Chapter 7: A Mother’s Beads

The shop smelled of old wood, damp cloth, and something faintly sour underneath.

Lian stepped inside and let the door close behind him. The place was narrower than it looked from the street. Shelves ran along both walls, packed tight with things that had clearly been sitting there for years cracked porcelain, tarnished silver, boxes with faded labels, chairs with split leather seats. Dust hung in the air. Somewhere near the floorboards he heard the quick, dry scratch of rats moving between the stacks. The light was weak, coming from a single bulb near the counter, and it made every corner look darker and he thought it’s an perfect Place to get kidnapped.

He didn’t like it. The whole place felt like it had been closed too long.

The old woman had already gone behind the counter. She watched him look around without speaking, her hands resting on the wood.

Lian cleared his throat. The sound felt too loud.

"I’m looking for something," he said. "A charm. For goodluck Or... an tailsman to fend of negative energy. Whatever people call it."

She raised her eyebrows a little. "good luck ?"

"Yeah." He shifted his weight. "For the few days I have been only with bad luck nothing goes the way I want

The old woman studied his face. Lian felt the pause stretch. He almost started talking again just to lift up the mood, but she only nodded once, as if she had decided not to ask anything more, and turned to a wooden box on the counter. The lid stuck for a second before it came open. She took out a string of dark beads, worn smooth in places from long handling.

"This isn’t an ordinary charm," she said. "These beads have been with me for almost twenty years."

Lian blinked. "Wait. Twenty years? Why would you give me something you’ve kept that long?"

The old woman looked down at the beads resting in her palm. For a moment her expression changed. The sharp, practical look she had worn outside softened into something heavier.

"They’re no use to me anymore," she said quietly. "Just take them and go. I can feel you’re suffering. My son was the same."

Lian didn’t know what to say. The words sat between them.

She kept speaking, her voice lower now, almost like she was telling it to herself as much as to him.

"I never believed in any of this. I used to hate people who sold charms. I thought they were all just scamming desperate people. Then one day I was out walking with my son. We were only going to buy groceries. An old man stopped us on the street. He looked at my boy for a long time and said, ’Wait. Don’t go yet.’ He took a talisman out of his coat and held it toward us. I told him we didn’t have money. He said it was free."

She paused. Her fingers closed slowly around the beads.

"We took it. When I turned around , he was still standing there, watching my son. I thought he was just a strange old man. On the way home my son pulled the talisman out of his pocket, laughed, and threw it into the gutter. He said he didn’t need free junk. I told him it was free, why throw it away. We were still talking about it when we reached the crossing."

Her voice had gone flat. The shop felt smaller.

"A truck lost control. It hit him. His bones broke. There was so much blood. People stood around talking, but no one called an ambulance in time. He died there on the road."

Lian felt something tighten in his chest. He just looked down at the floor.

"I was a single mother," she continued. "It was only the two of us. No one came to the funeral. After it was over I saw that same old man again. I ran at him. I was screaming that he killed my son by giving him that thing. I don’t even remember half of what I said. I was just angry."

She drew a slow breath. The sound was uneven.

"He looked at me and said, ’I saw dead spirits around him. Not one or two. A whole group. They only show themselves when someone’s time is close. I gave him the charm because I hoped it might change something. In the end it happened the way I feared.’"

The silence that followed felt thick.

"I knelt down in the rain and cried. When he started to walk away I called after him. I begged him to take me as his apprentice. I said I didn’t want other people to end up like my son. I wanted to be able to do something. He took me in. Taught me what he knew. When he died, he left me this shop."

She finally lifted her eyes. They were wet, but her voice stayed steady.

"That’s why I’m giving you these."

Lian stood there with his hands at his sides, not knowing what to do with them. The story sat heavy in the air between them. After a long moment he managed to say, quietly, "I’m sure your son is happy in heaven."

The old woman let out a short, tired sound that was almost a laugh.

"Yeah. He might be."

She held the beads out, along with a small folded paper talisman.

Lian hesitated for a moment . The beads looked ordinary in the weak light just dark wood, worn smooth. But the way she held them made them feel heavier than they should.

He reached out and took them. The wood was warm from her hand.