KHEMJIRA, Epilogue Chapter:

  The two didn’t stand hugging for long before they heard the sound of a helicopter landing, the strong wind from the rotor blades blowing their hair and clothes, and they slowly pulled apart.

Soon, they saw Jett and Chan running towards them. Even though Pharan was extremely exhausted, there were still many important things he had to do, like summoning the spirit and taking the monk’s body back to the temple for funeral rites.

Once Jett and Chan arrived, they quickly helped support both master and Khem.

The four of them walked back to where Luang Pu Kasem was sitting.

Upon arriving, Pharan knelt down in front of Luang Pu Kesem, about two meters away, with Jett, Chan, and Khem sitting behind him in prayer. He began preparing for the spirit-summoning ceremony by taking a white cloth from his toolbox, spreading it on the ground, and placing an incense pot, a pack of incense, an oil lamp, and a string of beads on it. He then brought out a stainless steel tray, followed by canned rice and pickled vegetables, which he placed on the tray. After opening the cans, he inserted an incense stick into the rice can and lit it.

“Go fetch Luang Pu’s bag.” Pharan instructed someone, and Chan crawled over to retrieve the bag not far away. Pharan took it and placed it beside the food tray, then lit another incense stick to call Luang Pu’s spirit to receive the offerings, and finally placed the incense in the pot.

Then, Pharan clasped his hands in prayer, closed his eyes, and chanted the seven books of Abhidhamma and the Matika Bangsukul. Normally, this ceremony would involve inviting a monk to perform the rites, but with none available, he had to do it himself.

After finishing the chants, Pharan held up the incense pot with both hands, softly saying:

“You are now free from suffering and sorrow. Let’s go home, Luang Pu.” After speaking, he slowly stood up, supported by Khem. Meanwhile, Jett and Chan, once the ceremony was over, helped pack everything back into the toolbox. The canned food, now with extinguished incense, was placed under the Kapok tree where Luang Pu Kesem had sat.

Once everything was ready, Jett carried the master’s nearly ten-kilogram bag, while Chan carried Luang Pu’s body. They followed the master to the waiting helicopter to return. The driver was the same forestry officer who had volunteered for this mission.

Earlier, around four in the morning, Chan, who was resting in Pinto’s hut, woke up and roused Jett, saying it was time to leave. Not long after, Jett received a call from Khachen, whom he hadn’t seen in three years, informing him that a helicopter would pick them up to go to a certain location, which was here.

Upon arrival, Khem helped the master into the back seat, followed by Jett with the master’s bag. Chan placed Luang Pu’s body next to the driver’s seat and then sat in the back beside Jett.

After ensuring everything was in order, the driver took off the helicopter, heading towards Ubon Ratchathani.

When Luang Pu Kesem’s remains returned to his home temple, Pharan sent Jett and Chan to inform his disciples, relatives, and the villagers of the news, so all could come to pay their respects.

Jett, Chan, Khem, and Pharan himself, despite their bodies being in pain and utterly exhausted, had to force themselves to go through with Luang Pu Kasem’s funeral rites first.

Because of the grave karma from this life, they had survived due to the compassion and sacrifice of Luang Pu Kasem. If they didn’t fulfill this, none of them could eat or sleep peacefully and continue living with ease.

Since Luang Pu Kasem was a senior monk with many years of ordination and impeccable moral conduct, his funeral was grand, with all the disciples, including Pharan, cooperating. People came in droves to pay their respects to his body, continuing until the cremation ceremony in the afternoon of the next day.

During the offering of sandalwood flowers, after everyone had been busy with the funeral proceedings for Luang Pu Kasem, Jett, Chan, and Khem finally had time to talk.

“Khem, the monk left this for you.” Jett said, handing over something wrapped in clean white cloth. Khem took it, unwrapped it, and saw an infant-sized anklet made from snake skin.

Just by looking at it, he knew whose item it was and what he should do next.

“Jett, Chan, thank you so much.” Khem said, with Chan nodding slightly and Jett patting Khem’s shoulder a few times before they all walked up to the crematorium to offer sandalwood flowers with others.

When it was Khem’s turn, he placed the sandalwood flowers and the anklet on

Luang Pu Kasem’s left ankle, then spoke softly to the lifeless body,

“I’m returning this to you. May you go to a good rebirth, Luang Pu. I will remember this kindness for my entire life.”

After the offering of sandalwood flowers concluded, the final cremation ceremony began. Jett, Chan, and Khem approached Pharan, who was standing under a tree, all of them watching the white smoke rising calmly into the sky from the chimney.

No one knew that the anklet had been tightly held by Madam-Ramphueng in her last moments of life until it was stolen and sold by a close servant, who didn’t know that the item was meant only as a gift for the descendants of the Phraya Worasingh family.

  About three years later, one day, Mae Ying Kaknang, along with her daughter Krongkwan, went to the market and found the item for sale. They bought it back, the maid who had sold it was punished and immediately expelled from the house.

The item was preserved and passed down from generation to generation, with the hope of returning it to its rightful owner someday.

  After that, the four of them went to the hospital for treatment and examination, spending three days and two nights to ensure their bodies had returned to normal strength before they traveled back to Pharan’s village.

Although Pharan appeared outwardly strong, his body internally had damage that medical science could not detect, an ailment referred to by ancient beliefs as a karmic illness.

Therefore, after returning, he had to continue treatment at home. Jett, Chan, and Khem chose not to go back to school out of concern, fearing that the master would have no one to look after him.

However, today, everything had to end because exams were approaching, and both classmates and professors had called, insisting that the three return to their studies.

That night, Pharan had to bring up the topic:

“It’s time for you all to go back to school.”

“Oh, master, how can we leave you when you’re still in pain?” Jett, who was currently kneeling and scrubbing the floor along with Chan and Khem, looked up to argue immediately, but then winced as he was hit on the head with a tray again.

“That hurts, master.”

Pharan narrowed his eyes and said.

“It hurts but isn’t fatal. Do you want me to tell you why I haven’t gotten better?” “But…”

“No buts. Go pack your clothes now. I’ll have Uncle Chai take you to the airport.”

“Master!” Jett almost threw himself on the floor in protest, but Chan quickly pulled him away. Seeing his friends leave, Khem wasn’t sure what to do next, except to quietly follow them.

“You stay here.”

Khem pressed his lips together, turned back to the master, sat down, and kept his head bowed, not daring to look up.

And every time Khem acted this way, the master would always gently lift his chin to make eye contact.

“Don’t cry.”

Khem didn’t want to cry, but controlling himself in front of master was extremely difficult.

“Master, I…”

“You’re confused. You don’t know what to do next, right?” Khem nodded, then shook his head due to the conflicting thoughts in his mind, before resting his face in the warm palms and holding them, gazing into the dark eyes.

“I want to stay here with you.”

Pharan’s eyes softened, his thumb gently caressing Khem’s cheek.

“You don’t need to rush that.”

“…”

“This home will always have its doors open, welcoming you.”

“…”

“Right now, you should go and live your life as fully as you’ve always intended, do your best in your responsibilities first, and when you want to come back, you can.”

“…”

“I’ll be here waiting for you. Agreed?”

It felt like a great weight had been lifted off him once more. The events that had just transpired made Khem reluctant to leave Pharan, wanting to care for and repay his kindness right here with no intention of going anywhere.

But beyond this, there were many things Khem wanted to do.

Tears flowed from Khem’s eyes onto the master’s hands continuously, before he slowly nodded, filled with respect and love.

“I promise I’ll live my life well and come back to you soon.”

After that day, Jett, Chan, and Khem returned to their full-time roles as university students.

Time passed in peace, Khem learned a lot, understanding the balance between hard study and fun, chasing his dreams alongside Jett and Chan, making new friends, exploring new interests, and even entering art competitions where he won numerous awards. He even got the opportunity to study abroad.

During the school holidays, they returned to participate in community development volunteer camps organized by various rural volunteer clubs in different provinces, places they had never been before, fostering close relationships with the club members, especially with Phraemai.

As for Kornkan, Pondit, and Tejaton, after surviving a life-threatening event, they continued to be ordained as monks, practicing virtue at the temple near their homes.

However, since all of them resided in Bangkok, not far from the university, their studies did not stop; they simply switched to attending special classes every Sunday. They occasionally met with other friends and had conversations.

The volunteer club friends did not hold any resentment towards what the three had done that day; instead, they rejoiced in their merit of becoming monks and regularly visited the temple where the three were stationed to make merit together.

Moreover, Khem got to know Jett’s family. His father is currently a member of the parliament for Ubon Ratchathani province, and his mother is the director of a well-known private school in the same province. His older sister, called Sister Jen, loves and cares for Khem as if he were family.

Additionally, Chan’s mother owns a medium-sized hotel business in Chonburi province. His eldest brother is now a surgeon, and his youngest brother is still in middle school. Chan’s family environment is much stricter than Jett’s. Since his mother raised three children on her own, all have grown up to be good and love each other deeply. Knowing Chan has friends, one of whom is quite wealthy, though a bit roguish, and the other, Khem, who is academically excellent and wellmannered, she feels less worried and lets Chan live his life to the fullest.

Every moment and many events that Khem went through were always shared with two people: the father abbot and the master.

After leaving the master’s house that day, it seemed the master had switched from a button phone to a smartphone. Khachen, a friend of the master, helped him buy it.

The master, not knowledgeable about technology, was tricked into buying an iPhone Pro Max, which, along with being confusing to use, was as expensive as a motorcycle. He also sent one to Khem to have a matching set. This was during the time when the province approved the installation of a mobile signal tower near the master’s village.

Khem and Pharan didn’t talk on the phone often; they both had their own daily responsibilities. Mostly, they exchanged short messages before Khem went to bed, or sometimes Khem would send pictures of delicious food, funny pets, or beautiful sunsets.

And he discovered that the master also had a romantic side when he sent back similar pictures.

And finally, the day arrived when Jett, Chan, and Khem graduated together. The atmosphere at the graduation ceremony was hot and humid, but wherever one looked, there was joy, smiles, and laughter.

Unfortunately, on this day, neither master nor father abbot could travel to attend Khem’s graduation, but Khem understood and held no resentment.

What Khem didn’t expect was the arrival of Khachen, who came with a bouquet of flowers and the keys to a Benz, saying to Khem,

“Pharan asked me to bring you your graduation gift.”

Khem was so shocked he almost fainted, but after recovering from the initial surprise, he accepted everything with a joyful smile, thanking Khachen for bringing the gifts. Before Khachen left, they didn’t forget to take a selfie together to send to their master.

“I’ve transferred a hundred thousand baht to you. Use it to buy some snacks. By the way, where’s Jett?”

“Oh, over there, hey! Khachen, don’t go yet, that’s too much money!”

At that moment, Khem didn’t know what to do and chased after Khachen, trying to give the money back, knowing well that this person wouldn’t listen or comply with his request.

After the graduation day ended, Khem drove the white Benz that master had given him as a gift, taking Jett and Chan to visit father abbot in their home province. When they arrived in the morning, they rushed to find Father Abbot at the temple pavilion and bowed to him.

“Paying respects, father abbot.” Khem said, with Jett and Chan following suit.

Phra Pinto looked at his son with eyes full of affection, along with the two young men he had seen once a year since that time.

“Blessings upon you, layman.”

“Father Abbot, I brought my diploma to offer to you.” Khem took the diploma out of his bag, placed it on a golden tray, and respectfully presented it to the abbot, then stepped back and bowed three times.

“Father Abbot, thank you for raising and supporting me, for always helping and protecting me, sacrificing yourself for me all these years.”

“…”

“I’ve gone through life and death situations. I’ve lived my life with caution, as you always taught me, and now I’ve graduated, capable of earning my own living. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“…”

“Father Abbot…would you like to disrobe and live with me?” Khem clasped his hands in prayer, looking at the abbot, hopeful that he might agree, but if not, Khem knew he could only accept whatever decision was made.

Phra Pinto smiled slightly, his eyes clear and filled with compassion and pride for his son. However, returning to a layman’s life at this point was something he felt he could no longer do.

“You don’t need to worry about me. I am well and happy with my ordination. Leaving worldly life behind to follow the path of Dharma, I don’t feel any distress.”

“…”

“Today, what I’ve been waiting for has come true. That is, to see you living the life you dreamed of since childhood, graduating, having a job, smiling like other young people. That’s all I need to feel at peace.”

“…”

“From now on, I will continue to live by the principles of a monk until the end of my days.”

Khem smiled before nodding, having already anticipated that the abbot would choose this path.

“…”

“Whenever you wish to see me, just come and visit. While you still have the strength, do what needs to be done, don’t leave anyone waiting for too long.”

Khem’s heart skipped a beat, and he blushed slightly, knowing that once, Pharan had come here to see father abbot, but he had no idea what they might have discussed.

Once he understood father abbot’s wishes, Khem didn’t think to challenge or persuade him otherwise. Instead, he changed the subject to health, the upcoming temple fair, and shared his near-future plans, with Jett and Chan answering questions along the way.

When it was time to leave, Khem, Jett, and Chan bowed to his father together, then looked up with cheerful faces.

“Paying respects and farewell, father abbot. Next holiday, I’ll make time to visit again.”

“May blessings be upon you, and may you all travel safely.”

After these words were spoken, all three raised their hands in prayer and said in unison, “Sadhu.”

By a little after ten at night, Khem, Jett, and Chan arrived at the master’s village.

Upon arrival, they parked the car at the village chief’s house because they wanted to reminisce about old times. They shouldered their bags and walked to the master’s house.

The night air in the village was quite cold, especially when they walked through the banana and rubber tree plantations towards the master’s home, it felt even darker and colder.

Everything around was eerily silent, with only the faint sound of the wind. But this time was different from before because Chan was with them.

Just a few dozen meters from master’s house, Khem took the opportunity to hand all his belongings to Jett, saying,

“Take care of these, Jett. I’ll go ahead.” And with that, he sprinted off, ignoring his friends’ protests which were loud enough to scare the birds.

“Hey, Khem, what’s the hurry? Wait for me!”

Khem reached the master’s house first. He stifled a laugh when he saw the master reading a Dharma book, waiting on a bamboo bed in front of the house.

Pretending not to notice that the master was reading the book upside down, Khem quickly approached. The master set the book down as Khem sat down beside him.

Khem met master’s eyes and then slowly bowed down at his feet.

Once again, the master lifted his hand to gently hold Khem’s face. After a moment, Khem looked up and smiled.

“I’m back, master.”

The master’s slender fingers brushed the hair from in front of Khem’s eyes, then flicked his forehead gently.

“What did I tell you to call me?” Khem bit his lip softly, his face flushed as he remembered that the master had recently asked him to change how he addressed him from “master” to something else. Khem wasn’t quite used to this yet.

“…”

“Phii Phim…”

“What was that?”

“I am back.”

The change in the term of address indicated a new form of relationship between us, and this nickname was one that only Pharan’s mother used to call him.

After his mother passed away, Pharan hadn’t heard it until today.

As if time had stopped, Khem was held still by the master’s dark eyes. The distance between them gradually shortened until he could feel the cool, moist tip of the master’s nose touching his cheek.

And then, his lips were kissed gently and sweetly, with the master’s hand behind his neck, preventing him from leaning back.

At that moment, Jett arrived in front of the master’s house, but before he could see anything, Chan, who was right behind him, spun him around, pulled out a cold powder from his side bag, poured it into his hand, and immediately smeared it on Jett’s face.

“Yikes, what the hell, man, Chan, it stings my eyes!”

At that time, the full moon shone brightly, adorned by a sky full of twinkling stars.

The cool breeze and familiar atmosphere warmed the heart.

Accompanied by the howl of the spotted dog welcoming everyone back home, ready to start a new life together.

THE END

  May the power of the Triple Gem,

  The great beings in the sixteen heavenly realms, fifteen earthly realms,

  Tree devas, Brahma devas, and sky devas, among others,

  Bless all the readers who have supported this novel,

  Wishing them ever-increasing happiness and prosperity.

  With love from, Kali

  #KhemjiraMustSurvive

 

KHEMJIRA CHAPTERS HOME

KHEMJIRA, Chapter 37:

  Khem watched the master’s retreating back as he walked back along the path with his black toolbox and the enchanted knife, until he was out of sight. Then, he turned to look at Luang Pu Kesem, his hands still clasped in prayer.

“You don’t need to worry about Pharan. Close your eyes and meditate, think of your parents and the Triple Gem.” After these words, Khem closed his eyes as instructed, and soon his ears were filled with the melodious sound of chanting that soothed his soul.

“Itipiso, Visesei

Issei, Phuttanameei

Imena, Phuttatangsoei

Isotang, Phuttapitii.”

Pharan halted at the cliff’s edge, his eyes clearly seeing the situation below, where hordes of forest and hungry ghosts were on the verge of breaking through Luang Pu Kasem’s glass barrier.

