijin Mountain in Shanghang with his wife, Zhang. There, they had a son named Shifu, who was exceptionally intelligent and unlike ordinary children, earning him the title Immortal Master.

Immortal Master Shifu pursued ascetic practices and achieved Nirvana, which is believed to be a reincarnation of the Supreme Being. He married Dongshi, known as Fairy Dong, and together they had a son named Jixian, also called Shisanlang. A young man named Xingcheng, also known as Balang, arrived in the area to study and was chosen as their son-in-law. This led to a local saying: "Immortal Master Gongdi married Balang, and a girl without a husband got a husband." Immortal Master taught his son-in-law the cultivation arts, and both attained Nirvana.

Mountain demons frequently caused havoc at that time, leaving many homes desolate. Immortal Master used medicinal pills to heal the sick and save lives. He also led efforts to eradicate threats from tigers and wolves. During a severe drought, he prayed for the people, bringing them much-needed sweet dew. Immortal Master became a revered living immortal. One day, after driving away demons and suppressing evil spirits, the Immortal Master, his son, and his son-in-law retreated to a cave in Zijin Mountain and never emerged again. He was 73 years old. Though they were no longer seen, their apparitions often appeared on the cliffs. In gratitude, the people reported their heroic deeds to the imperial court. During Emperor Renzong’s reign in the Song Dynasty, they were honoured as "Three True Immortals Who Protect the Country and Love the People."