Illustration: Liu Rui

By Shi Cheng

I'm an atheist. Although I do enjoy blowing off firecrackers at the New Year to drive off devils and faithfully burn fake paper money for my deceased grandpa during the Tomb Sweeping Day, I don't really believe in devils or ghosts.

To me, the firecrackers are an indispensable part of the celebration. And sweeping the tomb and praying that my grandpa can bless me is more for living than for the dead. It is comforting to know that if I'm dead some day, my family will visit me every year.

But faith has suddenly come to play a much more intrusive role in my life, thanks to my mother-in-law. She came to help us move into our new Beijing apartment after my wedding.

I loved this apartment as soon as I saw it. Every room had at least one window, and is so bright. The larger bedroom even had two windows, one to the west, the other to the north. From the 22nd floor I could look out over the sprawling city like a king.

But my mother-in-law soon put a halt to that. "There shouldn't be two windows in a bedroom!" she told me, citing supposed feng shui experts.

Even when I assured her the previous owner had told me a Hong Kong feng shui master had inspected the home and believed the two windows were okay, she still insisted. Workers sealed off the northern window before we moved in. No more regal view for me.

The same thing happened to my clock. Ever since high school, I've been used to waking up and checking the time on a clock on the opposite wall. But before we moved, my mother-in-law announced that that there would be no clock in the bedroom.

And she made me get rid of my old, familiar round clock, and put up a brand new clock, with a square frame, in our sitting room.

I don't know where she learned so many dos and don'ts. She seldom explains why and how these things work. I know she's simply trying every means not to offend the evil spirits.

Sometimes she even logs onto the Internet to check the mystical tips!

As many older Chinese people do, my mother-in-law picked a date she believed was the most auspicious for our moving. But when she talked with her more informed friends about it, she was told that actually people were not supposed to move before the weeks-long Spring Festival ends.

But we had to move on the set date. We simply couldn't wait any longer.

My mother-in-law found some solutions online to break the curse. When workers helped move everything out of our former residence, she stood at the door with a new broom, sweeping every bag and box. Finally she carried a bucket of water and an electronic fan to the truck, and asked the workers to unload the two items first when arriving at the new home.

My pregnant wife was advised by her mother not to show up during the move. Her father accompanied her to the new home in a separate taxi, and they were not allowed to come into the apartment until her mother had put down new sheets, pillows and covers on the bed.

I know she means well, and many of her rituals just add color and good wishes to the day. For instance, we prayed to the kitchen god before eating our first meal in the new apartment and offered him first pick of the food - before we ate it anyway.

But some of the practices are not really that fun. I was asked to get up by six to burn a string of firecrackers on the first day of the Chinese Lunar New Year.

The new round of firecrackers in the morning was meant to "open the gate of fortune" of this year, I was told. The street was so quiet when the firecrackers blew off - I bet at least a thousand people in the neighborhood must have been cursing.

I dream of hiring a million posters to flood online feng shui forums. That way, when my mother-in-law consults the Internet to find her rituals, she'll discover that a bedroom should have two windows, square clocks are forbidden, and you should never ask your son-in-law to get up before seven.

The author is a Beijing-based journalist. forum@globaltimes.com.cn