He knelt down, opened his bag, and took out four sections of rattan, planting them into the ground to form a square around himself, then tied a sacred string from one piece to another, creating a forbidden zone.

Once that was done, he placed a small incense burner on a tray, filled it with soil from the ground, lit nine sticks of incense, spoke words of apology to the spirits of the forest and mountains, and then inserted the incense into the soil, followed by placing two medium-sized candles beside the burner.

Next, he unwrapped the red sacred cloth tightly binding his grandfather’s magical knife, immediately feeling the aura of the dark arts and the anguished cries of the spirits trapped within, numbering in the hundreds.

One spirit, driven by pain, burst from the knife to attack, but was firmly held by Pharan’s strong hand on its face, which was covered in burn scars, and he said in a calm voice,

“Calm down, I’m not here to hurt you.”

This spirit locked eyes with Pharan for a moment, seeing in those deep, dark eyes a compassion that was hard to fathom.

“I’m…in pain, let…me…go.” The spirit said. Pharan, sensing its suffering, nodded in agreement.

“I will release all of you.”

Hearing this, the spirit’s tears flowed, longing for its family and homeland it had left behind so long ago; it had once been a soldier who died in battle. Being told it would finally be freed after being trapped for decades, its despair turned into hope, so it retreated back into the knife to await its liberation.

As Pharan gently touched the blade, the many agitated spirits began to calm down.

Then, he closed his eyes to focus his mind, his lips moving in chant to invoke the Emperor’s Mantra for the immediate release of these spirits.

“Na Mo Putthaya, Phra Phuttha, Trairatana Yana…”

Buddho, Dhamma, Sangho, Yathaputmona

Worship Buddha, Worship Dhamma, Worship Sangha

Akki-thanang, Varangandang, Sivali, Ja Mahatherang

The offering of fire, the best of perfumes, the elder monks,

I venerate from afar, I venerate the elements,

I venerate all beings.

“…”

“May the things I pray for be sacred and come true immediately.”

“…”

“Arahant, this is done by karma, bound by karma, let life go to a good rebirth, let every life and every spirit that has been bound in this thing, be reborn in a good realm, so be it.”

This enchanted magic knife seemed to have been purified until it shone with a golden light. Golden spirits, like flames, gradually emerged from it, from one to two, from two to three, until all one hundred and eight were released, scattering in all directions towards the places they longed for. Some went to find their departed loved ones, others returned to their origins in hell to atone for their remaining sins.

Pharan could have used the power of these spirits, but forcing all beings to yield was not his way of conduct. Thus, releasing them was the best choice.

Then, his ears caught the faint sounds carried by the wind, voices that ranged from young women, young men, to the elderly, saying:

“Thank…you.”

“Thank you very much, dear.”

“Thank you so much.”

In truth, not just anyone can do such a thing. To release so many souls, one must be pure from within, filled with true compassion for all beings. Such individuals are rare in this world…

After cleansing the dark magic involving trapping and using malevolent spirits, master then picked up the magical knife, holding it reverently with both hands as he closed his eyes again to perform what is known as “invoking the magical knife.” a crucial step before using it.

At that moment, the wailing of numerous spirits, including dozens of hungry ghosts and forest spirits from all directions, resonated so loudly that it seemed to shake the earth. Pharan remained focused, chanting the following mantra:

“Phutthang Raksa, Dhammang Raksa, Sanghang Raksa, Satru Ma Bidha Vinasha Santi.”

Upon finishing this chant, the dark sky began to show flashes of lightning, accompanied by thundering roars, serving as a warning to those who would commit evil to cease their actions.

After the invocation, Pharan then proceeded to chant the praises of the five divine weapons:

“Sakkassa Vajiravutthang (The weapon of Indra)

Vessavanassa Kathavutthang (The club of Vessavana)

Alavakathu Savutthang (The red cloth of the giant Alavaka)

Yamasanayana Vutthang (The eyes of Yama)

Narayanasangakkara Vutthang (The discus of Narayana)

Panca Avutthanang, Etesang Anubhavena…”

As he chanted, the glass barrier shattered into fragments, and the spirits surged forward in a solid wave of darkness, some running, some walking, some crawling with their arms, some whole, some twisted and broken, their stench of decay spreading for miles.

While chanting the praises of the five weapons, the magical knife in Pharan’s hand glowed. Gradually, golden lines identical to the knife’s design appeared in the sky, forming nine concentric circles that expanded to fill the sky, charged with static electricity and echoing with thunderous roars.

Pharan seemed to be drained of almost all his life force, his previous injuries resisting the power of the Buddha within him, causing blood to flow from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. Yet, he continued the chant, now moving on to the summoning of the gods.

“Sakke, Kame, Jara, Kirisukaratae,

Jantarikhe, Vimane, Tipe, Rathe, Cha

Kame, Tavonakahan, Keha

Vatthumahi, Kette, Bhummacchantu, Deva

Chalathala, Visame, Yakkhapandappanaga

Tithanta, Santike, Munivara, Janang

Sadavo, Me, Sunantu”

“…”

“I call upon the divine assembly, residing in the heavenly realms of Kama, in the realm of Rupa, the realm of Arupa, including the great Brahma, and upon the deities dwelling in mountains, caves, and celestial palaces, those residing in the royal island and cities, in humble homes and grand palaces throughout the countryside, and those who manifest in the shrines of the earth spirits.”

“…”

“Also, I call upon the deities living in streams, ponds, and all the greenery of the forest, whether equal or not.”

“From the Yaksha, Gandharvas , Garudas, and Nagas,

“Please gather here in this place.”

Invoking deities isn’t an easy task, nor does it succeed every time one attempts to do so, due to various factors.

The two previous times the invocation was successful were during the forest’s upheaval five years ago, when the deity invoked was Lord Vessavana, and the second time when Khem appeared, it was Phra Phirun and Phra Mae Thorani. Both times, the invocations were made with the intent to protect the entire village.

However, this time is different.

This time, he prays with the sole intention of protecting his beloved and desiring to spend his life with her until old age.

At that moment, the tattoo on Pharan’s back suddenly warmed, and behind him gradually appeared the seven golden heads of the supreme Naga king, also known as “Maha Ananta Phaya Nakarat.”

The Naga king, nearly five meters long, slithered to a stop just outside the sacred boundary, arching its neck down to shield Pharan’s head with its hood. Its tail, adorned with shimmering golden scales, coiled around Pharan’s territory like a magnificent fortress. Then, tiny drops of nectar began to drizzle down.

Pharan placed the magical knife on the red cloth and stood up, his calm eyes surveying the encroaching spirits.

The golden circle of knives remained suspended in the sky. As a hungry ghost’s hand reached for him, Pharan raised his right hand to his chest level and made a gentle sweeping motion.

Wheee!

A sharp, piercing scream rang out as the ghost was impaled by unseen golden knives, its spirit extinguished. One of the Naga’s heads then stretched out, opened its mouth, and swallowed it whole.

This sound momentarily stopped the wave of forest and hungry ghosts, but instead of fear, it drove them into a frenzy. One forest spirit tried to take advantage of Pharan’s stationary stance by diving from a tree, only to be struck by the Naga’s tail, turning to ash instantly. Everything happened so fast it was hardly visible.

Once Pharan had determined the direction, he raised his hand higher and struck down through the air in a straight line.

Suddenly, the nine rings of golden knives descended like a torrential rain, accompanied by bolts of lightning striking down.

Blood still flowed from Pharan’s eyes every second, and with just one strike, tens of thousands of malevolent spirits were obliterated.

Khem, sheltered within Luang Pu Kasem’s glass barrier, was unaware of the external events. He had been sitting with his hands clasped, listening to the chants for only a few minutes before his hands slowly fell to his sides, the clear vision fading, and then he collapsed unconscious.

At that moment, outside the glass dome, a figure appeared, a deity in pale yellow

Thai attire, her face strikingly similar to Khem’s. She looked towards Luang Pu Kasem with a plea for compassion, to allow her entry into the glass dome.

She was summoned from heaven by a man of great spiritual power, yet she followed the spirit of someone until she reached here. Upon seeing this boy, whose spirit was gradually weakening, she found him on the brink of life and death.

Though she couldn’t remember who he was, this child had called her to him. Not only was he gentle in nature, but he was also very cute, making her feel an immediate connection. She wanted to ask the senior monk for permission to approach.

Luang Pu Kesem, seeing their deep connection, allowed her to enter. Once inside, she sat down on the floor, lifting the young boy’s head onto her lap, gently stroking his soft hair.

Poor little one, burdened with such heavy karma, she regretted not being able to alter the fate that had been set by higher powers.

Her light brown eyes were filled with compassion. Something told her she was deeply connected to this child.

Even now, when our destinies no longer intertwine, the care and concern still linger in my heart.

“If you can return, may it be safely, but if you breathe your last, I will embrace your spirit myself.”

  Khem heard a voice that seemed familiar, gentle like a whisper, too faint to catch clearly, but the warmth enveloping his body and heart made him slowly open his eyes to see that he was lying at the dock of an old Thai house from four hundred years ago.

The scene in front of him gradually became clearer. Khem’s eyes saw the bare, pale, lifeless feet of many people. He swallowed hard, his hands trembling as he clasped them tightly, then slowly stood up to face what he had been escaping his whole life.

Before Khem stood the male descendants of his mother’s family, all of whom had died young, dressed in their last worn outfits, their bodies standing stiffly, their eyes vacant of spirit, devoid of any warmth or emotion.

A chill ran down Khem’s back when he sensed someone standing behind him.

“Look at them closely, do you recognize who they are?”

  Khem couldn’t move, only able to watch as a pale, pointing finger extended over his shoulder, compelling his gaze to follow.

The faces of people from the past superimposed over each of these figures, revealing another truth to Khem.

Indeed, all the descendants who had passed away were once part of that fateful event.

From Phraya Worasingh, who was the root cause of all events, to Lord

Phakdiwijitra, who was so enamored with power that he forgot virtue,

There were also the three legitimate sons of Lord Phakdiwijitra. Not to mention the seven close male relatives who stood by watching with indifference, without even a shred of compassion.

And it included all the servants in Phraya Worasingh’s household who had a hand in tormenting Madam-Ramphueng during her stay, sometimes nearly costing her her life, those who slandered her, and the servant who beat her to death.

Everyone had reincarnated into the same lineage to atone for what they did to Madam-Ramphueng according to the curse.

Now, only Khem remained alive.

“Do you remember now? You know well what you’ve done to me. Why did you think you could be the only one to escape?” Khem felt two icy hands slowly move to his throat and begin to squeeze.

Tears flowed from Khem’s eyes out of fear, and he swallowed hard before speaking with a trembling voice,

“That day…I and my mother, we didn’t…mean to.” Khem had to lie because

Lady Keskaew had threatened that if they did not comply, MaeYing Kaknang’s entire maiden family would suffer. Neither Khem nor his mother could defy her orders.

But the response he got was a scream filled with hatred that pierced his ears. Madam-Ramphueng’s form appeared before him, consumed with anger, before she lunged forward and gripped Khem’s throat with immense force.

“Liar!”

  “…”

“Whether you and your mother intended it or not, in the end…my child and I had to die in agony! Do you think such a reason will make me spare you?

You’re dreaming!”

  Khem gasped for air, his hands tightly gripping the pale wrists, struggling and resisting with all his might.

“The only way you all can atone for what you did to me and my child is through death, and only then will justice be served!!”

  Khem slowly slumped to the floor, death drawing near with every breath.

In his final moments, Khem’s mind was flooded with countless memories of his life, both good and bad.

Though his life had been difficult, Khem was happy. He was glad to have been born as his parents’ son, to have chased his dreams even if he hadn’t reached the end, to have had wonderful friends like Jett and Chan, to have joined volunteer camps, and learned how to interact with others.

He had met Grandma Si and everyone in the village.

Ultimately, Khem was overjoyed to have met the master again…

Khem closed his eyes, weary and in despair, his heart silently repeating apologies with all his might.

“Sorry for being weak, I am…sorry…for only being able to struggle this far.” Now, Pharan understood some truths.

In truth, four hundred years ago, he was a significant military leader in

Phetchaburi, leading soldiers in battles to protect the nation. Even though it was his duty, he had killed many on the battlefield.

And the battlefield, or the place where the bloody events occurred, was this very dry forest.

According to principles, attracting such a multitude of malevolent spirits would not be due to the hatred of one ghost alone. Instead, everything that happened was interconnected karma, directly or indirectly.

Hundreds of thousands of magic knives created by Pharan flew through the air like a flock of birds, attacking and destroying the evil spirits under the command of his strong spirit, preventing them from climbing up this cliff.

However, some spirits managed to slip through. A black, ghostly figure resembling a soldier from centuries ago, moving with two arms and one leg, charged towards Khem, who was being held by the deity.

Before it could reach him, two child-like spirits, no older than twelve, appeared in front, blocking its path. Each used one of their feet to push against the ghost’s shoulders, stopping its malicious intent.

And before it could do more, several golden magic knives stabbed into its back, and in a blink, it vanished as if it had never existed.

Pharan could sense the spirits of Ekk and Thong, and then his ears heard the voice of an old woman not far away.

Sri Sri, the voice of comfort, come forth, my spirit…

  Feeling the warmth he had missed so much, but the pain made it impossible to open his eyes, tears mixed with blood streamed down his cheeks. Pharan’s body, if not for the support of the great Naga king, would have lost consciousness long ago. Now it surged with immense strength. In the sky, nine concentric circles of knives formed before golden knives rained down again, causing agony to the malevolent spirits once more, and again.

Due to pushing beyond human limits, the agony in Pharan’s chest caused him to cough up a large amount of red blood.

Even though it was now midnight, there was no sign that the ordeal would end easily.

This was because the time of Khem’s birth was not now.

In the last gasp of Khem’s breath, Luang Pu Kasem’s voice suddenly rang out behind Madam-Ramphueng.

“That’s enough, layperson.”

Madam-Ramphueng paused, her grip loosening in surprise, not expecting anyone to enter this dimension. Even someone like Pharan, who had accumulated merit over many lifetimes, could not do so.

Moreover, to enter, one must have had a past connection, creating karma with her, and if that person was a man, they would have all died at 20 years old and become her servants. So, who was this person?

With this question in her mind, Madam-Ramphueng slowly released Khem to fall onto the floor, then turned to face the speaker.

Before her stood an elderly monk. Madam-Ramphueng tilted her head left then right, her white eyes with shrunken pupils staring at this monk with bewilderment.

“How is it that you can enter here?”

  “…”

“Regardless, this matter does not involve you. Please leave while I am still speaking kindly.”

  “The root of all these evils involves only one man and one woman. One has long died by your own hand, and the other is still atoning for their sins in hell, unable to be reborn. Is that not enough for you?”

Upon hearing this, Madam-Ramphueng lunged forward to stand just an arm’s length from Luang Pu Kasem, her eyes filled with resentment as she looked at him, the pain of her memories driving her nearly mad.

“They all must pay with their lives!”

  “…”

“If they don’t want to die, then they must return my child to me. Only then will I be satisfied!” Madam-Ramphueng knew she was saying something impossible, as her child had already died.

Died right before her eyes.

Luang Pu Kesem did not take offense at Madam-Ramphueng’s harsh words. His eyes, clouded with cataracts, softened with compassion before he spoke:

  “If you desire that, I will offer this child’s life in alms, in exchange for my own.”

  Madam-Ramphueng tilted her head, looking confused at Luang Pu Kesem, wondering why he would offer such a proposal to her, and why she should agree to this exchange. But before she could say more, she was plunged into memories conveyed through the gaze of the monk before her.

  From the day he first opened his eyes to the world, until he was six years old, Luang Pu Kesem knew he possessed the sixth sense, allowing him to see things he shouldn’t, like spirits. Haunted by ghosts from a young age, he developed a desire to eradicate these malevolent spirits from the world, disregarding the law of karma. Then, he met a man named Sek, who had similar abilities.

  The two became inseparable friends from their teenage years, pledging to keep their ability to see ghosts a secret and to live like ordinary children.

  They grew up together in vocational school, both good-looking and multitalented, becoming the object of affection for many girls. But as with any coin having two sides, where there were admirers, there were also those driven by envy, leading to conflicts with others.

  The situation escalated until a critical moment when Luang Pu Kesem, as a young man, was shot in the back by rivals and nearly died. This forced both to resort to occult practices to protect themselves.

However, these practices, if used correctly, could benefit, but if misused, could bring great harm. One day, due to their feuds with their rivals, Luang Pu Kesem’s family suffered a calamity, resulting in the accidental death of his younger brother.

  For Luang Pu Kesem, there were only two paths at that time: one was to delve deeper into black magic to seek revenge, and the other was to break this cycle of evil by ordaining as a monk for life to calm his own mind, otherwise, he would never find peace.

  At that time, Luang Pu Kasem chose to ordain as a monk, having calmed his mind, let go of attachments, ceased creating negative karma, and strived to perform good deeds. After ordaining and adhering to the Buddha’s teachings for over fifteen years, he began to see visions of his past lives.

