Stories of ghosts and gods have existed since ancient times.
Whether one believes in them or not is purely a matter of personal choice. Yet no matter what, there still exist countless things in this world that cannot be explained by science. The existence of ghosts and gods, for instance—no one can definitively confirm whether they are real.
Yet they still lurk in the minds of most people. That has become a common understanding across the world.
I used to be an atheist. Even though I had a very unusual experience as a child, I never believed in their existence. After all, I had never seen them with my own eyes.
That changed more than ten years ago, during a trip to Japan. It made me believe they exist—and I saw them with my own eyes…
From that moment on, I became a yin-yang master. But the locals preferred to call me something else—a Spirit Medium Grandmaster.
My story begins with an overseas call back in 2002.
My name is Lu Cheng. I'm from northern China. Following my elders' advice, I studied international trade at a third-rate university. Back then, they told me:"Foreigners' money is ours for the taking. Study this, and you'll never go hungry!"
They weren't wrong. But life is a bastard that won't feel satisfied until it slaps you hard.
Making money is hard, and eating shit is bitter—no truer words ever spoken.
For a long time after graduation, I couldn't find a job in my field. I had no connections to get me into a foreign trade company, even though there were already plenty of them in China at the time. Life was just that fucked up.
People who fail for too long always get looked down on—even by their own relatives.
It was during my most depressed, hopeless days that a phone call from across the ocean changed my life forever.
It was my younger uncle. He was in Japan and had just been admitted to the hospital.
He'd suffered a sudden illness and would need at least two months of rest and treatment to recover.
Those adrift in a foreign land are always lonely and helpless. My uncle wasn't married, and he had no friends who could help him. He needed someone to take care of his daily life, so he could only call home for help.
The family gathered, discussed, and all eyes fell on me.
Everyone was busy. No one else could spare the time to look after a sick man.
Among everyone present, I was the only one without a proper job. Besides, when I studied foreign trade, I had also taken Japanese as an elective, aside from English. I was the most suitable choice and would adapt better. My uncle thought so too.
And just like that, I was "righteously" chosen.
Almost before I knew what was happening, I was "kindly" pushed toward Japan.
It was my first time going abroad. My heart was filled with curiosity and anxiety. While handling the paperwork, my uncle told me to apply for a work visa—for as long as possible. I didn't understand, so I just did as he said.
But I found it strange. I was only going to stay for two months at most. Why get such a long visa? Was there some other benefit to it?
"Haha, Lu Cheng, you're here!"
Before long, I met my uncle at a hospital in Yokohama. He was overjoyed to see me and sat up straight away. I was shocked and rushed over to push him back down.
"Damn it! You're in a hospital bed and you're still this energetic?"
My uncle had lost a lot of weight, his face sallow. But his voice was loud, and his spirit was high. It seemed his condition wasn't serious, and I felt much relieved.
We were close, so I spoke casually with him—not like how I talked to other elders, where I had to watch every word. My uncle's mind just worked differently from everyone else, by nature.
He was an extraordinary man. Early on, during the friendly period between China and Japan, he sold all his belongings and ventured to Japan alone. And he actually built up some capital.
During Japan's massive economic bubble collapse, when countless people fell into despair, bankruptcy, and unemployment, my uncle slapped his forehead and charged straight into starting a business anyway.
He gathered a few fellow villagers and opened a small workshop, making all kinds of statues, omamori charms, and other items, selling them to shrines, temples, and individuals.
What do people do at their most desperate? If they don't kill themselves, they probably pray to gods for a turning point.
My uncle's wildly creative idea didn't just avoid ruin—it flourished.
Over the years, he'd earned a lot of money and always returned home in style. But now that he was sick, there was no one by his side to take care of him. Thinking about it, he seemed quite pitiful.
"Did you bring the stuff?" my uncle suddenly asked.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I brought it. Uncle, why did you make me bring all this junk?" I asked, confused.
Before I left the country, my uncle had called me several times specifically, telling me to bring certain special items. He never did that before. International calls were expensive, so every conversation was kept short and to the point. His behavior was highly unusual.
"As long as you brought it. Lu Cheng, I'm going to trouble you for a while. You should think about it—if you want, you can stay here and work with me. You'll definitely earn more than in China. Work hard for a few years, and by the time you go back, you might even have enough for a wife."
His words tempted me. Earnings abroad were indeed much higher. Back home, I didn't even have a proper job. Let alone a wife—I didn't even have a girlfriend. Matchmakers avoided me like the plague. It wasn't like other young men with good jobs, whose doorsteps were worn thin by matchmakers.
"Actually, besides asking you to take care of me, that's why I had you get a work visa."
My uncle smiled. Then he said something that almost made me spit out my water.
