Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Corpse-Driving Sect

Master nodded, walked to the center of the room, glanced around, and said, “There’s indeed some lingering ghostly energy here, but it’s probably not a vengeful spirit—the resentment is quite faint.”

I nodded as well, tried to comfort Chu Mengxi a little, and asked, “Then what should we do, Master?”

Master thought for a moment, then began, “Let’s do it this way, you rascal—”

But before he could finish, a sudden jingling sound came from outside. Master frowned slightly, walked over to the window, and cautiously opened it a crack. Chu Mengxi, already frightened, let out another sharp scream at the unexpected sound of the bell. Her forehead was slick with cold sweat. I reassured her, moved to stand by Master’s side, and Chu Mengxi clung tightly to my arm, refusing to let go.

We both approached Master. He opened the window a bit wider, signaled us to be silent, and whispered, “Shh! Don’t speak. Look over there.”

Following his gaze, I too was startled by the scene. Chu Mengxi seemed about to scream again, but Master was quick to cover her mouth and whispered, “Don’t be afraid, little Chu, we’re right here with you.”

Chu Mengxi nodded rapidly, and Master slowly withdrew his hand. I frowned and asked, “Master, is that the legendary corpse-driving?”

Master nodded, his eyes on the line of figures in the distance. “I didn’t expect such a coincidence—we’ve run into practitioners of the corpse-driving tradition.”

I, too, stared at the distant figures. Their attire was unusual: all wore straw hats, straw sandals, long blue robes with black sashes. The one at the front carried a bell. With the recent rain, the air was gloomy and misty, making the scene from afar even more eerie.

I shivered and whispered to Master, “Which are the corpses, and which are the living?”

Without hesitation, Master pointed at the leader. “The first is alive—the corpse driver. The ones behind are all dead. The last one is likely another corpse driver.”

I nodded, counted with my eyes, and asked, “There are only four corpses. Why are there two corpse drivers?”

“It’s simple. Driving corpses is a long journey. One driver wouldn’t be enough, so there are two: one leading in front, one following behind to make sure no corpses are lost. They can also take turns to rest if needed.”

I nodded again but couldn’t help my curiosity. “Master, what are the secrets of corpse-driving? Do you know them?”

Master shot me a glance, leaned on the windowsill, and watched the procession. “I don’t know all the details, but I do know a bit.”

“Then please tell us. And what’s the bell and the gong for? Isn’t corpse-driving supposed to be quiet? Why carry musical instruments if you want to stay unnoticed?” I pressed on, puzzled.

Master rolled his eyes at me. “Who told you that corpse-driving is always done in silence? It’s a legitimate profession, otherwise how would everyone know about it? There’s a reason for the bell and the gong. The bell is called the Soul Capturing Bell, the gong is called the Yin Gong. Their main use is to control the corpses, and also to warn passersby not to approach.”

I made a noise of understanding, then asked, “So, where did the corpse-driving trade originate? Are there apprentices? I can’t imagine anyone would want to learn it—it sounds so creepy. Who would voluntarily study such a thing?”

But Master shook his head. “Who says no one learns it? If no one did, where would corpse drivers come from? Would they fall from the sky? As for the origins, there are many stories, but the most widely known traces back to Chiyou. Legend has it that Chiyou, the ancestor of the Miao people, fought the Yellow Emperor by the Yellow River, where corpses littered the battlefield. After the fighting, Chiyou didn’t want his dead soldiers to become wandering souls in a foreign land, so he ordered his strategist to find a way to have the corpses walk home by themselves. The strategist performed a ritual, and all the dead soldiers rose and followed the talisman south. That’s the origin of corpse-driving.”

I was stunned by Master’s story. “Chiyou? The Yellow Emperor? Master, how does corpse-driving link back to ancient times like that?”

“That’s only natural. Without the past, how would all these strange traditions have lasted?” Master replied.

Only then did I nod in understanding, watching the corpse drivers lead their charges slowly along the mountain road. I was about to ask more, but this time Chu Mengxi beat me to it. “Then, Uncle Tan, how do they actually drive the corpses? The apprenticeship must be very strict, right?”

Master turned to Chu Mengxi in surprise, then looked at me and suddenly laughed. I shrugged, and heard him say, “Not scared anymore, little Chu?”