  In one life, he was born as a fish in a lotus pond, in another as a heron, and in the third life as a human.

  Madam-Ramphueng’s eyes widened, tears streaming down her cheeks when she realized that in the life before Luang Pu Kasem was born as a human, he lived only for a short time before being thrown into the river by someone.

  At this very location.

  Madam-Ramphueng took trembling steps backward to look at Luang Pu Kasem’s form more clearly, meeting his compassionate gaze.

  What she saw was not a fabricated vision; everything was undoubtedly true.

That was why this monk could enter her dimension.

“Ugh, huh, my child.” Madam-Ramphueng collapsed onto the wooden dock, her strength gone, then crawled forward to prostrate herself at Luang Pu Kasem’s feet, crying out in a wail that seemed to tear at her soul.

She had been consumed by bitterness and resentment for centuries, with no way to rectify her feelings. No matter how many she killed, it could never replace the loss of her son.

  In her life as a servant, she endured suffering worse than a living death. No one loved her, no one wanted her, and she never truly owned anything.

  The one thing most valuable to her was her child.

  Raising her child to grow up as happily as possible was what she yearned for until her last breath.

  And now she had seen it.

  Luang Pu Kasem, seeing that Madam-Ramphueng was softening, continued to speak:

“Do not create more enmity or karma. Let go of what you hold, and allow me to escort you.” Madam-Ramphueng slowly lifted her head and then turned to look at Khem, who was kneeling behind her, crying inconsolably just like her.

As her anger that had once clouded her vision began to fade, she realized that half of this child, in a past life, had helped her numerous times. Her heart, once filled with resentment, now returned to emptiness with a sense of resignation.

She herself was tired after all these years. Having received what she always wanted, she could finally let go.

Now, she only wished to spend a little more time with her child, to have a brief conversation, which would be enough. She clasped her hands in prayer and said to Luang Pu Kesem:

“Very well.”

  “Then, please rise.” Upon hearing this, Madam-Ramphueng slowly stood up, and as they began to walk away, Luang Pu Kesem spoke to Khem, who was still in a prayerful pose, with compassionate understanding:

“Khem, do not think too much.”

“…” Khem clenched his lips tightly as tears began to flow once more.

“Everything was predetermined. We have no debts left between us. Hurry back now.”

As if those few words from Luang Pu Kesem had unlocked Khem’s heart, he sobbed with relief before bowing in gratitude to the monk.

Madam-Ramphueng followed the monk in his yellow robes with a heart now full of joy. The vision she saw was of a little boy in traditional Thai attire, holding her hand as they walked towards a bright path, accompanied by the sound of a single ankle bracelet’s bell ringing, soothing her soul.

Thus, the centuries-long resentment and suffering of Madam-Ramphueng came to an end.

…

At five forty-five in the morning, the gentle yellow light gradually bathed the vast sky.

Khem slowly opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the lifeless form of Luang Pu Kesem in meditation, his face serene and free from worry.

Khem gradually stood up from the ground. His body was still warm, not feeling cold, and there were no insect bites as there might have been, except for the exhaustion that felt like he had slept for many decades. He felt no pain anywhere else.

Khem started looking around but couldn’t see any sign of master, so he quickly bowed to Luang Pu Kasem, stood up, and half-walked, half-ran along the path master had taken the previous night.

His heart was pounding painfully in his chest, but it began to slow down when he saw the master walking back towards him.

Behind the master, the sun was rising over the mountaintop, its rays shining through the master’s broad back, blurring Khem’s vision. Tears of joy streamed down Khem’s cheeks.

Pharan, carrying a box, walked straight towards Khem, while Khem, running until his legs gave out, forced himself to stand and run to him.

At the same time, Pharan set the box down on the ground to catch the smaller figure rushing towards him and embraced him tightly.

Khem sobbed, his body trembling, returning the tight hug, seeing the blood stains on Pharan’s face.

“Master, does it…hurt a lot?”

Pharan’s head gently rested on Khem’s shoulder, shaking slightly to dismiss the question. The only feeling in his heart was the overwhelming joy of seeing that Khem was still breathing.

At this moment, the pain prevented him from speaking, so he could only tighten his embrace a bit more.

6:06 AM on June 6th

  Khemjira had safely passed his 20th birthday and escaped the curse.

  

  KHEMJIRA CHAPTERS HOME

KHEMJIRA, Chapter 36:

  One night had passed, leading into the late hours of another day.

Pharan still sat upright on the meditation seat, facing a large candle that was close to burning out, with Khem watching from not far away to ensure the candle didn’t extinguish too soon.

Sweat beaded down from Pharan’s forehead in a steady stream, soaking his entire body, as the effort to locate Luang Pu Kasem was proving to be incredibly difficult.

Pharan’s concentration was heavily disturbed by numerous spirits in the forest who seemed intent on preventing him from finding Luang Pu Kasem, as if they were trying to buy time for Madam-Ramphueng, who had followed his two disciples.

The sounds of screams, laughter, and curses filled his ears, and through his spiritual vision, he saw hordes of forest spirits emerging from the ground from all directions, crawling towards this meditation area but unable to breach the golden barrier of sacred script, only able to moan with hunger.

Eight spiritual senses were extended far and wide without relent, racing against the scant time remaining. His blood boiled with the intensity of his effort, and the pain from a still-healing curse worsened with each passing moment.

Khem sat behind, hands clasped in prayer, tears falling as he felt the agony Pharan was enduring. He closed his eyes, imploring the sacred entities for mercy and compassion, to help them overcome this ordeal and end these dreadful events once and for all.

The next moment, a strong gust of wind blew through the gaps in the wooden house, hitting their bodies, and the candle flame suddenly went out as Pharan opened his eyes.

He found him.

After navigating through the eternal past, Jett awoke to find himself being given CPR by a man in rescue gear, trying to revive him after he had stopped breathing for nearly two minutes, near the site of the incident.

Jett coughed out a large amount of water, taking deep breaths and coughing several times.

“He’s awake over here! How are you, Phii?” That was the question from the man in front of Jett. The surrounding voices were chaotic with panic. Jett nodded once before turning to look beside him, finding that Chan was still unconscious and being given CPR.

Jett’s eyes widened, fear rushing into his heart in that moment. Despite his fatigued body, he was suddenly spurred into action, crawling off the makeshift bed to stop beside Chan.

“Chan! Can you hear me? Don’t die on me, wake up quickly!” Jett shouted in panic, shaking the other man’s arm, hoping for him to wake up and scold him as he always did when woken up. He didn’t care who tried to comfort or stop him.

However, there was no response; Chan remained still.

Jett pressed his forehead against Chan’s arm, tears flowing unexpectedly, pleading.

“You saw it too, didn’t you? Our past.”

“…”

“Please, wake up and stay with me, don’t leave me like this.”

Time passed, and despair seemed to creep in. Jett didn’t want to look up and face the harsh reality, so he could only cry, but then, someone gently stroked his still damp hair.

“Jett…why are you crying?” Chan asked hoarsely. Jett quickly lifted his head to lock eyes with him, then burst into happy tears.

“Ugh, sob, Chan.”

Chan raised his hand to wipe away Jett’s tears, then softly responded,

“In this life, let’s start anew, shall we?”

Jett, overwhelmed with mixed emotions, didn’t think about the future, only filled with fear of losing him, but he nodded several times in agreement.

The sun was about to rise. Time was of the essence, so both Jett and Chan declined a hospital check-up, determined to continue their journey immediately, disregarding their car which was still submerged in the river, waiting to be recovered.

But before they could ask the rescue team or the police for a ride, a sternlooking man approached them directly.

“Kids, I’m the truck driver who caused the accident by swerving into your lane.

Could I have a quick word? Are you in a rush to go somewhere?” Jett and Chan, wrapped in large towels, immediately exchanged glances, then turned back to nod at the man who had approached them.

Yes, they were in a hurry, and they knew well that the accident wasn’t just a coincidence, but it seemed like what this man wanted to say was important. So, they were willing to listen.

“Sure, go ahead, Uncle. What happened earlier?” Jett responded.

“My name is Boonrit, but you can just call me Uncle Boon. I need to sincerely apologize for what happened; I’m glad you both made it out like this.” Uncle Boon spoke with a mix of stress and relief, also giving a wai, which prompted Jett and Chan to return the gesture.

“It’s okay, Uncle. We know you didn’t do it on purpose.” Jett replied, causing Uncle Boon to exhale deeply.

“You might not believe this, but just before the bridge, I saw a woman in ancient Thai attire, like those from the servant class long ago, standing in the middle of the road and pointing at me. Suddenly, I couldn’t control the steering wheel, and that’s why my truck veered into yours.” Both Jett and Chan inhaled sharply, thinking it was surely the work of Madam-Ramphueng’s spirit.

“Actually, we should apologize to you because that spirit was following us.”   Uncle Boon went silent as if he forgot to breathe, then quickly nodded.

“She’s a very powerful spirit; even though I’ve encountered many and am somewhat used to it, I still felt fear. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like this.”

Jett and Chan nodded in acknowledgment. Uncle Boon, looking at the two young men, sensed something about them – they were practitioners of the arcane arts just like him. Moreover, the scent of magic that clung to them reminded him of someone he had known long ago.

Feeling a sense of compassion and pity, he removed the amulet necklace he was wearing and handed it to Jett.

“I don’t know what kind of trouble or what you’re facing, but since we’ve met, consider it fate. Take this necklace; it might help a little, because what you have with you right now isn’t enough.”

Jett and Chan swallowed hard, looking down at the ordinary-looking amulet necklace that now felt warm with its mystical power, evoking a sense of deep gratitude.

“Is it really okay for us to have this?”

“Of course, I don’t have any children, and I’ve been thinking about giving it to someone. Just take it.” Jett nodded, clasped his hands together, and raised the amulet above his head, saying ‘Sadhu’ just like Chan.

“Thank you, Uncle. If we make it through this, I’ll find you and repay you later.” Uncle Boon nodded with a smile, gently patting Jett and Chan on the shoulder.

“I’ll just accept your thanks. As for finding me, if fate allows it, we’ll meet again someday. You guys hurry along, I’ll handle things here.” Jett and Chan bowed in gratitude to Uncle Boon once more, spoke briefly to the police about not holding Uncle Boon responsible and asked them to take them to a certain place, which was the temple where Khem’s father, or Pinto, was the abbot.

Fortunately, the temple was only about ten kilometers from the accident site. Soon, the police car drove Jett and Chan there, and by now, the position of the sun indicated it was about eight in the morning.

The two jumped off the back of the truck together, thanked the police for bringing them, and then hurriedly entered the temple grounds. Seeing a monk sweeping leaves under a large Bodhi tree, we rushed over, clasped our hands in prayer, and greeted him.

“Paying respects, Abbot.” The abbot stopped sweeping and turned towards us immediately.

“Blessings upon you, laymen. What brings you here? You seem quite agitated.” The abbot asked.

“We are looking for Abbot Pinto. Do you know if he’s here?” Jett replied, and the abbot nodded.

“The monk you’re looking for is me.”

Jett and Chan almost jumped to hug each other. After explaining the events to the abbot, they could see clear concern in his eyes.

In his role as a monk, Pinto had renounced worldly attachments, so he couldn’t directly intervene to help his son, Khem, much, except to pray for his safety every day.

Luckily, Khem had met good friends like these two young men.

“We are looking for something that seems to be a family heirloom of Khem’s family, something very old, like jewelry.” Chan said with a calm face, his voice showing confidence in the matter, even though no one knew exactly what this item was or if it was indeed jewelry as Chan had said.

Jett wanted to ask how he knew, but he kept silent and just nodded, thinking he’d inquire about the reasons later. What he knew for sure was that Chan wouldn’t speak with certainty unless he was confident in his thoughts.

The monk paused to consider Chan’s words before responding,

“Actually, there’s something that Khem’s mother received from her sister, an old wooden box. Please wait at the temple pavilion; I will fetch that item for you.”

Phra Pinto returned to his kuti, opened the wooden cabinet, and took out a darkcolored wooden box that had been stored deep inside, wiped off the dust, and carried it over to Jett and Chan at the temple pavilion.

Once he placed it before them, he said,

“This is the only heirloom that Khem’s aunt left for him. I intended to give it to Khem after he finished his studies. Once, she told me that it was passed down through the family to a daughter or niece, whomever it was decided to be given to, but there’s a rule that it must never be sold or destroyed.”

Jett and Chan glanced at each other before Jett asked,

“Can we open it, Luang Por?” Phra Pinto thought for a moment before answering,

“I’ve never opened it myself, but I believe there should be no harm. Go ahead and open it.” With permission, Jett immediately lifted the lid of the wooden box to find it filled with various small pieces of jewelry, all looking very old, including rings, necklaces, bracelets, and earrings.

Chan pondered for a while before his hand reached in and picked up something for all to see.

“This is it.”

What he picked up looked like an infant’s ankle bracelet made from snake skin, adorned with tiny bells that jingled when shaken.

“Are you sure?” Jett asked with a furrowed brow, to which Chan nodded. He couldn’t explain why; it was all guided by intuition. To put it simply, his ‘sense’ told him so.

“If that’s the case, could Luang Por help us destroy it?” Phra Pinto took it in his hand, but after holding it for only a moment, he returned it and shook his head.

“This item has an owner; I can’t destroy it. You must return it to its rightful owner.”

At the end of the sentence, Jett froze halfway. He intended to say something, but

Chan held his wrist to stop him. Seeing this, the abbot continued,

“Don’t be afraid. If you’ve never been involved with it, it can’t harm you, except perhaps delay you. So far, aside from the male descendants who have died due to this curse, no innocent person has ever been harmed by it to the point of death.”

“…”

“So, wait a bit longer before you set out, and everything will be fine.”

At thirty minutes past midnight, a helicopter appeared in the sky above the residence of the master and Khem, its rotor blades creating a loud, thunderous noise and a strong wind. It slowly descended to land on a wide space surrounded by candles that flickered but miraculously did not go out.

This helicopter had been arranged by Khachen, following a call from Pharan about twenty minutes earlier.

A man in a forestry department uniform stepped out of the helicopter to invite the two people waiting to board the passenger seats. After ensuring safety, he slowly took the helicopter back into the sky.

“Which way should I go?” The officer asked, receiving an answer from Pharan:

“East, keep flying straight. Please maintain your focus, and don’t mind anything unusual you might see.” The officer nodded.

“Yes.”

No sooner had he finished speaking, the officer’s eyes widened as the landscape ahead showed shadowy figures, tall and stretching to the sky, dozens of them, approaching. His ears picked up sounds like ship horns blaring, a noise he had never encountered before, followed by chanting from those seated behind him. “What would happen if we fly into them?” The officer asked. He believed in spirits because he had spent half his life in the forest, but he had never been harmed by such entities before. However, what he was seeing now felt different from his previous encounters.

“You’d be in trouble.” came the short reply.

The officer swallowed hard and steered the helicopter away from the figures. Several times, he had to dodge massive hands reaching out, swerving left and right until he began to feel dizzy, with cold sweat beading and dripping from his forehead to his chin.

That’s why Khachen needed the most experienced and composed helicopter pilot among all the officers, knowing they might encounter such thrilling events, and the high compensation made the risk worth taking. Otherwise, he surely wouldn’t have agreed to come.

Apart from the hordes of hungry ghosts that appeared, the black waves of forest spirits also chased after them. They merged together like a giant wave, climbing over one another in an attempt to drag the helicopter down. Some manifested as dark, swirling clouds, darting around to distract, but they couldn’t cause any real harm, especially with Pharan standing by the open door, constantly chanting protective incantations, forming a barrier of glass-like energy that shielded them.

The helicopter flew at high speed, racing against time, while the pilot had to be vigilant in all directions, holding his breath several times from the stress and pressure. He had never imagined encountering such bizarre and life-threatening phenomena before. Even encountering a tiger in the forest wouldn’t have frightened him as much as this did.

And then, the journey came to an end when the tall figure behind said,

“We’re here.” Hearing this, the officer quickly wiped the sweat from his eyes. There was a cliff behind where they could land, so he immediately maneuvered the helicopter to touch down.

Branches from the surrounding trees swayed in the wind as the helicopter landed. Before disembarking, Pharan handed a black Buddha amulet to the officer, who quickly clasped his hands in a wai and accepted it with both hands.

“Keep this with you; it will keep you safe. Thank you for the ride.”

After saying this, Pharan woke Khem, who had fallen asleep. He had wanted to wake him earlier when he sensed Khem’s soul being drawn away, but the need to defend against the forest spirits had kept him focused. Fortunately, Khem hadn’t gone far, and it didn’t take long for him to wake up after Pharan called out.

Khem jolted awake with a fearful expression, as his consciousness had returned to that Thai house again.

“Master, I…” Pharan nodded to indicate he already knew, while gently patting Khem’s head to comfort him.

“You’ll be fine, come on.”

