The room was small. A single bed placed at one side, and at the opposite side, a computer table occupied the corner. There was a cramped place with enough room to sit on the bed while operating the computer between the bed and the table. A small faded white cabinet sat next to the computer table. It small enough, so it didn't obstruct the door.

Despite its size, that room had its perks. The room was next to the garden outside. When the windows opened wide, the soothing smell of jasmine, faintly carried by the wind, while the sun shone through and brightened the room.

The owner of the room arranged everything in good order. He kept the number of items on the table or cabinet, limited. There were no items, carelessly left neglected. He made the room felt free and uncluttered.

On the computer table, the old PC took the center, a small stack of old books on its left and a small pot with a bunch of small bamboos in it, on the other side. On the cabinet, there were rows of old pictures of men and women. Before these old pictures was a small pot, with a little incense burning inside.

It was about 06:00 AM now. In this city, it was the best part of the day. The sky was bright, the air was fresh, and the sun gently warmed the earth. That small room's windows and door were wide open.

A tall and thin young man sat on the bed. The wind gently blew his hair through the opened window. He folded his long legs comfortably before him, an opened book on his lap. His long black hair fell over his shoulder. Like many other Chinese males, he had difficulty to grow a decent facial hair but still, he preferred to let his facial grew sparsely on his face. The messy facial hair created a mess on his delicate face.

Peace reigned over the room, but shortly a banshee-like voice broke it, “ A Liang! A Liang! When are you going to pay your rent, you fag!”

An old lady stood before the opened door. Her hands were on her hips. She wore a thick makeup that couldn't hide her age. The bright red lipstick declared her rebellion against time and nature.

“Good morning, Aunt Sara.", the youth hastily jumped from his bed

"If you keep angry like that then it would ruin your beauty. Listen, I'll pay it next week. I promise you. I never break my promise, right?”, he grabbed her hand and swung it like a spoiled brat.

“Hmph! Don't think I will give you any leniency, just because you act like a spoiled brat.”, the old lady reluctantly took her hands away.

Her speech might be still harsh, but her expression softened a lot.

“Thank you Mama..., you must be a goddess reincarnated. Here's a charm to keep evil away.”, the youth inserted a folded yellow paper to her hand before sent her away.

“Who believe in your silly charm!? Don't think you'll get any discount for this. You should be ashamed of yourself. A young man like you should find a decent job, but you rather dabble in any mumbo-jumbo piece of shit. Cheats on people's money rather than doing honest work.”, the old lady walked away, but she still ranted all the way to the first floor.

The youth smiled bitterly, sighing his eyes traced through all the old pictures on his cabinet, “Father... grandpa... ...you sure never give me an easy task.”

They passed away years ago, but he still remembered and kept each of their words in his heart. His grandfather was a loose Daoist cultivator. According to his father, in his youth, his grandfather accidentally found the inheritance of Zhang Boduan, a famous Daoist during the Song dynasty. Almost like a story in a wuxia movie, there were other practitioners tried to take it from him. Through many chases and struggles, his grandfather successfully escaped and arrived in Indonesia. There he settled down, had a family and passed down Zhang Boduan's inheritance to his descendant. Perhaps it was fate, or it was just a coincidence, but Mingliang's grandfather and his father, only had one child, a son to accept the inheritance.

His name was Huang Mingliang. Mingliang means, becoming clear. He was one among few Chinese in Indonesia who kept their Chinese name. It was not that he wanted to flaunt his identity, but his father insisted that a name could affect people's fate.

In the past, both his grandfather and father were famous among the local community. People respected them a lot. People looked for them for advice or asked them to lead a traditional ceremony and blessing. In turn, they provided the family with daily necessity, but that was many years ago. Who still believed in supra-natural existence in today's modern society?

Demons and ghosts were endangered species. They were probably rarer than Sumatran Rhino. Most of the time, people who claimed to have supra-natural power were nothing but a deluded group of people or a con man.