Chu Mengxi, a little calmer now, replied, “With you here, I’m not as scared as before.”

“Heh, this girl. Very well, I’ll tell you both about the wonders of the corpse-driving profession.” Master leaned against the window with arms crossed, while I stood beside him with Chu Mengxi, my eyes never leaving the corpse drivers.

Something still felt off to me, sending chills down my spine, but Master’s words pulled me back to the present.

“Corpse-driving is also called ‘walking the path.’ Why? Because the profession has its own taboos. For instance, when you have business, you mustn’t say to a corpse driver, ‘Help me move a corpse,’ or ‘Help me drive a corpse’—otherwise, you’ll be thrown out. Instead, you have to use their jargon, like, ‘Sir, there’s a place that needs you to walk a path.’ Hearing that, they’ll take the job. As for apprentices—”

Master stroked his chin, glanced back at the distant, swaying procession, and continued, “Taking on apprentices is even stricter. There are three tests.”

“What three tests, Master?” I interrupted.

Master smiled slightly. “First, a strong sense of direction. The usual method is to blindfold the applicant, spin them around dozens of times, then have them look up at the sun and instantly point out north, south, east, and west. Only then do they pass the first test. Second,”—he gestured—“is physical endurance. Corpse-driving requires long journeys on foot. If you’re weak, you’ll collapse at a gust of wind, so even if you pass the first test, it’s no use. The third is the most important—courage. How is that tested? Simple: by day, the driver places a leaf on a grave deep in the mountains, weighs it down with a stone, and at midnight sends the applicant to fetch it. If they dare go, and have passed the first two tests, they’re accepted as apprentices. If not, even passing the first two isn’t enough. That’s why there are so few corpse drivers, and the tradition is fading away.”

After Master finished, he gazed again at the ghostly procession. I saw a certain look in his eyes, though I didn’t say anything. Chu Mengxi, having heard the strict rules for apprentices, seemed intrigued and tugged at Master’s sleeve. “Uncle Tan, are there any other stories about corpse-driving? I want to hear more.”

Master turned to her, smiling. “Well, Chu, you’re really not scared anymore, are you?”

Chu Mengxi shook her head. Standing by, I was also amazed—these rules were far stricter than for our own profession. When I became Master’s apprentice, all I had to do was hold a washbasin and offer him a hot towel to wipe his face, and that was it; who would’ve thought there were even harsher requirements elsewhere?

I looked at Master and suddenly said, “Master, I think I once read somewhere about ‘three types of corpses you drive, and three you don’t.’ What does that mean?”

Master shifted his gaze from Chu Mengxi to me. “Oh, that’s called the Three Drives and Three Avoids.”

“Three Drives? Which three do they drive, and which three do they avoid?” Chu Mengxi asked.

Master paused, pointed at us, and said, “Are you two here just to hear stories? Especially you, Chu—you were just scared, and now you’re not. You’re just like your father when he was young.”

Chu Mengxi stuck out her tongue and smiled sweetly. Master shook his head with a laugh. “Well, since we napped during the day, I’ll tell you. The Three Drives are the beheaded, the hanged, and those caged to death.”

“Beheaded? Hanged? Caged? What are those?” I asked, puzzled.

“You don’t know beheading? In ancient times, those who committed crimes and were executed in such a way—after death, their resentment is immense. Why do corpse drivers prefer these three? Because they died with plenty of resentment, making it easier for spirit wardens to claim their souls, and their lingering energy helps them walk back home, so the corpse driver’s job is much easier.”

“Then what are the Three Avoids?” Chu Mengxi asked again.

Master replied without hesitation, “The Three Avoids are just as easy to understand: those who died of old age, those who drowned or hanged themselves, and those killed by lightning or fire. The naturally deceased have already had their souls fetched by the wardens—corpse drivers can’t snatch souls from the King of the Underworld. Those who drowned or hanged themselves are also avoided, because they’re still eligible for reincarnation, and if you drive them back but can’t find their spirits or tether them, it only causes trouble. As for lightning and fire deaths, it’s obvious—most struck by lightning are hated by all, even the heavens can’t stand them. Driving such corpses is asking for trouble. And those burned beyond recognition—there’s nothing to be done. That’s the Three Avoids of corpse-driving.”

I listened carefully, glancing at the distant procession—it was strange that after all this time, they were still within our sight.