At around five in the evening, after the helicopter had left, Pharan took Khem’s hand and walked into the forest. He carried his black toolbox in the other hand, using the moonlight and the glow of fireflies that appeared around them, neither too close nor too far. Within ten minutes of walking deeper into the woods, they found the person they were looking for.

Luang Pu Kesem was meditating under a kapok tree, his posture serene and filled with spiritual power, surrounded by fireflies that provided light.

Pharan tapped Khem’s back gently as a signal to follow, then they stopped at a respectful distance and bowed three times in reverence.

Luang Pu Kesem slowly opened his eyes, which were slightly clouded with cataracts from old age, yet they shone with compassion for all beings seeking help.

Especially for the two young men before him.

“I was waiting.” Luang Pu Kesem said meaningfully, indicating that he knew Pharan would come, which is why he was waiting not far from where the helicopter had landed.

“Paying respects, Luang Pu.” Pharan said, and Luang Pu Kesem nodded slightly.

“Blessings upon you, layman.” Pharan was silent for a moment before continuing with what he was seeking.

“Luang Pu, do you still have Grandpa Sek’s magic knife?”

“The magic knife of Sek, forged with dark sorcery techniques, though it holds great power, a white magic practitioner like you touching it might mean there’s no turning back. Sek was afraid of this, which is why he left it with me.”

Pharan knew this well. Grandpa Sek and Luang Pu Kesem were close friends, both having studied black magic in their past. However, Luang Pu Kesem chose the path of purity by becoming a monk, whereas Grandpa Sek continued on his own dark path.

Until his final, torturous moments, he realized he had chosen the wrong path all along.

Khem, listening intently, turned to look at the master’s profile upon hearing this.   Did this mean that this object could taint someone as pure as the master?

Khem reached out his hand to grab the master’s sleeve, his eyes moistening with tears, showing his reluctance. He shook his head, and a single tear fell, rolling down his cheek.

“Master, please, don’t go to such lengths.”

“…” Khem inhaled shakily before lowering his head to speak.

“My karma, I should atone for it myself.”

“…”

“Please, don’t suffer because of me.”

If Pharan helping Khem meant enduring future suffering, Khem knew he could never accept that.

“What do you want then, do you still want this?”

Khem hoped Master would listen and refuse, but instead, Pharan knelt down on the ground, staying still without looking up, and spoke to Luang Pu,

“Please help me one more time.”

Khem’s tears fell again, unable to deny how much he still wanted to live to see more of this world.

He wanted to spend his life following Pharan and his friends, to repay the kindness of Luang Por who had guided him, to wake up and make merit for his mother, Grandma-Si, and for Thong and Ekk who had sacrificed themselves for Khem’s safety.

Khem did not want to die…not before seeing everyone live happily.

Khem sobbed until he was shaking, then stepped back and slowly knelt beside Pharan. This kindness, even if the heavens and earth were to crumble, could never be fully repaid.

Luang Pu Kasem was truly a man who had renounced worldly desires, dedicating himself to spiritual practice and accumulating merit for a long time, understanding the truths of life profoundly, thus seeing things that ordinary people could not, though he could not share these visions.

“Raise your head. I believe everything will turn out well. Come, take this.”

Luang Pu Kasem spoke while pulling out a dagger wrapped tightly with redlettered sacred cloth from a bag by his side and handed it over.

Khem clenched his teeth tightly, watching as Pharan moved forward on his knees to accept and hold the dagger.

“Those creatures are close to breaking through the glass wall. Go do what you must with the magic knife; if used with a strong and pure heart, it won’t turn back to harm you.” Pharan listened intently to the sounds of the spirits outside Luang Pu Kesem’s protective dome before turning to meet Khem’s gaze, who seemed to be weighing something in his mind.

Until he heard Luang Pu say:

“Leave Khem here. For this karmic debt, I will handle it myself.”

This was far beyond what both Pharan and Khem expected, but since the abbot had spoken thus, there must be a reason, so they bowed in gratitude without questioning further.

Khem looked up at the master once more, his eyes still hot with emotion, but before he could say anything, the master’s hand gently patted his head, and in a gentle voice, he said,

“Wait here, I’ll be back.” Tears flowed from Khem, understanding the true meaning behind those words, he nodded once more, firmly.

“Okay, I’ll wait.”

 

KHEMJIRA CHAPTERS HOME

KHEMJIRA, Chapter 35:

  At almost one in the morning, the four of them parted ways at the base of the apartment building. Jett drove off in his personal car with Chan, heading straight to Kanchanaburi, Khem’s hometown.

Once Jett and Chan’s car was out of sight, the master, standing beside Khem with a black toolbox in hand, quickly pulled out an old-style flip phone and dialed someone. The name that came out of the master’s mouth was one Khem had never heard before.

“Khachen, come pick me up.” The master said before his fine eyebrows furrowed together, his dark eyes glancing briefly at Khem who was watching with wide eyes, then he looked away and responded.

“…”

“I can’t wait.”

Khem whispered, feeling guilty for causing trouble for others again. His face turned red as a loud moan of a man and woman came through the phone.

“…”

“Is it that hard to just put it in your pants?”

“…”

“Apartment…in the alley…”

“…”

“Okay.” Khem didn’t know what the other person replied, but it was enough to make the master agree and hang up the call.

Pharan put the phone back into his pants pocket as before, then reached out to take one of Khem’s hands, which was tightly gripping the other, showing signs of stress and guilt.

“It’s my friend; this is nothing I can’t handle.” Said Pharan with a deep voice as Khem looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. Hearing this and feeling the priest’s hand holding his for the first time, a warm feeling surged in Khem’s chest.

Khem smiled with gratitude and nodded in acceptance.

“Yes, Master.”

They didn’t have to wait long before a luxury two-seater sports car pulled up alongside the sidewalk in front of Khem and the master. The driver’s side window slowly rolled down, revealing the handsome face of the car’s owner leaning down.

The man had dark hair, a tall, slender build, wearing a slightly disheveled longsleeved brown shirt. His gray-blue eyes sparkled with a gentle, almost teasing curve as he made eye contact with Pharan, accompanied by a faint smile that seemed to beckon anyone who looked at it to fall in love.

Khem quickly averted his eyes, feeling like a small mouse being watched by a lion. He raised his hands to greet him, but before he could say anything, he was startled by the sound of Pharan tapping on the car’s roof.

Ping!

“Why did you bring this car?” Pharan asked, frowning. Khachen blinked innocently at the question.

“You didn’t tell me how many people were coming.” He replied. Pharan felt the urge to open the door and kick him out, but Khachen had always been an irritant to him, even though they hadn’t seen each other in nearly three years.

This expensive car was seldom driven out by Khachen from his garage for others to see, and Pharan knew well that Khachen had intentionally brought it to annoy him.

Pharan didn’t like supercars, nor did he appreciate overly expensive things. Though he never explicitly expressed this, their long-standing friendship from school days made it easy for Khachen to guess.

But he could swear, Khachen had no idea that his best friend was bringing along this cute-looking young man.

“Or do you want me to go change the car?”

Pharan checked his wristwatch, then shook his head. Waiting longer would be too late. He opened the door, placed his box on the back seat floor where there was still some space, sat down, and then turned to tell the still-dazed Khem,

“Get in.” Khem looked around inside the car with confusion, not noticing the facial expression of the driver who was looking out the window, before asking hesitantly,

“Uh, where exactly?” The response he received was the master spreading his legs slightly to make space, pointing to that area and saying,

“Right here.” Khem suppressed the heat on his face and his embarrassment, taking a deep breath to gather his wits, because now was not the time for such frivolous thoughts. He then slowly maneuvered his body into the car, almost hitting his head on the top of the door frame. Fortunately, the master’s hand cushioned the impact.

“Thank you.” Khem said in a voice quieter than a whisper as the master’s strong hand helped him sit properly. Even though there were only two seats, the interior was spacious enough to not feel cramped.

The master’s body was very warm, Khem realized that day.

The car started moving when the door was closed and the driver knew the destination.

After sitting for a while, Khem suddenly felt he was being watched by the person next to him. He turned to meet the other’s gaze, only to receive a teasing, caring smile in return.

But before he could blush, the master’s thick hand lifted to cover his face and turned him to face the window instead.

“Sleep.” The master simply said, and Khem’s bright eyes soon grew heavy and closed.

“I wouldn’t believe it until I see it with my own eyes.” Khachen’s voice broke the silence, his eyes still sparkling with teasing that he didn’t bother to hide, but Pharan, who was resting his eyes, didn’t respond.

Khachen was used to Pharan’s temperament, having known him since vocational school days, and it had always been like this. While others might see Pharan as frightening and dangerous, he appreciated that side of him.

“Don’t forget what you promised me, I’m missing your dear disciple badly.”

Khachen continued talking alone until he got a slightly irritated response from Pharan, which finally made him stop talking and focus on driving.

Who would have thought that someone like Khachen would be forbidden by his close friend from stepping into the village or contacting a disciple like Jett since he was seventeen, due to an incident in high school where he almost led him astray?

Really, it wasn’t that serious. He just helped one kid see the world a bit, that’s all…

After nearly two hours, it was past three in the morning when the luxury sports car drove through the desolate road to the base of a mountain in Phetchaburi province, surrounded by forests on both sides.

Khachen didn’t feel the need to ask why Pharan had instructed him to drop them off here. If Pharan wanted him to know, he would have explained from the start. If he was still silent upon arrival, it meant he preferred to keep it undisclosed. So, he simply said,

“Give me a call if you need anything.”

“Thanks.” Pharan replied. Khem, who had been leaning against Pharan, stirred slightly and opened his eyes upon hearing a quiet whisper by his ear,

“We’re here.” Khem nodded quickly, turned to thank Khachen with a wai, and then got out of the car to stand outside.

Pharan reached back to grab the box, turned to Khachen, and said as a final note,

“Keep the amulet around your neck until Sunday. On your way back, stop at the nearest hotel to rest, and come back tomorrow morning.”

Khachen immediately nodded in agreement.

How could he not comply when they had just been chased by a horde of spirits…

  Once Khachen drove off, Pharan led Khem to the side of the road where a large ‘Phayom’ tree stood, with a wooden sign indicating it was a meditation site, complete with stairs leading upwards.

Judging from the look of things, it didn’t seem like many people visited often.

Soon, they reached an open area surrounded by five small, partly old, partly new two-story wooden houses that resembled monks’ quarters, but there was no one there at the moment.

“Why are we here?” Khem looked up and asked the person beside him. Pharan took Khem’s hand and led him to one of the houses, opened the door, and then answered,

“I’m looking for the monk, a close friend of my grandfather, because there’s something I need from him. But he’s been on a pilgrimage for years, and we haven’t been in contact. According to Jett and Chan, this was the last known location of him from his disciples.” The door closed, and Pharan moved towards the corner of the room in the dark, still explaining to Khem.

“What he has might be the last thing that can help us, so I need to find him before tomorrow night.” As he finished speaking, the lantern in the room suddenly lit up, revealing a well-cleaned interior with basic amenities like kitchen items, dried food, and neatly folded beddings.

“I’ve already had someone prepare things. Now you rest and regain your strength. You can cook in the morning.” The master said in a deep voice as he handed Khem a lantern to hold.

Khem’s eyes were filled with various emotions swirling within them: respect, gratitude, and deep appreciation, to the point where he didn’t know how to express everything in words.

Khem knelt down, placing the lantern beside him, intending to bow at the master’s feet. However, after just a slight bow, his hands, which were clasped together in respect, were placed into the master’s hands that bent down to catch them in mid-air.

“That’s enough.” Pharan said curtly, and Khem nodded in compliance.

Once Khem stood up and began to set up the bed mosquito net effortlessly,

Pharan walked back to the corner of the room where there was an altar with a Buddha statue. He sat down on a meditation cushion, lit a large candle, then closed his eyes, placing his right hand over his left to meditate.

When everything was calm, he began chanting a mantra to create a luminous golden shield, like a dome, over this area to prevent wandering spirits from intruding. After that, he let his spirit extend in all directions to search for the master as he had intended.

 

  Switching scenes to Jett and Chan:

  This time, it was Chan who was driving, even though he wasn’t very familiar with the route. However, his calm and meticulous nature, combined with an unyielding spirit, made this journey seem safer. Additionally, he brought along a black ebony box.

Previously, when both had an accident and crashed into a tree, they were lucky to have been wearing seatbelts, and the car’s safety features worked effectively, so they weren’t seriously injured. Once they regained consciousness, they got out of the car to call the owner of the vehicle, another disciple of the master.

The other party, upon receiving the call, rushed over immediately. Fortunately, he didn’t hold it against them since he was quite close to Jett, almost like senior and junior disciples. Not only did he handle the car issue himself, but he also helped take both of them to the village as requested, albeit too late…

After that day, Jett lost all confidence in his own driving. He even allowed Chan to drive his precious car, which he didn’t even let his parents or his sister touch.

“Is anything following us, Jett?” Chan asked while focusing on the road, and Jett glanced at the rearview mirror before furrowing his brows in response.

“None. Since we left the apartment, not a single one has followed.”

Weird, this was too strange, Jett didn’t expect their journey with Chan to be this calm and quiet.

Thump!

“Shit!” Jett jolted as something was thrown against the window on his side. Since the car wasn’t moving very fast, and with the occasional streetlights, he could see what it was.

It was a ripe banana with an incense stick still sticking out of it, rotting chicken meat, and some offerings that were clearly not placed there by a human hand.

Jett remembered they had just passed a three-way junction.

Thump!

This time, similar items were thrown towards Chan’s side, but Chan remained unfazed, continuing to drive steadily without any sign of panic.

However, the closer they got to Kanchanaburi, the more intense things became. Not only were offerings being thrown incessantly at the car windows, but stray dogs and cats kept darting in front of the car every five minutes.

“Na-ut, a, tu, wi, ka, lo, to-ka

Su, no, pun, sam, na, ra, ja cha

Wi-chi, tho, put, sam-ma, sam, hang, ra

A, wa-ka, pha, so, pi-ti-i”

The more Jett chanted to ward off spirits, the more it seemed to provoke them, increasing their anger.

Just as they were about to cross a bridge over a river under repair, with wooden barriers placed along the sides to prevent falls, a truck suddenly swerved into their lane from the opposite direction.

At that moment, the bright headlights of the truck blinded both Jett and Chan. Chan made a split-second decision to swerve, crashing through the wooden barriers, sending the car tumbling off the bridge.

Boom!!!!

Water quickly surrounded the car, while the lights were still on. Both unbuckled their seatbelts in haste, used hammers they had to break the car windows, and swam out with difficulty.

Unfortunately, the current was quite strong, but Jett managed to swim to Chan, whose glasses had come off, just in time.

However, now, driving above water wasn’t easy, and both were hesitant and scared.

With their last breaths, their lips met in a sudden kiss.

But then, suddenly, their bodies were pulled back as if yanked, along with a flood of memories.

The faint, dreamlike vision revealed scenes that Jett and Chan had never seen before, stories of three women who were close friends: one named Jintana, another Khemika, and the last one named Chaiada.

  These three were best friends from middle school at an all-girls school, loving, caring, and attentive to each other, especially towards Khemika, who wasn’t very strong, so Jintana and Chaiada always took special care of her.

  However, there was a secret Khemika didn’t know: Jintana and Chaiada were attracted to their same sex and eventually fell in love with each other.

  But because society at that time did not accept such relationships, they had to keep it hidden from everyone, even Khemika, fearing her disappointment or rejection for being different.

  One day, their love was abruptly cut short when their families found out. Jintana was forced to get engaged to a promising young civil servant she didn’t love.

Chaiada was to be sent abroad for further studies right after high school.

  On the day of Jintana’s engagement, it happened to be the same day Chaiada was leaving the country.

  They met secretly at a place known only to them. Jintana was still in her ceremonial dress, while Chaiada was ready to head to the airport.

  They couldn’t say much, only wishing each other a good life.

  They hugged for the last time, kissed for the last time, but still cried every time we remembered their times together.

  There was only one word to remember forever.

  Goodbye, the one person I love with all my heart.

 

KHEMJIRA CHAPTERS HOME

KHEMJIRA, Chapter 34:

  Upon hearing these words, Khem slowly let out a cry, and seeing the master face, hearing those words, his heart ached even more, shaking his head and saying,

“Why [sniff] why do you want me to keep living when you don’t even feel the same way about me, huh?”

“…”

“Master, you told me you didn’t want to be involved, told me to give up on you, didn’t you? Now that it’s come to this, why won’t you let me go?”

“…”

“Until now, I’ve been trying, but now I’m tired, master.”

“…”

“Now, I don’t want to live anymore [sob]”

A multitude of emotions swirling in his chest made Khem express his frustration without fear, because even though he felt happy at the first sight of the master, the more he thought about it, the less he understood why the master would do this.

Why say this now, when he no longer needed it?