According to his grandfather, thousands of years ago, physical and magical existence, existed in the same dimension. That was the time of magical creatures, gods and demons. That was the time when a single man could wield a power to rule the entire nation. That was the time when a small group of people called themselves god and stood high above the other.

Until about 2,000 years ago when a great sage, who was angered by the injustice, decided to give his life to end it. Through a ritual, he offered his life, to separate the world into two different worlds, existed in the same three-dimensional space but at the different fourth dimension.

That was the end of an era. There were still bits of magic left here and there. Small populations of magical creatures, ghosts, and lower demons scattered all over the world, but they lost most of their power. Practitioners still lived in this world, but no one would ever have enough power to rule the world.

Without enough magic, all magic power slowly grew weaker day by day. Whatever left from the magical creatures in this side of the world, were hunted and killed. Even if they didn't get caught, they slowly died from the lack of magic. The same thing happened to cultivators from various sects and culture. With magic power slowly seeped away from the world, it was almost impossible to achieve any power worth to mention.

Huang Mingliang's father lamented the fate of their family and the fate of his son, but refused to give up the inheritance, for that would be an act of an unfilial son. In his life, he barely able to do the simplest incantations and he knew it would be much harder for his son to achieve anything at all. But, he couldn't abandon it. He taught it all to his son, Mingliang, and expected him to preserve it, just like he did.

Mingliang did his best to learn and practice. Some knowledge was still useful, but most of them were impossible to practice because there wasn't enough energy in this world. The thought to give up his inheritance was something that haunted his mind ever since he became an adult.

“Yo... got scold by that old witch huh?”, a clear female voice woke Mingliang up from his daydream.

A martial looking girl stood before the open door. She was about at Mingliang's shoulder height, quite tall, considered his height. She was wearing a white t-shirt, a sleeveless denim jacket, and black yoga pants, showing her lean and well sculpted athletic body. Her hair was short, almost military-like. Her skin was smooth and well tanned.

If that weren't enough clues, then her knuckles were the obvious hint. Mingliang silently lamented the fate of those delicate fingers and hands, whenever he saw those knuckles. It was such a waste of a gift from mother nature. Her knuckles were big, and the skin around was thick and darkened. It ruined her delicate hand and turned her from a princess into a beast out of action movie.

“Yo, Sari. Hahaha. Yeah..., it was the monthly sermon.”, Mingliang was ruffling his hair and laughed awkwardly.

“Here, and Mum wants me to remind you about the cleaning ritual for my father's collection.”, the girl handed out one box filled with food.

“Thanks a lot. You and your mother are too kind. I told you. Your father's collections no longer contain anything. You can clean it normally.”

Mingliang unpacked the food. Sari shrugged her shoulder, “Mother wants you to come, I just a messenger.”

Sari felt short when she stood near Mingliang, but it was a nice change for her. Only around Mingliang, she felt like she could let herself leaned on someone, of course, she didn't do that. For some minutes, there was nothing but silence.

“So, you still a single huh? Are you sure you don't want me to introduce you to my friend?”, it was Sari who finally broke the silence.

“Ha! No, thanks. You know my situation. No more mumbo jumbo shit, it's going to end with me. I'm not going to make my son doing what I do.”, unconsciously Mingliang took a glance toward his father's picture.

“You're funny. Why do you have to be so stubborn? I don't think your father wants to see you like this.”, there was a sense of bitterness in Sari's voice.

They knew each other in high school. At that time, there were some supra-natural disturbances in Sari's house, and someone introduced Sari's parents to Mingliang's father. Since then, they had been a good friend. The only person who could calm the tomboyish girl's anger was Mingliang. And at the same time, nothing could anger Mingliang, unless someone was messing with Sari.

“Nah, who want to marry a monk like you anyway.”, Sari saw his expression and snorted.

“Okay, that's it. Don't forget the appointment. See you later.”, as soon as Mingliang emptied the box, Sari took it away and left.