"You learned some of those things from the old lady before. I sell those kinds of items too. We can go into business together. I'll handle the production, and you'll be the resident master. We'll make way more money this way!"
"Uncle, are you crazy? I don't know any of that stuff! If we do this, aren't we… scamming people?"
My uncle glared at me."You don't know shit! Most people just want peace of mind. How many real experts are there? The Japanese eat this stuff up. Haven't you seen how many temples and shrines there are outside? What we're doing is… high-level psychological counseling! Trust me. Would I trick you?"
I was left speechless. The more I thought about it, the more it felt wrong. But I understood what my uncle was planning—and why he'd made me bring those items.
The "old lady" he mentioned was my grandmother. She was special. In her early years, she was a famous local shaman. She'd taken care of me for a long time when I was little, and I was her favorite among all the grandchildren.
She not only took me everywhere but also taught me many strange and bizarre things.
When she passed away, she even left me her entire precious box of old artifacts—things no one else could get their hands on.
My uncle wanted me to continue my grandmother's old trade here in Japan. That way, he could scam… I mean, comfort more people and earn more money.
I was a college student with a conscience, after all. It just didn't feel right.
But the thought of "enough money for a wife" kept lingering in my mind…
Back where I lived, there was a guy who went abroad to work and came back with plenty of US dollars. The first thing he did was build a fancy little house. Later he married a wife, used the money to open a factory, and lived an amazing life.
I was just a broke loser with nothing. But even a loser wants a wife!
And so, while taking care of my uncle, I half-heartedly practiced Japanese with him and flipped through an ancient book my grandmother had left me:The Art of Communicating with the Underworld.
If I was really going to be my uncle's… psychological consultant, I had to look professional, right?
About a week later, I was somewhat familiar with the surrounding area, and my Japanese had improved a lot from practicing with my uncle.
That day, I brought food to the hospital. I caught my uncle acting sneaky, talking to someone on his phone. I vaguely caught words like:"Master from China,""Don't worry,""Truly a real expert."
I felt a little jealous looking at his phone. They weren't cheap, especially back in 2002, when mobile phones were still rare in China.
When he saw me come in, he gestured for me to sit and gave me a look that said: It's time for you to perform.
I was confused. After he hung up, he grinned at me."A client is having some small problems. Go check on him."
"I…" I hesitated, worried I couldn't do it. I hadn't even been to his workshop. Going like this, with no understanding at all, felt inappropriate.
"Don't worry. I'm just letting you run an errand and get familiar with the environment and culture here. Once you adapt, everything will be easy. It's probably just a quality issue, but the client is uneasy. Go calm him down, and we'll fix the quality later. Remember to take the old lady's box with you."
I breathed a little easier hearing that. It really didn't sound like a big problem.
After I set down the food, my uncle urged me to leave, saying he'd be fine on his own. I had no choice but to leave the hospital.
According to my uncle, the client's name was Itakura Naoki.
Not long ago, he had bought a Buddha statue from my uncle to enshrine at home. At first, everything was fine. But after a few days, early one morning, the Itakura family discovered a crack had appeared on the statue…
It should've been nothing—most people would assume it was a quality issue. But Itakura was panicked, convinced it was a bad omen.
In his haste, he didn't know what to do and called my uncle, his supplier, for help.
The Itakura residence wasn't far from my uncle's place; they were almost neighbors. I knew the area well, so I found the house quickly.
On the way, I couldn't help but laugh. Japan was such a developed country. Why didn't they think of scientific explanations first, and jump straight to supernatural causes?
I rang the doorbell. An elderly man soon opened the door, staring at me in confusion."May I ask who you are…?"
"I was sent by Boss Lu to check the situation."
I spoke Japanese haltingly, not revealing my family connection to my uncle right away.
The old man must be Itakura Naoki. His face lit up. He threw the door open wide, bowed deeply, and spoke with great respect."You've come! Thank goodness!"
I was flustered by this kind of etiquette—not sure whether to bow back or not.
Itakura quickly eased my awkwardness, stepping aside to let me in, seemingly urgent.
I was puzzled. It was just a cracked statue. Why was he this panicked?
The Itakura house was a typical Japanese-style residence, single-family with a small yard, two stories. I took off my shoes and followed him inside. Soon, I saw a small household shrine, with a strangely styled Buddha statue enshrined within.
"This is it. Please, tell me what's wrong."
I took a close look—and my heart skipped a beat.
Now I understood why Itakura was so terrified…
The statue indeed had a crack.But it ran straight down the middle, perfectly vertical, almost splitting the statue into two halves.
It wasn't just a crack.It looked as if someone had slashed it vertically with a single heavy blow.
But if it had been cut with a blade…Why was the shrine unharmed, and no dust or fragments on the floor?