  Pharan understood the feelings Khem was going through at that moment, so he slowly lifted the slender body into an embrace.

The cool, familiar scent, the warmth from the body that Khem had longed for all this time, gradually permeated into Khem’s heart.

In the end, he couldn’t resist the overwhelming feelings in his chest, the memories of past lives where they were separated, which gave birth to the desire to hold onto this embrace once more. These thoughts deepened with every moment, making it impossible for him to resist, causing his tightly clenched small hands to gradually relax, and instead, they reached up to grip the shirt of the other in response, though still with a mixture of fear and hesitation.

“Master…”

“Sorry for making you cry.”

“…”

“But there won’t be any more of that after this.”

“…”

“Right now, I can’t say much, except that I want you to trust me.”

“…”

“No matter what happens, I will do everything to make sure we are together again.” Pharan finished, then moved back slightly. He lifted Khem’s chin with his slender fingers so their eyes met, their noses almost touching.

The feeling inside was hard to put into words, but Khem felt warm and safe…

“Okay?” Pharan asked in a whisper.

Khem bit his lip as tears still welled up in his eyes.

“But what about Grandma-Si and…”

Pharan shook his head, not waiting for Khem to finish his sentence, quickly correcting the misunderstanding.

“Grandma-Si passed away due to her age, not because she was killed. Her spirit was just being used by that ghost.” What Pharan saw in his dream was that Grandma-Si had been suffering from a serious illness for a long time. She didn’t tell the villagers because she didn’t want to be a burden, and she knew her time was limited. Before she passed, she made traditional sweets to distribute among the villagers and cleaned her house.

“As for Thong and Ek, they’ve been dead for a long time. I should have let them go when Grandpa died, but I kept them around because I wanted to use them.” Pharan explained.

“…”

“You don’t need to feel sad; just think that they’ve been released to where they should be.”

While saying this, Pharan gently wiped away Khem’s tears.

Khem’s eyes widened in shock at what he heard, as he had always thought Grandma-Si died because of a vengeful spirit due to his actions. He asked with a shaky, uncertain voice,

“Is that really true, Master? Grandma-Si wasn’t really killed?”

Pharan moved his hand to softly wipe away more tears before nodding in affirmation, “Hmm.”

Khem covered his face with both hands and cried out in relief. Although he was saddened by Grandma-Si’s sudden departure without a chance to say goodbye, it was better than thinking he had caused such a good person to suffer a tragic end in her last days as he had mistakenly believed.

As for Ekk and Thong, even though they had moved on to their rightful place, these events would remain etched in Khem’s heart for the rest of his life. If he still had breath, Khem would remember the moments they helped him until the day he died.

But right now, there was something more important that Khem couldn’t overlook, and that was the person right in front of him…

If you say that Ekk and Thong had left since that day, it means that the master has been alone all this time, hasn’t he?

Khem slowly sniffed, wiping his tears to look at the master more closely.

“Are you okay now, master? I remember that day…” Khem swallowed, not daring to meet the calm, steady gaze of the master due to his own trembling.

That day, Khem saw bloodstains on the master’s shirt, as well as drops of blood scattered along the hallway of the house.

Jett had said that the master must have been cursed, which caused the bleeding, and that’s why he was late in helping everyone, leading to the sad incident.

Pharan didn’t want to tell Khem that his body still bore much pain. He simply pressed his forehead against Khem’s smooth, clear forehead, gently transferring warmth.

“I’m fine, just waiting for your answer.”

“…”

“So, do you still want to live on together?” That sentence was like a thick rope dropped into the deep pit of darkness where Khem was, and he didn’t hesitate to grab onto it.

This time, Khem would fight on once more.

One hand still clung tightly to the master’s shirt, Khem answered with a slight nod.

Time seemed to pause momentarily as the master’s gaze focused on Khem’s lips.

The sharp nose brushed past the clear cheek, moving closer to the lips, making Khem’s heart beat faster.

Until…

“Khem, don’t!”

Jett, in a nightmare, shouted and sat up suddenly, startling Khem. Pharan could only let out a soft sigh and move away with an expressionless face as if nothing had happened.

“You go change your clothes, wear something warm. We need to travel tonight.”

“Where are we going, master?”

“You’ll find out soon enough even if I don’t tell you.”

Khem nodded in acknowledgment and went to follow the instructions, opening the wardrobe to grab a long-sleeved shirt and long pants before heading into the bathroom. Once the bathroom door was closed, Pharan released the spell that kept Jett in a deep sleep. He then opened his black box to take out a stainless steel tray, using it to knock hard on Jett’s head, who was still dozing off, causing a loud clang.

Jett woke up with a start from his dream, immediately feeling a sharp pain across his forehead which made him clutch his head in pain.

“Ow, crap, who did that!” Jett quickly turned to see who it was, only to find himself staring in shock at someone he didn’t expect to see here. He even slapped his own face to check if he was dreaming, but the person in front of him didn’t disappear, leaving him almost speechless.

“Ma-Ma-Ma-Master!” Pharan just looked at Jett without saying anything.

“…”

“How did you get here, Master…Shit! Khem!” But seeing his friend lose his composure just because he couldn’t see Khem nearby, Pharan used the tray again to snap Jett back to his senses.

“Ouch, why did you hit me, Master?” Jett asked with a pained voice, rubbing the spot where he was hit.

“Your friend is in the bathroom. How many times have I told you not to lose your mind?”

Because of this, spirits like Madam-Ramphueng could easily approach Khem…

Pharan thought to himself without speaking out loud.

When Jett was reminded of his constant flaw since childhood, he could only give a sheepish smile and quickly raised his hands in a respectful gesture above his head.

“Sorry, Master.”

Pharan just said that and put the tray back into the box, then stood up to his full height and left the room.

Jett, still scratching his head in confusion, knew he had to follow Master’s instructions. He intended to wake Chan, but Chan had already woken up, sitting up and folding his bedding.

“I was so startled I woke up when I heard the tray, I guess.”   Jett, in front of the house, spoke with a red, flushed face.

“Damn, I had been kicking for so long, why hadn’t you gotten up yet!”

“Think that just because I’m awake, you’ll be safe? Stop complaining and go change your clothes.” Chan said calmly before getting up to attend to his own business. Jett gritted his teeth in anger but could do nothing, (again), because Khem had already come out of the bathroom.

“Uh, where did the master go, Jett?” Khem asked while looking around. Jett then pointed upwards.

“Roof. Just wait a moment to change your clothes.”

It didn’t take long for Jett, Khem, and Chan to reach the roof. The sight they saw was the master standing in front of the spirit house. Near the ground, there were two pound hammers lying around. All three of them hurried towards the master without delay.

However, the closer they got, the more they were hit by an unpleasant smell, and they saw the condition of the spirit house, which now looked dark and dilapidated despite being set up just a few days ago.

“Damn, this shrine was just set up two days ago, wasn’t it, master?” Jett exclaimed in shock, not unlike Chan and Khem. Pharan nodded as if to confirm that he knew. He had seen everything in the vision created by Phu Chong.

If he hadn’t come today, the next night would have been when Khem would have fallen backward from here.

“This shrine wasn’t used to invite a deity to reside, or if it was, no one came, so it ended up calling for wandering spirits instead.”

“…”

All three of them, Jett, Khem, and Chan, swallowed hard. Pharan continued to explain what he had seen in the vision.

“Now it’s not a spirit house, but a ghost gate that connects to Madam

Ramphueng’s dimension. You two help to destroy it.”

Jett and Chan knew well who the two people he referred to were, so they stepped forward to pick up the pound hammers that the master had prepared.

With such heavy hammers, if Khem tried to lift one, his bones would likely break.

The wind howled as it passed through, causing Jett and Chan to immediately rush in and start smashing everything in sight. While breaking things, they chanted incantations to increase their strength beyond normal. Soon enough, the shrine was nothing but ruins.

Then, Pharan took out a bottle of holy water from his bag, stepped forward, and poured it over the debris. Black smoke rose, emitting a nauseating stench that made Jett and Chan turn away.

They still had a lot to learn before they could get used to this.

Once the cleansing was done, Pharan turned to Jett and Chan to give them further instructions.

“From now on, we need to split up. You two go back to Khem’s hometown to look for something that’s been passed down through generations. I don’t know what it is, but I believe it’s what’s keeping the family’s vengeful spirit tied to this world. Once you find it, perform a cleansing ritual, then have it burned by the crematorium.” Jett and Chan took a deep breath and nodded in unison.

“And where will you be going, Master?”

“I can’t tell you yet. Once you finish your task, come back here and wait.”

“…”

“Be very careful.” Jett and Chan nodded again. While waiting for the priest to pack up, they discussed the details with Khem about the route to take and who to seek out.

“Jett, Chan, be careful.” Khem said with a trembling voice, his eyes brimming with tears. Seeing this, Jett softened, pulling Khem into a hug and rocking him gently. Chan also patted Khem’s head soothingly.

“This is nothing; for our bright future, I can do this. Don’t worry about everything; it will turn out fine.”

Khem nodded, then turned to hug Chan.

“Please look after Jett, Chan.”

“Khun Khem, don’t worry. Take care of yourself too.” Chan replied softly, and Khem nodded in acknowledgment.

“Uh, thank you.”

If Khem had one wish left, it would be that they could all meet again.

 

KHEMJIRA CHAPTERS HOME

KHEMJIRA, Chapter 33:

  Pharan woke up in the pitch dark, feeling his heart pounding irregularly. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his body was tense all over.

He sat up, gradually relaxing when he realized it was just a dream.

Pharan understood that the dream he had was not an ordinary one; the ancients would call it an omen.

Not only did he see what might happen in the future, but he also saw what had happened to Grandma-Si.

To verify once more, Pharan got out of bed and went to the central area for rituals. He lit a lantern, placed it aside, and took out paper and a pen to write down Grandma-Si’s name, surname, and birth date.

After calculating the numbers, he found that what he saw in his dream was true.

Grandma-Si had run out of merit one day before being possessed by Khem’s karma ghost, which meant she had passed away peacefully due to her lifespan, not murdered as he had thought.

With the truth now known, Pharan put the paper and pen back and softly spoke:

“If you haven’t gone anywhere, please show yourself.”

At that moment, the shadow of someone slowly stepped into the area lit by the lantern’s light, approaching steadily until standing just one meter away from Pharan.

The visitor was a tall man with long hair flowing down to his waist, his upper body bare, wearing only a black traditional Thai loincloth with gold-threaded patterns, the cloth trailing on the ground like a snake’s tail.

A gentle breeze carried the scent of damp earth throughout the area. Pharan knelt, bowing once, then looked up into the amber eyes he had seen not long ago.

“Why have you come to help this time?” Pharan asked the figure known as the forest and mountain spirit.

Phuchong met Pharan’s gaze for a moment before responding in a low, hoarse voice,

“Consider this as repaying the kindness you once showed me in a past life.”

With that statement, certain memories from an ancient lifetime flowed into Pharan’s mind.

A thousand years ago, in a past life, Pharan and Phuchong were born as naga princes of the Kanha-Kotama lineage, blue serpents dwelling in the subterranean realm. They were both nagas tasked with guarding the treasury gates of the underwater city.

Pharan was a naga known for his calm demeanor, deep wisdom, and spiritual prowess through diligent practice. Phuchong, on the other hand, was hot-tempered and arrogant, though naturally gifted with immense abilities.

One day, Phuchong’s son got into a heated argument with a garuda at the human city, leading to a fierce battle where Phuchong’s son was gravely injured.

Fueled by anger, Phuchong stole a powerful weapon with the capacity to destroy entire cities from the treasury without Pharan’s knowledge. He used it against the garuda, causing widespread destruction across the Himavanta land, leading to the death of many deities. When the news reached the ears of Lord

Paranimmitavasavatti Maharaja, the ruler of the highest celestial realm, he called an assembly of the gods to address the incident, including Phuchong, his son, the offending garuda, and Pharan, who was summoned as a key witness.

Both the nagas and garudas defended their own fiercely, leaving no room for compromise. Ultimately, Lord Paranimmitavasavatti Maharaja, the supreme ruler of the Chakammavacara heaven, decided on the highest punishment for Phuchong, his son, and the garuda: the destruction of their spirits, or the divine equivalent of execution. Once the spirit was destroyed, there would be no rebirth, no cycle of existence, a fate worse than death for a divine being who could otherwise be reborn as a human.

When no one would admit fault, obliterating all involved was deemed the just punishment for all parties, as they were all responsible for the severe damages.

Upon hearing the verdict, Pharan pleaded with Lord Paranimmitavasavatti

Maharaja to reconsider the punishment. He confessed that he had suggested Phuchong steal the weapon because of his own deep-seated resentment towards the garudas. He wanted to use Phuchong as an instrument of revenge.

He argued that Phuchong acted out of love for his son; any father seeing his child on the brink of death would naturally feel anger and seek retribution, not with the intent of rebellion.

Therefore, he requested that Lord Pranimmittavasavatti Maharaja, the supreme ruler, punish Phuchong by transforming him into a large black snake to practice penance in the deep forest of the human world, with only a small pool of water to coil around as his abode. He must accumulate merit for five hundred years before he could transform back into a Naga and return to the underworld.

As for himself, Pharan, he asked to die as a Naga and be reborn as a human, destined to struggle and sacrifice for the benefit of many in every life, to atone for the losses incurred this time.

Lord Pranimmittavasavatti Maharaja agreed with Pharan’s words, even though he knew the truth.

Despite being born from a mud pit, Pharan, through his diligent practice, had shone with a golden aura and gained powers equal to that of the highest Nagas in just a few hundred years. How could he be one with a dark heart? All his actions were to protect his friend Phuchong and his son, making him truly virtuous.

With no objections, Lord Pranimmittavasavatti Maharaja altered the punishment for all involved to practice penance in the human world as he saw fit, but only Pharan received this blessing:

“No matter what life, may you be loved by both humans and deities.”

  This sequence of events was why Phuchong reached out to help Pharan now, repaying the favor for when Pharan had once saved his and his son’s lives.

Understanding everything, Pharan bowed again in gratitude. Although they were once equals, that was not the case now.

“I can help you this much. The rest depends on karma. Good luck.” Phuchong said before slowly fading into the darkness. Pharan opened his eyes again and realized he had been meditating, still holding the paper with Grandma-Si’s name, birth date, and surname, understanding that what had just happened was Phuchong’s doing, as he didn’t want to reveal his form as a large black snake.

Afterward, Pharan stood up to his full height, walked into his bedroom, took out a black square bag from atop the wardrobe, filled it with necessities, and locked it shut.

He removed his sleep shirt, placing it in the laundry basket, then put on a longsleeved navy blue shirt from the wardrobe, followed by tailored black slacks, a matching leather belt, black socks, and polished black shoes.

Once dressed properly, he opened the bedside drawer and took out an oldfashioned button phone, placing it in his left trouser pocket, a brown leather wallet in the right, and finally, a wristwatch before stepping out of the bedroom, down the stairs to where his beloved bicycle was parked.

“Hoong!” The spotted dog barked as if it knew where its master intended to go, quickly getting up from under the bamboo bed and half-walking, half-running after the master’s bicycle.

On days when the master had errands that took him away, the spotted dog would relocate to the village to scrounge for food among the villagers while waiting for his return.

The master wheeled his bicycle into the chief’s compound, but today, the courtyard was crowded with many people.

Everyone in the village was aware of the great and dangerous journey the master was about to undertake, foretold by a dream of a large black snake appearing and speaking of future events.

This meant that the village might no longer have the priest to protect and guide them.

The villagers gathered to see him off, setting out a five-tiered tray of offerings on a mat in the center of the courtyard, along with various items. A soft, cushioned seat was placed beside it. Upon seeing the master arrive, the chief hurried over to invite him to sit. The rest of the villagers sat on the ground, forming a circle around him.

Both the master and the villagers raised their hands in prayer, palms together at chest level. This was a ceremony called “sut khwan.” performed to send off someone on a long journey, blessing them for safety and protection from all dangers.

Today, Grandma-Si was not there to lead the sut khwan chants. So, all the villagers had to join in the recitation themselves:

“Shri, Shri, hand, the mother’s good hand, Shri, Shri, today is a good day, a day of divine luck, we adorn with blessings, and so we invite the spirit with these words, come here, oh spirit…

“…“

“Thirty-two spirits come to you, ninety-two spirits come to your home, gather in your flesh, continue in your lineage, you have patterned cloths, you have variegated mats, boiled eggs for sustenance, betel nuts and fruits, liquor and sugarcane, all these we offer to you, rings of gold and silver, many things to please the heart, betel nuts to chew red, sweet potatoes, sugarcane pieces, fragrant moon oil to anoint, floral garlands for your hair, sweet-smelling wreath, fully bloomed flowers to adorn, thus we invite your spirit.”

“May you live well and in happiness, may you not suffer from illness, may the forest spirits not come near, may evil spirits not approach, may the power protect you, may your spirits in every part of your body stay with you until you reach the age of five thousand rains. So be it, five hundred rains, may you have life and prosperity.”

