The Unremarkable Little Taoist Master

Standing at the doorway of the bedroom, I felt as if I were engulfed in a sea of blood; the stench of gore seemed almost tangible. I gently pushed the bedroom door open and saw a young man lying on the bed, dressed in a white shirt.

The young man’s white shirt had already been saturated with a deep crimson, and his hollow gaze along with the expression of sheer terror on his face made it clear that he had experienced unimaginable fear before his death.

Even more bizarre was that the young man seemed entirely devoid of moisture, lying there shriveled without a single visible wound on his body.

A middle-aged police officer quietly spoke to me, “The autopsy results just came back; there’s not a drop of blood in the deceased’s body.”

I nodded and continued to examine the victim. After a while, I still couldn’t find any valuable clues and had to give up.

The police officer beside me looked at me with anticipation and anxiously asked, “Have you found any clues?”

I shook my head and sighed helplessly.

At that moment, the old daoist priest spoke up, “Kid, if you can’t handle it, just step outside.”

Hastily, I turned and walked out. I needed some fresh air; the scene was churning my stomach, and if I stayed any longer, I would likely be sick.

The old daoist priest cast a meaningful glance at me and then shouted to the police officers dealing with the scene, “Make sure to secure the area.”

He followed me outside to the entrance of the residential building. I pulled out a cigarette from my pocket, lit it expertly, and took a deep drag to relieve my frayed nerves.

With a cheerful grin, the old daoist priest asked me, “What’s wrong? Not handling it well?”

I rolled my eyes, wanting to retort about how this old man could be so bold, but remembering his identity made me hold my tongue.

I smiled and took another long drag of my cigarette, saying to the old daoist priest, “I’ve always hated this smell of blood.”

He chuckled and replied, “Are you really sure you didn’t find anything at all?”

I shook my head, and the old daoist priest looked at me without saying another word.

After a while, I said, “I should head back now.”

I politely declined the old daoist priest’s offer to send someone with me and slowly made my way towards the shop.

For some reason, I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was following me.

I quickened my pace, and it seemed like the person behind me did the same.

They were tailing me closely, and as I noticed my home was not far away, I suddenly felt a sense of relief.

I hurriedly opened the door, locked it securely behind me, and finally sat down to relax.

Suddenly, I spotted a little girl in the corner of the room. She was probably the one who had been following me.

With a timid look, the little girl said, “Big brother, someone is following you. You need to be careful.”

After she spoke, her expression changed, and then she vanished.

I was immediately filled with confusion; the girl hadn’t harmed me-in fact, she had warned me.

But I didn’t know her and had no idea what her intentions were.

Who could the person following me be?

With so many troubling things happening around me, I felt a sudden headache creeping in.

Sighing, I decided to just take things one step at a time and not dwell on these matters any longer.

Then came a series of knocks on the door that jolted my already calmed nerves back to tension.

I immediately sat up from the couch, looking anxiously towards the door.

I walked over and peered through the peephole, spotting a delivery person vigorously knocking on my door.

Oh, it was just the delivery person. I felt my tension ease and opened the door.

The delivery person looked worried as they handed me a package and then pulled out a slip, saying, “Sir, could you please sign for this?”

As I signed the slip, I asked the delivery person, “What is this?”

The delivery person seemed quite impatient. After I finished signing, they took the slip back without a word and left.

I couldn’t help but mutter under my breath about their attitude. Seriously?

I closed the door, holding the package with a puzzled expression.

To my surprise, the package had no sender information at all-nothing, not even a hint of who it was from.

After some internal debate, I ultimately decided to open it and see what was inside.

I slowly unwrapped the package, revealing a clock inside. It wasn’t very large, but it was indeed a clock.

Staring at the clock that lay before me, my mind was racing with curses.

Who would send me a clock¹? This was obviously a deliberate act.

And I didn’t have any enemies; how could someone be cursing me?

The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. I picked up the clock, intending to throw it violently to the ground.

Just then, the voice of the old daoist priest echoed in my mind.

“Kid, whatever you do, don’t destroy that clock, or you’ll face a great disaster.”

Upon hearing the old daoist priest’s words, I quickly set the clock back down and asked, “Old man, what should I do now?”

After a moment of silence, the old daoist priest replied, “You don’t need to do anything right now; he’ll send you more things.”

More clocks? My expression was bordering on rage as I coldly said to him, “Next time you receive anything, you must accept it as is. Don’t destroy anything. After I deal with my situation, I’ll come to help you.”

Once the old man finished speaking, his voice faded away, and I looked at the clock on the table with a scowl.

I took a deep breath, placed the clock back into the package, and put it away in the living room.

Since the old daoist priest advised me against destroying it, I would just store it away. He couldn’t be lying to me.

I tucked the clock into a spot where I couldn’t see it-out of sight, out of mind.

I plopped down on the couch and, feeling bored, turned on the television to pass the time.

Suddenly, I saw on the screen that they were covering today’s incident at the residential building.

“Today in our city, a major criminal case occurred. The victim was completely devoid of blood, with no clues left behind. The police are actively investigating the case.”

Next, a series of crime scene shots flashed across the screen, and I felt a wave of disinterest wash over me.

Suddenly, the camera angle shifted, focusing directly on the young man.

There he was, the pale young man lying on the ground, his face filled with endless resentment as he stared fiercely at me. Then he suddenly opened his eyes.

He locked eyes with me, sending a jolt of shock through my body. I hurriedly tried to turn off the TV.

But the television flickered with strange colors, and I saw the young man in extreme agony, howling in despair.

As if enduring immense pain, he glared at me and screamed, “It’s all your fault! You’ll pay for my life!”

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