Borrowing Life

Chapter 1

On the day of my daughter's one-month birthday party, Justine, with trembling hands, insisted on bestowing a "blessing for a long life" upon the baby. Before I could stop her, she had already breathed heavily onto my baby's face. The baby immediately started crying.

I frowned, quickly taking the baby back into my arms to soothe her. However, all the relatives present criticized me for being ungrateful. Feeling wronged, I vented about the incident online. Among hundreds of comments, one stood out:

"Was the old lady a psychic when she was young?"

I was taken aback by this question. I honestly didn't know. Justine was over ninety years old, still healthy, and preferred living alone in the countryside. I didn't interact with her much. My anger stemmed from her lack of hygiene; after all, the baby had just turned one month old and had a weak immune system. But this user named "Christopher" immediately asked if Justine was a psychic, implying some superstitious nonsense to scare people. It seemed absurd.

Christopher then replied, "The picture you posted was taken at home, right? The balcony is filled with thick black air, heavy with bad energy. Someone must have cast some kind of curse there."

This comment worsened my already bad mood. Before I could type a response, other quick-fingered users had already retorted:

"People nowadays really don't appreciate good intentions. The old lady meant well, wishing for your daughter's longevity, but you misunderstood her."

"Exactly, the old lady might be a bit superstitious, but she meant well. Instead of being grateful, you slander her? Are you going to accuse her of witchcraft next? Ha!"

"I don't think it's that serious. The blogger shouldn't be upset. The old lady is just old and uneducated. At most, she passed some germs or saliva. The baby will be fine, don't worry."

"Haha, all this talk about 'bad energy' and 'curses' is scary. Someone might think I'm reading a fantasy novel."

As I exited the comment section, I glanced at Christopher's profile picture. It was a black-and-white image of an occult symbol. Could he be an occultist?

Curious, I clicked into his profile. There weren't many posts, just some photos of an abbey, videos of creating protective symbols, and a few online shop links. Scrolling further, I found a photo of him in a purple ceremonial robe. He really was an occultist.

But with so many online scammers these days, these things could be photoshopped. Seeing the skeptical comments, Christopher, perhaps feeling embarrassed, replied again:

"Why don't you ask her if she was a psychic? But don't let the old lady know."

I was puzzled. Being a psychic isn't illegal, so why hide it? I asked why.

"The balcony facing south should receive the most good energy, but yours is heavy with bad energy. This is unusual. There must be some kind of curse nearby, and possibly accomplices. Be cautious to avoid alerting them."

Christopher's reply was so bizarre that dozens of comments calling him a scammer quickly appeared. It seemed he was waiting for my answer, as he didn't reply further.

Although I usually didn't believe in such things, I decided to investigate, holding my sleeping baby and heading to the living room.

It was ten o'clock at night. The TV was on, and my in-laws were watching a live broadcast intently. My husband, Brodie, was lounging on the couch, playing with his phone. Justine was nowhere to be seen, likely already asleep due to her age.

I sat next to Leyla, chatting casually, waiting for the right moment to ask, "Mom, what did Justine do when she was younger? It's surprising she knows about the blessing for a long life."

Leyla, still watching TV, replied absentmindedly, "I heard she used to help people who were affected by a curse in the village. She was probably a local healer or a psychic. Ask your dad; he knows better."

I was stunned. "She really was a psychic!"

Darin, thinking I didn't believe it, proudly said, "Of course! Why would we lie? When I was a kid, my mom was famous in our town. People came to her to pick auspicious dates for weddings and funerals. My brothers and I often went with her to the celebratory feasts..."

While Darin reminisced, I quickly typed a reply on my phone: "She really was a psychic! It's true!"

Someone immediately responded, "Blogger, don't be too superstitious. So what if she was a psychic? Psychics can have descendants too."

"But don't you find it scary that he guessed she was a psychic so accurately?"

"Maybe they're just interacting to gain more attention. Nowadays, fake things online seem real. I've been scammed many times. Their ultimate goal is to sell products. Check out Christopher's profile; he has online shop links."

"It's all superstitious nonsense. We've all had basic education. How can you be so easily fooled?"

"But the baby is just one month old. It's better to be cautious. What if there's really a problem? Can you take responsibility?"

Ignoring the debate, Christopher replied, "Using some kind of curse to turn a place filled with good energy into one with bad energy, combined with the old lady's unusual behavior of blowing a blessing for a long life onto your child, is very suspicious."

Christopher's last sentence gave me chills.

"If I'm not mistaken, the old lady is trying to perform a life extension ritual!"

Though I didn't believe in ghosts, the term "life extension ritual" startled me. I tried to calm myself, but anger surged within me. This was absurd. It was my daughter's one-month birthday, and he dared to say such ominous things.

I typed furiously, "Life extension ritual? My daughter is just one month old. How can she be part of a life extension ritual? Watch your harmful words!"

The comment section exploded:

"What? Life extension ritual? Are you kidding? It's 2024, and people still believe this? Scammer!"

"But the baby is the old lady's blood relative. I don't believe she could be so cruel. Even a tiger doesn't eat its cubs! Don't be ridiculous. Besides, the old lady is so old. What life does she need to borrow?"

Others had different opinions:

"But I think it's possible! When I had my baby, my 88-year-old grandparents came to see us. They didn't even enter the room, fearing they'd pass their sickness to the baby. They just looked from afar and left. Justine's behavior is bizarre. It's normal for the blogger to be cautious."

...

As the debate continued, Christopher replied again:

"Many people mistakenly believe that the elderly, having lived long enough, aren't afraid of death. This is a common misconception. No one wants to die, especially those closer to death. Some say, 'How could they harm their own grandchildren?' But how many of you remember your great-grandparents' names? There's little emotional connection between people separated by nearly a century."

"In folklore, there's an evil practice called borrowing life. Practitioners secretly perform a ritual, mixing an infant's saliva and hair with their own birth details and hair, burning it to ashes, and placing it on the infant for forty-nine days to successfully borrow life. The infant will then starve to death within three months, with no discernible cause. Meanwhile, the borrower will appear rejuvenated, as if they've gained decades of life. This is the success of borrowing life."

Though I didn't believe in such superstitions, I couldn't deny that Justine's vitality was unusual for her age. I remembered the first time Brodie introduced me to his family. Justine and Leyla sat together, looking so young that I mistook them for sisters.

Now, thinking back, Justine did seem too young.

"Think about it. Did the old lady give anything to the baby? Like a protective charm?"