When the chanting ended, Pharan raised his hands in a respectful gesture, softly saying ‘Sadhu’ before standing up to allow the villagers to come and tie sacred threads on his wrist, nodding to accept their blessings, and absorbing all their good wishes.

Auntie Mai, who had been Grandma-Si’s friend since their youth, was the last to tie the thread on his wrist, finishing with a gentle pat on the back of Pharan’s hand.

“Master, remember that it’s not just you who loves and cares for us. We love and care for you too, take good care of yourself, and come back soon, we’ll have food and water ready for you.”

Pharan nodded, responding in a soft, low voice, “Yes, Auntie Mai.”

With time being limited, the ceremony proceeded quickly. Soon, Pharan’s right wrist was full of the villagers’ sacred threads, and he stepped onto Uncle Chai’s pickup truck heading straight to the airport to catch the last flight of the night.

Pharan arrived in Bangkok by nearly nine in the evening, carrying a black toolbox filled with his professional tools and items. Not knowing where to find the people he needed to meet, he started by taking a taxi to the university where all three of them had studied.

Pharan found a quiet spot to meditate and sent out his spirit to search for traces of Jett, Chan, and Khem. However, the city was full of people and spirits, with sights, sounds, and scents all mixed together, making it impossible to distinguish one from another, complicating the search for where the three might currently reside.

Things would have been easier if Pharan had decided to call Jett, but since it was very late, he didn’t want to disturb anyone’s sleep.

It took him over an hour to sense the presence of the three children. Once he knew where they were, he continued walking down the sidewalk.

Along the way, he encountered stray dogs. They often came to sniff and follow him; from one, it became two, then four. Soon, there was an odd sight for passersby: a strange-looking man being followed by a large pack of dogs, yet whenever anyone tried to take a photo, they couldn’t focus clearly on the mysterious man’s face, leaving all images blurry and curious.

Pharan walked until he reached an apartment that was neither too old nor too new, about five stories tall, located right by the road, but at this hour, hardly anyone was out wandering.

After confirming his destination, he approached an uncle selling skewered meatballs who was dozing off on a stool beside his cart. Pharan tapped three times before the man slowly opened his eyes.

“What would you like, young man?” The vendor asked. Pharan took out his wallet from his trouser pocket, handed over a thousand baht note, and said,

“I’ll take everything, but please share it with them.”

“Them” referred to the almost twenty stray dogs now standing behind him. The vendor, eager to pack up for the night, nodded quickly, and when the new customer declined the change, his smile widened even more. He took the money and blessed Pharan generously.

Once Pharan left, the meatball seller did his duty by distributing all the remaining meatballs to the stray dogs as instructed.

Pharan crossed the street, entering the apartment building, and as he got closer, the scent of something potent grew stronger.

It was the scent of the formidable spirit, Madam-Ramphueng.

Pharan climbed the stairs up to the fourth floor, stopped in front of room number 407, reached for the doorknob, muttered a quick incantation, and the previously locked door opened.

The scene before him was all too familiar: one child on the bed, two guarding on either side like sentinels.

However, it was not the time to feel sympathetic towards the sight, as there were more important things to do.

A tall figure stepped around Jett’s body to the side of the bed, then gently sat down on the open floor space.

The thick hand was placed on Khem’s smooth forehead, closing his eyes to search for Khem’s spirit that had drifted away from his body.

The reason Khem was in a deep sleep after nine in the evening was not because he felt relaxed enough to sleep peacefully, but because his spirit had drifted away from his body.

The sharp face leaned down, whispering softly on the back of his hand that was resting on Khem’s forehead.

“Khemjira”

“…”

“You can come back now.”

At that moment, Khem found himself lost in the darkness once again. This was not the first time Khem found himself in such a dark and cold place. Since returning from Ubon Ratchathani, Khem often ended up here every night, and the longer it went on, the more time it took to find a way out.

Khem didn’t dare tell Jett and Chan about this; he knew well how much they worried and how much they had suffered, sacrificing so much to help him escape from this wretched fate.

Khem didn’t want to cause them any more trouble. He was determined to struggle and live on his own, to honor the loss that had occurred and the efforts of Jett, Chan, and many others who had helped him all along.

But today, he felt extremely exhausted.

Why is surviving so difficult?

Khem pondered this every day, every moment.

Sometimes, he felt that leaving peacefully would be better than being a burden to others.

It’s so tiring…

Khem had decided to stop looking for a way out of there, but suddenly, he saw a golden light flickering in the distance.

Khem’s heart began to beat faster and faster as he felt his back grow hot, as if being stared at with resentful eyes.

Khem’s ears picked up the sound of many footsteps rapidly approaching. Although he couldn’t see them, his heart was filled with fear, scared that they might catch up and grab him.

The human instinct to fear death propelled Khem to run towards a distant light, as if it were a safe haven in this moment.

In the final second, someone’s hand nearly grabbed him, but just then, Khem’s clear brown eyes snapped open.

Breathing heavily, the light from the balcony poured into the room, allowing Khem to clearly see the face of someone he never thought he’d see again.

“Master…” Khem murmured softly, his eyes growing hot with tears.

“Hmm.” came the response, accompanied by a damp cloth pressed against his temple, and tears slowly began to trickle down from the corners of his eyes.

Khem gripped the priest’s hand against his chest and asked with a trembling voice,

“What are you doing here, Master?”

Pharan looked into those clear, round eyes he hadn’t seen in days for a moment before gently wiping away the tears with his other hand, responding in a low, concerned voice,

“You must continue to live.”

“…”

“We have to be together in this lifetime, no matter what our status is.”

 

KHEMJIRA CHAPTERS HOME

KHEMJIRA, Chapter 32:

  In the early hours of the night, around one in the morning, after Khem had fallen asleep from exhaustion, Jett woke Chan who was sleeping on the other side of Khem’s bed.

“Chan, wake up.” Chan opened his eyes, reached for his glasses beside the pillow, and with the light from the balcony which had been left on for the night, he could see Jett’s tense face.

“What’s up, Khun Jett?”

“Come downstairs with me.” Jett whispered back, cautious not to wake Khem. His response made Chan furrow his brows a bit.

“And Khun Khem? Will we leave him sleeping alone?” Jett scanned the room once more for safety, ensuring all sharp objects and potential weapons, including pencils, had been removed and locked away in the apartment’s locker since evening.

The balcony glass door from which Khem had once nearly jumped, as well as the bathroom door, were securely locked with padlocks. Not to mention the numerous protective amulets Jett and Chan had written and plastered on all four walls, and the legendary sacred object from Uncle Krai, laid with jasmine flowers on the wardrobe near the door, potent enough to make any resident spirits in the apartment hide away, truly justifying the half-million baht investment.

Despite all these precautions, Jett still felt uneasy.

After making sure everything was secure, he nodded.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine in here. Are you coming or not? I’m asking.” Chan sighed, clearly tired of Jett’s habits.

Jett wanted to kick Chan but held back, mindful of the steel amulet the monk had given him, which he wore as a constant necklace.

Unable to do more than glare, Jett quickly got up, leading Chan out of the room with his satchel full of items.

Before leaving, he didn’t forget to lock the door from the outside with another key, confident that Khem wouldn’t sleepwalk outside.

After locking up, they descended from the fourth floor to the ground level. Walking until they reached the front gate, ensuring no one was around, Jett opened his satchel and took out twelve slender rattan canes, each about a ruler’s length, handing them to Chan before saying:

“Take these rattan sticks and plant them in the ground, half a building’s width apart around the perimeter; I’ll tie the sacred thread myself.” Chan was still groggy from sleep, but eventually couldn’t help but ask,

“Why do we need to do this?” Jett, irritated, pursed his lips but then remembered that Chan couldn’t see what he could, so he explained,

“This apartment doesn’t have a spirit house. Spirits roam freely here. I’ve noticed it since the first time I came to visit Khem.”

“…”

“We got something powerful, sure, but I’m not entirely sure about it, especially with Khem’s birthday approaching, it’s going to get dangerous. Since yesterday, I’ve felt like I’m being watched all the time.”

“…”

“Khem’s karma spirits are already strong enough. If more come from elsewhere, you and I won’t be able to handle it. Even the ebony wood, which has been enchanted for years, might not hold up.”

“Let’s ask the apartment owner to conduct a spirit house ceremony tomorrow, but tonight we need to perform a protective ritual to buy us some time. Otherwise,

I won’t be able to sleep. Understand?”

Chan nodded, turned around, and went to carry out his task. Jett, seeing this, picked up a roll of sacred thread and followed to tie it to the rattan sticks Chan was planting around the building.

Once the sacred thread formed a square perimeter, Jett sat down on the ground, took out a gold plate from his bag, placed it on the ground, followed by a silver bowl, then took out a bottle of holy water from the temple where they had stayed overnight, which Jett had requested from the abbot.

He opened the bottle and poured the holy water into the silver bowl almost to the brim, then placed a small Buddha image into it, wrapping the sacred thread around the gold plate three times. Meanwhile, Chan went to pick jasmine flowers from beside the wall to use in the offering.

Jett lit nine incense sticks, holding them in a wai at his chest, while Chan knelt beside him, lighting five candles and placing them on the remaining space of the gold plate. They both closed their eyes, clasped their hands, and began to chant in reverence to the Triple Gem.

As soon as they started chanting, the lights around the building flickered on and off, followed by gusts of wind coming from all directions.

The incense smoke wavered with the wind, and suddenly, all five candles went out.

The putrid smell of ghosts crept into their noses, wafting around the area. Outside the protective lines, numerous dark shadows appeared, including both children and adults, from young to old. Some looked normal, others were twisted and distorted, moving closer yet unable to cross the protective boundary.

Jett’s ears heard screams mixed with laughter that seemed to mock them.

Cursing, wailing, and cries as if on the verge of death filled the air, all intended to break the concentration of the young men, but both Chan and Jett maintained their focus.

“Pahuneyo, Dakkhineyyo, Anchalikaraniyo”

“…”

“Anuttarang, Punyakhettang, Lokassati”

After the chant, Jett placed incense beside the building and returned to kneel in his original spot, hands clasped in prayer.

“My name is Jett, surname, Nakantakul.”

“My name is Chanwit, surname, Charoenkiatprecha.” After stating their full names, they spoke together:

“Also, Khemjira, Chantharapisut. We three respectfully offer our homage to all the Buddhas, the Dhamma, and the noble Sangha throughout the cosmos, to the Brahma, deities, and to all our masters. Please bless this holy water for us to protect us from all misfortune and malevolence. Amen.”

As their prayer ended, the protective lines and the golden tray suddenly glowed with a golden light, though Jett and Chan, not yet at the highest level of training, couldn’t see it. What they felt was a warm breeze that cleared away the stench of the spirits, and their ears were no longer assaulted by the disturbing noises. The dark shadows that had crowded around retreated, leaving emptiness in their wake.

Jett then took out a jasmine garland from his satchel, dipping it into the sacred water. He had Chan help carry the tray as they walked around the building, sprinkling the holy water to complete the ritual.

“Alright, let’s go back to sleep.” Jett said, yawning so hard his eyes watered, before leading Chan back inside.

Upon returning, seeing Khem still fast asleep, they both felt relieved and quickly settled back into their own sleeping spots, falling into a deep sleep.

That entire night passed peacefully as they had prayed for.

The following day, Jett, representing the group, negotiated with the apartment owner to set up a spirit house. Although the owner followed a different religion, Jett managed to persuade him by briefly explaining the problems and offering to cover all expenses themselves. The owner agreed, providing his name, surname, and birth details to Jett for selecting the auspicious time.

Jett combined the owner’s birth details with Khem’s to find a suitable time.

Fortunately, they found an auspicious time three days before Khem’s birthday.

During those three days, everything remained calm until the day of the ceremony. Jett ordered the necessary items for the ritual from a delivery company to avoid going outside, and also called a Brahmin priest known to Chan to perform the ceremony.

Since there wasn’t enough space beside the building to place the spirit house, they decided to set it up on the rooftop.

On this day, the sky was overcast, and the atmosphere was not conducive to the ceremony, despite it being the best day of the month. The priest felt an uncomfortable pressure in his chest, reluctant to proceed, sensing as if someone’s malevolent gaze was upon them continuously.

However, having accepted a significant sum of money, he felt compelled to continue despite his discomfort.

Jett, Chan, and Khem also felt uneasy. Throughout the ceremony, Khem kept looking around, while Jett and Chan continuously chanted protective mantras without pause, even though nothing seemed to interfere with the ceremony.

Finally, the spirit house ceremony was successfully completed. The Brahmin priest hastily excused himself after finishing his duties, and Jett, Chan, and Khem returned to their room.

It seemed their worries might have been self-induced, as after the ceremony, the sky cleared up, the sun shone brightly, and the atmosphere no longer felt gloomy like it did in the morning. It also appeared that the spirits that had been lurking in the apartment had vanished as if they never existed, something all three could sense.

This meant that setting up the spirit house to invite the guardian spirits had worked wonderfully. Even though their bank accounts were nearly depleted from purchasing the items and hiring the Brahmin priest, it was an investment well made.

When they felt the situation was safe, Jett and Chan began to take turns going out more often. Whether it was to go to school, return home, or fetch delicious food to bring back for Khem, with Khem always staying in the room with one of them, not going anywhere. Three days had passed safely without incident.

Jett glanced at the clock while the three of them were watching a movie on the bed; in just a few hours, it would be Khem’s birthday. But he felt they couldn’t let their guard down until the very last moment tonight. Jett and Chan decided to stay awake all night watching over Khem.

“Damn, it’s like clockwork; he shuts down at 11 PM sharp.” Jett muttered to Chan, explaining the situation while Khem was leaning against his shoulder. Chan, on the other side of Khem, looked away from the laptop screen to see Khem’s eyes fluttering shut, then helped adjust him to lie comfortably on the pillow.

Lately, at 11 PM, Khem would fall into a deep sleep and not wake until morning, which was good because he would sleep without nightmares or sleepwalking, which had been a concern.

Jett watched the clock for a moment before announcing, “Let’s go, Chan, it’s time for the chants.” Chan nodded, closed the laptop, placed it on the bedside table, and followed Jett to sit for chanting. Jett had placed a Buddha statue on a chair, with the Black Rosewood box on the floor beside it.

Jett lit two candles, placing one on either side of the Buddha statue, opting not to light incense to avoid disturbing Khem’s sleep. Chan turned off all the lights in the room, leaving the candles to provide illumination.

Jett and Chan sat facing each other with the Buddha statue and the wooden box between them. They raised their hands in a prayer gesture and began chanting, starting with the homage to the Triple Gem according to the scriptures, followed by the Itipiso chant, which they recited one hundred and eight times, as taught by the monk for enhancing one’s destiny, warding off spirits, and strengthening the mind.

The two voices blended together in a soft, rhythmic chant within the room:

“Itipiso, Bhagava, Arahant, SammasamBuddho, Vijjacaranasampanno…”

The hour hand of the clock moved steadily until it reached ten, but during the one hundred and seventh recitation of the Itipiso by Jett and Chan, everything turned pitch black.

At that moment, Khem got up from the bed, his feet slowly touching the floor, and he stepped quietly past Jett and Chan, leaving the room.

At fifty-five minutes past nine in the evening, Chan suddenly jolted awake. The light from the balcony illuminated the room enough to see Jett sleeping on the other side. Chan’s eyes widened as he turned to look at the bed, only to find that where Khem should have been sleeping was now empty.

“Khun Jett, Khun Jett!” Chan woke Jett with a louder and more urgent voice than usual, driven by fear. Jett woke up startled by Chan’s shout.

Their eyes met for just a moment, and the panic in Chan’s eyes made Jett immediately turn to check the bed.

“Shit!” Jett sprang up and ran out of the room, not even pausing to look at the knee he scraped when he stumbled.

Breathing heavily, Jett looked left and right before deciding to head downstairs, but before he could take a step, Chan grabbed his arm.

Chan shook his head and said,

“No. Not downstairs.” Something told Chan that the direction Jett was about to take was wrong. Jett was about to ask what made Chan think that, but past experiences had taught him to trust Chan’s instincts without question. He then led Chan in the opposite direction.

Jett ran up the emergency stairs to the rooftop with Chan following closely behind. The first thing they saw was the newly set up spirit house from a few days ago, now turned into a dilapidated shrine covered in cobwebs and emitting a foul, nauseating smell.

“Khem!!” Jett shouted when he saw Khem standing with his back to them on the edge of the rooftop wall.

Jett’s heart pounded harder with each passing second, his legs shaking as he took cautious steps forward, trying to get as close to Khem as possible. In contrast,

Chan moved slowly and steadily behind Jett, silently devising ways to save Khem.

But it seemed they were too late.

The wind blew past, sending a chill through the air, and Khem turned back to face Jett and Chan.