Mingliang was staying still on his place, focused his ears and followed the sound of Sari's steps as she left the house. He was standing for a few more minutes until there was nothing to hear anymore and bitterly sighed.

A small stature boy with a monkey-like face was standing in front of Mingliang's room and greeted him with a clear bell-like voice, “Teacher, did Sister Sari just gives a visit?”

The boy wore old clothes and shoes. Both the clothes and the shoes were a little too big for his body.

He slightly bowed and then entered the room, “What are we going to study today?”

Mingliang smiled, all the clouds were wiped away from his heart, “Today? Well, first let me see how much you remember Sanzijing.”

The boy was Mingliang's only disciple. Mingliang already decided that he was going to be the next inheritor of Zhang Boduan's secret scripture. His name was Somad. Mingliang met him when he got a call from Sari. Sari, in her free time, volunteered to teach how to read and write, to kids who lived on the street. One day, one of her pupils was acting weird. Some other kids said that she was possessed by a ghost, after doing something indecent in a cemetery.

Sari called Mingliang to help. He came and helped. He found out that it wasn't a case of possession. The kid was facing a problem she couldn't handle. Mingliang did his little tricks, massaged some acupoints to help her relax. After a while, she gained her consciousness again. Mingliang gave her some herbs and told Sari of his diagnosis.

Somad was one of the street children who saw him helped the kid and got interested. For weeks, this boy gave a visit to Mingliang, every day. No matter how Mingliang explained and refused, Somad still came day after day. Mingliang's explanation only convinced the boy even more. After Mingliang saw his determination and passion, he decided to give the boy a chance.

He was grateful for Somad's presence in his life. Now, he didn't have to worry about his duty to pass the knowledge and practice. There were many things to teach, but Somad showed that street children could be more intelligent than children in general. They had street wisdom, plenty of wits and tough as hell. However, Mingliang decided to focus on teaching Somad about the values and ideals of ancient Chinese culture, before he went too deeply about the practice.

Every day, he would teach him passages from Sanzijing. Both to teach him Chinese characters and to instill some values as well. It was also a test for Somad, to see how he would pass through this challenge. So far, Mingliang was satisfied.

The clear sound of youth yet reach the teenage, was ringing clearly through the room, "To feed without teaching, is the father's fault."

"To teach without severity, is the teacher's laziness."

"Hmm... teacher, is that why you like to knock my head with your knuckles?", Somad turned his head to Mingliang and asked.

Mingliang's hand was raised, readied to knock Somad's head, when his phone rang, singing an old midi tune.

“Teacher, you got a call.”, Somad wrinkled his nose and grinned.

“Hum, don't get distracted, keep writing and read it as you write.”, Mingliang knocked his head before he stood up and answered the call.

The conversation was short, as soon as Mingliang picked up the phone, he didn't say anything but, “Okay.”

“I understand.”

“I'll be right there now.”

He took a pen and paper, wrote an address and called Somad, “Somad, I'm sorry, but I must go now. Comes again tomorrow, okay?”

“Teacher, do you get a client?”, Somad couldn't hide his excitement.

“Yes, why? You want to come along?”, Mingliang smiled. In his mind, he was calculating, should he allowed his only disciple to tag along or not?

“Yes, yes, yes, master I won't disturb you, I will quietly watch.”

“Hmm... you wait outside first. I'll think about it.”, Mingliang didn't answer right away.

He led Somad out and then closed the door. As he changed his clothes, he was thinking, 'What could happen? It sounds serious. But, it can't be for real. Some people do worry for nothing and tend to make things bigger than it is...'

It didn't take a long time for Mingliang to get ready. He wore a long sleeve t-shirt and a jean. For a few seconds he hesitated, then he opened the cabinet, took a small bronze medal and put it in his pocket. When he opened the door, he found Somad already waiting with expecting face.

“Hmm...well, you'll keep pestering me about this, if I don't let you come.” Mingliang playingly knocked Somad's head with his knuckles.