At fifty-nine minutes past nine in the evening, Khem’s eyes, which were once a clear brown, had turned completely black without a trace of white. His lips slowly formed into a smile, and he spoke briefly to the two,

“I’m taking him.”

With that statement, Khem’s body leaned back and fell off the rooftop.

 

KHEMJIRA CHAPTERS HOME

KHEMJIRA, Chapter 31:

  Khem had been preparing to leave the village since the previous night. He took advantage of the chaos after Grandma-Si’s cremation ceremony to slip away quietly, unnoticed. He quickly returned to the master’s house to grab his hidden clothes bag in the kitchen and made his way through the forest edge until he reached the road near the village entrance. Fortunately, all the villagers were still at the temple, so no one noticed Khem’s departure.

Khem didn’t want anyone else to suffer misfortune because of him, especially Jett, Chan, and the master.

Khem gripped his bag’s strap tightly, walking along the road away from the village for about two kilometers until he reached a roadside pavilion. He remembered that in the evening, a red pickup taxi would pass by this spot to take passengers to the bus station in the city.

And at six in the evening, this would be the last trip of the day.

Khem didn’t wait long before the red pickup taxi arrived. There were no other passengers on the truck, which actually relieved Khem.

Praying that this vehicle would reach its destination safely.

When Jett and Chan climbed onto the back of the village chief’s truck, it drove out from the village and headed north. Even though they didn’t know where the village chief was taking them, both felt confident that they would definitely find their friend at the end of the journey.

The village chief stopping to wait for them earlier was no coincidence. There was no way he could have known what was about to happen.

This was the master’s final act of assistance.

The two all placed our hands in a wai above their heads as the truck passed by the shrine of the local spirit.

Please, sacred spirit, protect and keep my friend safe.

…

At half past ten, Khem arrived at the bus station safely.

After paying the fare to the driver, Khem hugged his bag and walked to find a seat far from other people. Once he found a spot, he sat down and reflected on everything that had happened, alone.

Throughout Khem’s life, he had endured many hardships from a young age. Khem never blamed anyone for all these troubles. He was grateful to have been born into this world and had always tried to live a good life. Although sometimes Khem felt lonely, he had learned to accept it and adapt to being on his own.

Until the day Khem met a friend like Jett.

Jett was hot-tempered, reacting directly with anger when someone wronged him, not one to be taken advantage of. He also had a loud voice as if he’d eaten microphones instead of food, in stark contrast to Khem, whose every word spoken would make everyone stop and listen attentively.

Khem was weak, timid, and not one to fight back, unlike Jett who was always ready for action if someone displeased him. To others, Jett might seem intimidating, but for Khem, he was the best friend he ever had.

Though outwardly Jett might seem like a moving bonfire, he was a fire that could warm you during the coldest times.

Khem had been well-protected by Jett, leading him to believe that this life was worth living to the fullest.

With Chan, even though they hadn’t known each other for long, Khem felt as connected to him as he did with Jett. Having Chan nearby always made Khem feel at ease.

Chan was calm, reasonable, often providing what those around him needed without being asked, composed, and communicated more through actions than words, contrasting with Jett like opposite poles.

If Jett was the warm fire, Chan was like the cool water that soothes the soul.

Khem was glad to have met both Jett and Chan. The time spent with them was filled with happiness, which is why he chose to leave quietly, not wanting to burden them with his troubles.

Because this time, it was more than Khem could handle. He was heartbroken to have caused the death of someone as good as Grandma-Si and to have brought pain to the master and the villagers.

Everything was because of him…

…

When they reached the bus station, Jett and Chan quickly jumped off the truck, went to thank and bid farewell to the village chief, then rushed into the station to look for Khem among the crowd.

Jett ran around frantically while Chan approached the station staff, explaining they were looking for a man about his height, with fair skin and dark brown hair, showing a picture on his phone of Khem taken during a bai sri su khwan ceremony.

The middle-aged male staff member looked at the picture for a moment before nodding.

“I think I saw him near the restrooms. The bus hasn’t left yet, he should still be around here. Go look for him.”

“Thank you.” Chan said with a wai to the other person before heading to where Jett was standing, anxiously tapping his foot. Once he finished speaking, they went together to look for Khem near the restrooms as directed by the staff.

Khem took a deep breath, looking left and right to decide his next move.

Where would he sleep tonight?

  Where would he go tomorrow?

  What else was there left to do?

  Tomorrow, the university semester will start. Should he go back to studying, or should he return to the monk?

  Khem clenched his lips as he felt his eyes start to burn, then wiped away the tears with his arm.

  Being alone again felt so unfamiliar…

  At that moment, overwhelmed by feelings of emptiness, fear, and confusion, Khem suddenly noticed the tips of two pairs of sneakers that he remembered being washed just a few days ago.

Khem bit his lip to hold back tears, then slowly looked up at his close friends, softly calling out to them,

“Chan, Jett…”

Chan smiled, his face covered in sweat, while Jett reached out to gently tap Khem’s forehead with his fist.

“You ran away quite far, didn’t you?”

After finishing his sentence, Khem’s strained composure began to crack, as he realized he wasn’t being haunted by ghosts. The walls of his endurance crumbled along with his clear tears.

“Huh, huhu…”

Jett and Chan moved closer to Khem. Jett pulled Khem into a hug, and Chan reached out to gently pat his shoulder.

Jett took a deep breath, the relief of finding Khem causing his emotions to swing erratically. His heart was still pounding from the sudden joy, making his voice tremble more than usual.

“Listen to me, Khem.”

“…”

“No matter what happens in the future, I won’t let go of you, ever.” Jett wanted to say more, but feeling his tears about to spill, he chose to remain silent.

Regarding Grandma-Si, it wasn’t that he wasn’t saddened by what happened. He had always felt guilty, knowing that Grandma-Si had once fed him when he was young. His respect, love, and connection to her were not small, but Khem hadn’t done anything wrong; if anyone was to blame, it was himself for bringing Khem here.

From the moment he met Khem, Jett had set a goal to help him overcome any bad situations. Until he saw Khem have a bright future and live happily, he would stay by his side, protecting him.

Even if it meant he had to die.

“Don’t run away like this again, you understand?” Khem, hearing this, sobbed more, nodding once in agreement, one hand clutching Jett’s shirt, the other holding onto Chan’s thumb.

“Thank you, thank you so much, Jett, Chan. I really mean it.”

Then Chan left Jett alone with Khem, going to buy food and water for all three of them, as none had eaten since the afternoon.

They decided to head back to Bangkok the next day, but before that, Jett had a place he needed to visit. For tonight, they chose to stay at a nearby temple, thinking it would be more comforting than a hotel.

Fortunately, the abbot was kind and compassionate, arranging for the temple boys to set up bedding for them in the sala, in front of the large Buddha statue.

After bathing and changing, they quickly went to bed since they had to travel early the next morning. Before sleep, they didn’t forget to chant prayers, asking for divine protection during their slumber. The sleeping arrangement remained as always, with Khem in the middle, flanked by Chan and Jett.

“Jett, where are you taking us tomorrow?” Khem asked. Jett stared at the ceiling of the sala for a moment as if weighing his words before responding.

“To see someone who might be able to help you.” Khem pressed his lips together tightly.

“Can’t we not go, Jett? I…I don’t want to trouble anyone else.” Jett shook his head in refusal and reached out to pat Khem’s soft hair.

“He’ll definitely help. No problem. Trust me, just relax and don’t overthink it.” Khem took another breath and nodded in obedience.

The three of them didn’t talk for long about the next day before exhaustion took over, and they fell asleep.

Unbeknownst to them, the abbot and several senior monks were chanting prayers all night to ward off evil spirits coming from all directions.

  The next morning, they quickly got up to wash and brush their teeth. After finishing, they went to pay respects and bid farewell to the abbot. Then they shouldered their bags and waited at the front of the temple for the songthaew.

Jett led Khem and Chan to a nearby sub-district, ringing the bell to get off at the village entrance pavilion. He guided his friends through narrow alleys until they reached a house on stilts surrounded by a low bamboo fence with a sign that read,

“Maw Krailert’s Residence.”

“This is it, let’s go in.” Jett said before leading Khem and Chan inside.

At that moment, Maw Krailert, who was meditating, suddenly opened his eyes.

His sharp gaze narrowed as he looked at the three teenagers approaching.

What do Pharan’s disciples want here?

  This question was evident in his expression. Jett, who had crawled forward to sit about a meter away, quickly raised his hands in a wai, followed by Chan and Khem.

“Uncle Krai, hello.” Jett greeted. Krailert furrowed his brows, nodding before he spoke,

“Why have you come to see me?”

Jett quickly pulled Khem forward and looked back at Uncle Krai, one of the most powerful shamans in the area, and relayed the important parts of their story.

Maw Krailert gave Khem a fleeting glance, already sensing how grave his condition was. Upon hearing the story, he responded with a voice holding back laughter,

“Even your master wouldn’t interfere. And you’re hoping for help from an outsider like me, huh, Jett?”

Hearing this, Jett quickly started to plead in his usual manner.

“Oh, Uncle Krai, our master is a white magician. He doesn’t deal with these matters. In Ubon Ratchathani, the only shaman as skilled as our master is Uncle

Krai.” Jett tried his best to flatter, but Uncle Krai remained impassive. Finally, Jett had to resort to his last card.

“I’ve saved up half a million. I’ll give it all to you, Uncle Krai, please help me and my friends.” Hearing the sum, Uncle Krai’s face finally showed emotion, his eyes gleaming like a predator, his voice menacing enough to instill fear.

“Jett, if you lie, I’ll kill you.”

Jett nodded earnestly, his gaze serious and unwavering, devoid of any jest. This pleased Uncle Krai, who responded with satisfaction.

“Then you all wait here.”

After saying this, he got up and disappeared into the back room, leaving Jett, Khem, and Chan to wait.

Not long after, Uncle Krai returned with a wooden box about an elbow’s length, placing it in front of the three young men.

“Here, open it and see.” With permission granted, Jett opened the box to see what was inside, his eyes widening at the sight.

“Shit…” Jett exclaimed, quickly covering his mouth, his shocked demeanor making Khem and Chan look at him with confusion.

“What’s this, Jett?” Khem asked, his eyes shifting between Jett and the contents of the box, which looked like a charred piece of wood, blackened and covered with thorns like a rosewood tree.

Jett swallowed hard before answering:

“It’s called Black Rosewood…

Black Rosewood looks like an ordinary rosewood on the outside, but its wood is pitch black throughout. The ancients believed it to be a magical tree protected by deities, found in deep forests, taking hundreds of years to grow to be discovered by humans. It’s considered a highly potent magical artifact.

If it’s a tree where the deity has sacrificed itself and turned to stone, it has the power to protect one from all kinds of dangers, especially from dark magic and evil spirits.

Nowadays, real Black Rosewood is incredibly rare. Its value is immeasurable.”

“Uncle Krai, you’re really giving it to us?” Jett asked, feeling a bit uncertain due to the value of the item likely exceeding the amount of money he had offered.

Krailert nodded before replying,

“I’ve been nurturing this piece of ebony for years, but I don’t need it anymore.

Take it, but don’t forget our agreement.”

It wasn’t just the money that made Krailert agree to help and hand over this family heirloom to the three youths; he was also curious to see if his magical studies could stand up to someone like Pharan.

Having avoided direct confrontation to prevent damage for a long time, this might be a way to determine who was truly more skilled. That was the only reason.

If he could find out, Krailert thought he could die content in this lifetime with no regrets.

Jett clasped his hands in a wai and bowed, followed quickly by Khem and Chan.

“Thank you very much, Uncle Krai.”

Jett, Khem, and Chan returned to Bangkok that afternoon by airplane, arriving in just two hours. Both Jett and Chan brought their clothes to Khem’s room, planning to stay together until Khem’s twentieth birthday in a week.

  So, they prepared by stocking up on food and essentials, intending to leave the room as little as possible.

  If their plan was correct, in just seven days, the curse and the vengeful spirits from Khem’s past life would no longer be able to affect him.

 

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KHEMJIRA, Chapter 30:

  Jett and Chan took Khem back to the master’s residence. Jett decided to return to Grandma-Si’s house to assess the situation, leaving Chan to look after Khem at the master’s place.

Upon returning, Khem locked himself in his room, and Chan could only sit outside, listening to his friend’s cries, feeling the overwhelming sorrow that could not be expressed in words, unable to do anything to help.

He prayed that everything would pass quickly and well.

The sound of the “Thani Krasang” funeral song played throughout the village.

Grandma-Si’s funeral was held that evening, amidst the grief of many villagers. Her body was to be kept at her home for a single night for merit-making before being cremated at the temple the next day, as per her final wishes conveyed to everyone.

Since she had no children or grandchildren, she didn’t want to burden the villagers. Although some disagreed, preferring traditional customs, they realized they had never repaid her kindness; thus, fulfilling her last wish seemed appropriate.

“Master, why don’t you go back, shower, and change your clothes? I’ll take care of things here.” Jett approached the master, who was still in his bloodstained white shirt, wet from the pond, not having changed even after over two hours. He was worried the master might fall ill.

The atmosphere around the master was too tense for anyone to casually speak, except for his close disciple, Jett. But seeing the master nod in acknowledgement, Jett quietly stepped back, not saying anything more.

At this moment, no matter how chaotic the surroundings were, Pharan sat still on the floor, his black eyes fixed on the incense sticks in the pot in front of the coffin, which burned away one by one.

Every minute passed slowly, and every memory flowed back, shaking the feelings he had kept hidden in his heart with sorrow.

For Pharan, Grandma-Si was not unlike a mother who had given him life. She had given him his first embrace after losing his mother, fed him his first spoonful of rice, and made the first treat with care. All of these were acts of Grandma-Si.

Thus, despite understanding the truth of life that all humans are born to eventually pass away, it’s impossible not to feel sorrow.

Before the time for the monks to arrive for the funeral rites, Pharan had to return home to bathe and change. During the walk back, every step felt heavy, as if the ground itself might split apart, the forest spirits recoiled in fear. Even the land spirits of this area trembled.

It was a kind of anger no one had encountered in this life before.

Upon returning to the house, as he ascended the steps, he heard two distinct sobs from both wings of the house. He paused at the central part, listening to both, then decided to head right.

Pharan entered a room where a table held an incense pot and two bottles of red soda. In the center of the table stood a wooden sculpture of two boys holding hands, crafted by a woodcarver.

The crying came from one who had lost his twin brother, never to return.

“Ekk.” Pharan called out softly. Soon, the boy in the blue school uniform appeared. The young boy clung tightly to Pharan’s trousers, still sobbing pitifully.

“Master, hic, Thong, Thong, huhu.” Pharan gently stroked Ekk head, then responded in a low voice,

“Um, I know.”

“Hic, I can’t stay here without Thong, Master, hic, can you bring Thong back to me?”

Pharan held his breath for a moment at that request, knowing well he couldn’t fulfill it.

Pharan understood well the pain of losing someone so dear, but if one still had breath, the only option was to keep struggling. However, for those who had lost their breath, there were still ways to meet again.

“I can’t bring him back, but I can send you to him if you wish.” Pharan said, causing Ekk to slowly lift his head to look at the monk’s face once more.

“…”

“What do you say?”

“…”

“Do you want to stay here, or go to where you both should have been from the start?”

In truth, neither of them should have been summoned into this statue by Pharan’s grandfather, a shaman, if it hadn’t been for his youthful experimentation. If not for that, they would have been reborn long ago. Hearing this, Ekk, thinking of all the time spent here, cried softly, nodding before retreating and bowing at the monk’s feet in respect.

The memories in this Thai house were precious to the orphaned spirits like Ekk and Thong, who had no one to care for them, but ultimately, what was most valuable to Ekk was his twin brother. With tears in his eyes, he said to the master,

“Thank you so much for everything.”

Upon finishing his words, Pharan knelt down, touched the young spirit’s head he had spent decades with, and chanted a mantra to adjust their spiritual state. Ekk’s form slowly transformed into a soft yellow light floating above Pharan’s hand, which he then placed into a wooden box. Tomorrow, he would take it to the temple for the abbot to help send the spirit to a better place alongside Grandma-Si.

After placing the wooden box back in its spot, Pharan stared at it for several minutes before saying:

“I hope in your next lives, both of you will be born into a family that loves and cares for you well.”

Khem got up at dawn to prepare food, which he then took in a basket to Grandma-Si’s house with Chan. Upon arriving at the funeral, the first thing he did was pay his respects by lighting an incense stick and offering an apology.

“Grandma-Si. I’m so sorry for causing you to leave like this. It’s all my fault.”

“…”

“If I hadn’t come here in the first place, all these terrible things wouldn’t have happened.”

“…”

“If there’s still a breath in me, I’ll make sure to do merit often for you,

Grandma.”

“…”

“I’m really sorry.” After saying this, he placed the incense stick into the pot, bowed once, and slowly stepped back to place the food from the basket he had prepared into the alms bowl set aside, then went to sit at a chair behind where no one would notice, to listen to the monks chanting.

Khem spoke little and was more silent than usual, causing Chan, who had been observing him all the time, to feel uneasy. Even Jett, who was assisting the Reverend, kept glancing at him frequently.

Jett was worried that Khem might blame himself too much, but he was also concerned about the master’s state of mind. Thus, he stayed close, not daring to leave Khem alone.

Jett had no idea how the master felt about Khem now, after losing someone so dear, almost like a mother, due to Khem’s karma. However, to Jett, Khem was still a friend he would never let go of easily.

‘Just wait, Khem. I’ll make the master understand that none of this was your fault,’ Jett thought to himself.

When the time came for Grandma-Si’s cremation ceremony, her body was placed in a pickup truck and driven into the temple. Ten villagers were ordained to perform the ceremony, ten monks chanted Buddhist mantras, offerings were made, a sermon was given, and the monks chanted the Matika Bangsakol, followed by the offering of traditional items and then the pouring of water as the final step.

After the merit-making for the deceased, the abbot, or Luang Por Sua, led the procession. During the procession, the village chief carried a lit incense stick. Behind him, the master, dressed in black from head to toe, held Grandma-Si’s portrait, followed by Jett, Uncle-Chai, Uncle-Lah, Uncle-Mek, and two other men carrying the coffin on their shoulders, with the villagers bringing up the rear in the final farewell to Grandma-Si.

After circling the funeral pyre three times, Grandma-Si’s coffin was placed on the cremation platform. During the recounting of Grandma-Si’s life and her good deeds for the village, there were intermittent soft sobs.

Understanding the truths of life, they conducted the Bangsakol cloth offering ceremony, followed by villagers placing jasmine flowers and incense sticks at the base of the pyre for the lighting.The monk was the first to walk up, placing sandalwood flowers, candles, and incense, and also set the wooden box containing Ekk’s spirit next to Grandma-Si, entrusting her to watch over this spirit too. He spoke softly in the Isan dialect, as always:

“See you later, Grandma. Please take care of Ekk too.”

After the monk had placed the flowers and returned to his seat, the villagers followed, lining up to place their own sandalwood flowers. Among them were Chan and Khem.

The final act was lighting the cremation pyre. Grandma-Si’s coffin was moved into the crematorium, and the light grey smoke wafting from the top of the pyre was a sight that tugged at many hearts, leading them to clasp their hands in prayer over their heads.

From now on, this small village would no longer have Grandma-Si, the guardian of their spirits. May Grandma-Si be with those she loved and find peace in a good realm.

As everything concluded, Khem felt a change in the hand he thought was Chan’s; turning, he found it was not his friend but a village child looking confused. Chan quickly let go, apologizing.

Looking around, Chan saw only villagers milling about, and Khem had vanished without him noticing. His already worried heart grew even more anxious.

At that moment, Jett, having finished his duties with the monk, hurried over but frowned when he saw Chan standing alone, looking pale and sweaty. He rushed over without hesitation.

“Where’s Khem, Chan?” Chan, still frowning, shook his head.

“I don’t know.” Jett, in frustration, slapped his own forehead, then grabbed Chan’s arm, urging him to move.

“Damn it, come on, let’s go back to the house!” Jett hoped that Khem was just tired and had gone back to wait for them at the residence, praying he hadn’t gone anywhere.

But their prayers were in vain; Khem had packed his belongings and left the village, leaving behind only a tear-stained letter.

‘To Jett and Chan, thank you for always helping me. I’m sorry for causing you trouble. Please apologize to the master and the villagers for me. I’m sorry I’m too cowardly and weak, causing problems like this. I hope you all have a good life from now on. Goodbye.’

  After reading the letter to the end, Jett placed it back where it was and made to dash out of the room, but Chan grabbed his arm.

“Khun Jett, where are you going?” Jett looked incredulous before replying sharply,

“To find Khem, what else? If we let him go like this, he’ll definitely die!” Chan furrowed his brows in response,

“I understand how you feel. I’m worried about Khem too, but we can’t just rush out like this.” This was because neither Jett nor Chan knew where Khem was at the moment or where he intended to go. Acting without a clear plan would only waste time and could potentially make things worse.

“Let’s consult with the master first.” Jett, after considering the reasoning, took a deep breath to calm himself and then nodded in agreement. When they left the room, they saw the master waiting in the central area of the house, as if he already knew what had transpired.

Without delay, Jett and Chan approached the master on their knees, hands clasped in a wai before speaking,

“Master, Khem has left the village.” Jett said urgently. Pharan set his coffee cup down beside him before responding,

“And what of it?”

Jett swallowed hard seeing the Reverend’s impassive gaze, then continued in a trembling voice, “Master. If he goes out there in that state, he’s surely going to die.

Please, master, help us.” Before Jett could finish his sentence, the Reverend cut in,   “In fact, you shouldn’t have brought him here in the first place.”

“…”

“I told you, didn’t I? Not to meddle in someone else’s karma.”

“…”

“Do you see now what happens when you interfere in others’ affairs, or must I die for you to realize?”

That statement hit like a lightning bolt. Jett swallowed, reflecting on the master’s words, his heart trembling with sorrow and regret for his actions.

Indeed, it was Jett who had approached Khem, bringing him here, which led to many people getting troubled and even caused Grandma-Si’s death due to Khem’s karma. Everything was Jett’s fault.

  But the thought of stopping everything and letting Khem face death alone felt like a spear piercing his heart.

Khem was a dear friend whom Jett loved and wanted to protect with his life; he wanted to see Khem live a long life with him. Therefore, he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

Having thought about it, Jett slowly knelt down and spoke with a tearful voice:

“I’m leaving now, Master.”

Jett and Chan shouldered their bags as they left the master’s house, but they hadn’t even passed the rubber tree forest when they spotted a white pickup truck parked by the road, with the village chief standing beside it. Seeing this, they approached.

“Uncle village chief, are you going somewhere?” Jett asked softly, not daring to think much of himself at this moment.

“I’m here to pick you up. Aren’t you going to look for Khem? There’s still time if we go now.” Both Jett and Chan’s eyes widened, they exchanged a glance before Chan asked further:

“Do you know where Khem is, village chief?” The village chief nodded, not admitting that he actually didn’t know when Khem had left the village or where he intended to go, if someone hadn’t come to tell him.

“Hmm, hurry, get in the truck, we don’t want to miss him.” That was all it took for Jett and Chan to rush and jump into the back of the village chief’s truck.

The house fell into silence after the two disciples left. What Pharan did next was to drink from a sacred water pot he had blessed earlier, then he retched out the black blood that had accumulated in his chest over the past two days into a basin, repeating this process day and night.

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KHEMJIRA, Chapter 29:

  The little girl had only intended to sneak out to catch fireflies at night because she couldn’t sleep. She never expected to witness such events with her own eyes.

Krongkwan was a clever child and well aware that MaeYing Kesakaew was the most powerful woman in the household. Her mother had always warned her not to play or be mischievous near her, and often, she had seen MaeYing Kesakaew beat the servants. Thus, the child was deeply afraid of this lady, but this time, the cruelty was beyond what a seven-year-old could handle. Just as she was about to scream, a hand from behind covered her small lips.

MaeYing Koknang, upon looking for her child and finding her, could guess what had happened to Madam-Ramphueng even though she hadn’t witnessed the events.

Even MaeYing Radamani, who was the daughter of a high-ranking official, had such a tragic fate; how could Madam-Ramphueng, merely a servant, ever hope to rise to fight the level of the primary wife like MaeYing Kesakaew?

MaeYing Koknang’s eyes were red with fear and shock at her daughter having witnessed such an unspeakable scene. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen to them if they were caught.

Krongkwan pointed at Madam-Ramphueng, but MaeYing Koknang shook her head, then scooped up her child and half-ran, half-walked away.

However, they did not escape MaeYing Kesakaew’s sight, nor did they miss the hope in Madam-Ramphueng’s eyes, which seemed to see light at the end of the tunnel.

Seeing the hopeful expression on Madam-Ramphueng’s face, MaeYing Kesakaew sneered, grabbed Madam-Ramphueng by her hair to make her look up, and said,

“Do you think those two, mother and daughter, can help you in any way?”

Madam-Ramphueng was still crying as if her heart would break, but MaeYing Kesakaew showed no pity or compassion. She turned to speak to the two male servants holding Madam-Ramphueng,

“Take her to the storage room and lock her up. Follow me.” She then spoke to the rest of the servants, pushed Madam-Ramphueng’s head away forcefully, and walked towards the left wing of the house where MaeYing Koknang and her daughter resided…

Two days later, Phraya Worasingh returned home upon receiving grim news from one of the servants. The first was that MaeYing Kesakaew had given birth to a son, but the son had died shortly after birth. The second was about MadamRamphueng…

Madam-Ramphueng was released from the storage room where she had been locked up for two full days after hearing that her husband had returned. She ran to the house to complain about what had happened to her and her child, but in the house, there were not only Phraya Worasingh but also several men from the same lineage, from young to old, who had all received the same report.

The male servant who delivered the letters to everyone was from Ong Luang Phakdiwijitra, PhrayaWorasingh’s father, who was placed in the household to report back on the various goings-on to his master.

Phraya Worasingh had four full brothers and seven close male relatives, all of whom held good positions thanks to the connections of Phraya Chalermsak, father of MaeYing Kesakaew, and a friend of the current king. Whatever happened within Phraya Worasingh’s household, whether good or bad, was always under scrutiny by those in power.

Naturally, in this matter, everyone with stakes could not remain indifferent.

“So, what exactly happened? Madam-Ramphueng, you explain!” Ong Luang

Phakdiwijitra asked with a stern face. Surrounded by the men of authority,

Madam-Ramphueng felt a glimmer of hope. She quickly clasped her hands together and recounted the whole story in search of justice, her body still weak and tears streaming down her cheeks.

Phraya Worasingh’s face grew increasingly somber as he listened, and once she finished, he spoke up, then turned to a female servant waiting for orders not far away.

“This matter cannot be judged one-sidedly. Go fetch MaeYing Kesakaew and

MaeYing Kaknang.”

“Yes, sir.” The servant replied, hiding a smile before she left. Soon, she returned with MaeYing Kesakaew, who was being supported by a close attendant, looking frail and pale from grief and lack of sleep after losing her son. MaeYing Kaknang followed quietly, holding her daughter’s hand, her head down.

Once all three women were seated, Phraya Worasingh, with a trembling voice tinged with anger and sorrow, got straight to the point.

“Madam-Ramphueng says you threw her child into the river. Is this true?”

MaeYing Kesakaew, ignored in her own loss of a son and having nearly bled to death, could only swallow her grief and lift her head to speak:

“After losing my child, I’ve been feverish and bedridden, without the strength to do such a thing. Last night, Madam Kaknang and her daughter even came to visit me. If you don’t believe me, ask her.”

“Is this true?” MaeYing Kaknang met Madam-Ramphueng’s eyes briefly before looking away to respond to her husband.

“Really, sister?” Madam-Ramphueng’s eyes widened in disbelief at what she heard from MaeYing Koknang, then she screamed with all her might, her body thrashing in refusal, though still held down by the two male servants.

“It’s not true! It’s not true! Didn’t you and your daughter see what MaeYing

Kesakaew did to me that night? Why lie about it?” Phraya Worasingh looked at

Madam-Ramphueng with a mix of pain and pity in his eyes, then turned to look at MaeYing Koknang, who maintained an impassive expression, keeping all her emotions tightly controlled.

“What do you have to say?” Phraya Worasingh asked, feeling a tightness in his chest.

Madam-Ramphueng, fearing she wouldn’t receive justice, turned to Krongkwan.

“Krongkwan, you saw it that night, didn’t you? Please, help me!”

At this, all eyes turned to the little girl trembling beside her mother. But when her mother gently stroked her back, she took a deep breath and spoke in a quivering voice,

“Y-yes, I saw it.” PhrayaWorasingh swallowed hard, then continued to ask his daughter,

“What did you see, Krongkwan?”

“I saw Madam-Ramphueng throwing the baby into the river.”

After Krongkwan finished speaking, while Madam-Ramphueng was still in shock, the men, who were the decision-makers, subtly exhaled in relief.

Not long after, a female servant who had once been a close friend of MadamRamphueng, before she was made a wife, ran onto the platform holding a banana leaf parcel, saying a merchant from the market had left it for her.

“The merchant said Madam-Ramphueng had arranged for opium to be delivered every week, but she didn’t show up today after waiting for a long time. I went out to buy things for Lady Koknang, and he recognized me, so he left it with me.”

Upon hearing this, Madam-Ramphueng understood what had happened. She had been framed as an opium addict, having thrown her child into the river in a druginduced frenzy, mistakenly believing that MaeYing Kesakaew, whom she despised, was the perpetrator. That night, MaeYing Kesakaew had ordered her to be locked up until Phraya Worasingh returned.

“Aaaargh! No! No! Ugh! Waaaah!” Madam-Ramphueng screamed in anguish, but soon a servant gagged her with cloth, and two more men gripped her arms tightly, leaving only her legs to kick helplessly. The image of her child being thrown into the river was like a knife repeatedly stabbing her heart.

What the truth was, everyone knew well, but here, the truth was something that would only bring harm to oneself. Even Phraya Worasingh did not speak up or help Madam-Ramphueng.

When everything settled down, Ong Luang Phakdiwijitra struck his cane on the ground with a loud thump and declared:

“Take this deceitful servant away to be flogged to death!”

Madam-Ramphueng was dragged away crying, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the emotional torment she endured.

She had only held her child a few times, embraced and smelled her baby only a handful of moments, and looked into the adorable face for a brief while before he was cruelly taken from her. Her husband did not lift a finger to help, the last beacon of hope turned his back, and she was falsely accused and left to die in disgrace.

Madam-Ramphueng’s body was left to lie in a pool of blood on the dirty ground, her once beautiful eyes now bloodshot and staring blankly like those of a demon, tears streaming endlessly, her lips, bitten until they bled, turning a dark purple as she muttered her last words:

“With my last breath, I curse you all…”

“…”

“Kesakaew, may you suffer a fate worse than what you’ve done to my child, and when you die, may you burn in hell, never to be reborn as a human.”

“…”

“From here on, may this family only face calamity. No sons shall continue the lineage. If the descendants are born as women, may they lose their lovers, either by separation or death. If they are born as men, let them die before the age of twenty.”

“Phii Khem! Phii Khem!”

“Phii Khem! Can you hear us!”

A small voice, as if heard before, pierced through the dimension, and her eyes opened wide to the scene before her.

From the ghostly form of Madam-Ramphueng, it transformed into Grandma-Si, with entirely black eyes, her hands strangling a boy with a ponytail in a blue mahout outfit who was struggling for life. Khem recognized them as Ekk and Thong, the ghost servants kept by the monk.

‘Run, Phii Khem!’

The voice of someone echoed again in Khem’s mind, snapping him back to the reality of his current situation. Although part of him didn’t want to escape alone, he knew he couldn’t do anything more. With his last bit of strength, he swam as fast as he could towards the surface.

Khem struggled up onto the dock, panting and crying, then crawled to the edge to look down into the water.

Grief, confusion, and anger churned in his chest. Grandma-Si, Thong, and Ekk, all of them were in this dire situation because of Khem.

Khem gasped for air, still sobbing. His heart wanted to jump back in to help Grandma-Si, Ek, and Tong, but he was also terrified that he might only make things worse.

At that moment, Khem’s arm was pulled back by Jett, with Chan running up, looking distressed.

“Khem! Are you okay?” Jett asked. Khem shook his head, tears still streaming down his face like someone out of their mind, his whole body trembling.

“Jett, Chan, Grandma-Si, Grandma-Si, ughhh.” Khem sobbed almost to the point of breaking down, while Jett and Chan exchanged confused glances. Then someone ran past them and dove into the water swiftly.

Splash!

Jett pulled Khem away from the edge, his eyes fixed on the spot where the water had rippled, his heart pounding. He didn’t dare to ask Khem what had happened.

Because the person who had jumped into the water was the master.

Pharan, in his blood-stained white shirt, dove into the pond. What Khem saw was Grandma-Si, no longer possessed by the evil spirit, and Ekk’s body floating beside her. On the other side, only a golden dust, the remnants of Thong’s spirit that had shattered, remained.

The tall figure swam to support the one who was like another mother to him, embracing her in his arms, while his other hand touched the head of his remaining spirit servant, reciting a mantra in his mind to send him back to the house.

Shortly after, Jett, Chan, and Khem saw the monk carrying Grandma-Si’s body out of the water. The oppressive and frightening feeling made the three of them step back several paces. Khem stood still, allowing the monk to pass with Grandma-Si in his arms, only watching the pale feet of Grandma-Si with a pained expression, not daring to look up to see the monk’s face.

Because they all knew that Grandma-Si, as the monk carried her, was no longer breathing.

 

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