Chapter One: Seeking Spirits

My name is Lin Xuan, from Chongqing, born in Linjiawan Village. The village is neither big nor small, with just over a thousand people and about a hundred households. For as long as I can remember, I have never seen my father. My mother took little interest in me and, after I began elementary school, married someone else, leaving me in the care of my grandparents. My grandfather is named Lin Boxu, my grandmother is Su Lan. They treated me well—sharing the best food with me first and often taking me to catch birds and crabs. However, my grandfather harbored a deep dislike for my mother, though I never learned the reason.

Strangely, I’ve been able to see all sorts of ghosts since I was a child. Once, while at home, I saw a ghost with a blood-red face standing by the window. Terrified, I called for my grandfather. He looked out the window, left and right, but saw nothing. He turned to scold me, “You brat, always making things up! There are no ghosts. You’ve watched too many horror movies, haven’t you?”

Seeing that he didn’t believe me, I grew anxious, shaking my head like a rattle drum and trying to explain, but he wouldn’t listen. He threatened, “If you keep talking nonsense, I’ll make you sleep in the pigsty for a night. Try me if you don’t believe it.” Maybe my antics had finally exasperated him. When I saw him angry, I fell silent, hugging my knees on the edge of the bed and staring out the window. The ghost stared back at me for a long time, then suddenly let out a gloomy laugh and vanished.

After that, I became infamous in the village as the boy who lied. Some children even called me the King of Liars. Whenever they did, I’d rush to argue with them, and naturally, I often ended up with bruises. There was nothing I could do—I couldn’t outfight them or outtalk them. For the next few years, I endured their ridicule in silence.

Everything changed one day after I graduated from elementary school, which coincided with my twelfth birthday. Pangdun, Tiezhu, and a few other friends came to my house, shouting as they entered the courtyard, “Liar King! Liar King! Come out—we’re taking you to a fun place!” They doubled over with laughter in the yard.

Hearing the commotion, my grandmother came to the door and scolded them, “You boys, stop shouting. If you can’t call someone by their real name, I’ll have to teach you some manners—maybe your parents haven’t made it clear enough.” My grandparents held some authority in the village. People said that whenever something strange happened in the past, they’d always call my grandfather to handle it. He told me stories from his youth, describing my grandmother as one of the three great beauties of the Republic era, though I was too young to understand.

Pangdun and the others, startled to see my grandmother at the door, took a few steps back. They stammered, “Uh… Granny Su, is Lin Xuan home? My mom said it’s his birthday, so we wanted to ask him out to play, if that’s okay.”

Grandmother looked at me, sitting at the table writing, and called my name. I turned to see Pangdun and the others. I’d already heard their loud calls but hadn’t planned to go out with them.

I walked over to my grandmother, who patted my head and said, “Xuan’er, it’s your birthday today. I don’t have much to give you, so go out and play for a while. Come back early for dinner—your favorite dishes are waiting. Don’t stay out too late.” Then she turned to Pangdun and his friends, “And you boys, stop picking on others. The most important thing is to have fun together, not to bully anyone. Understand?”

My grandparents knew about the nickname I’d been given and that it led to frequent arguments. Whenever they spoke to the boys’ parents, those parents would only laugh it off—“Kids will be kids—they don’t know any better, don’t take it to heart.”

My grandfather, however, would not accept this, his temper flaring. “What do you mean, kids don’t know better? If your children don’t, do you? This is a new era—are you still raising them with outdated ideas? If you won’t discipline your kids, I will. Don’t blame me if things get physical!”

The parents, embarrassed, would nod but dared not contradict Grandfather. He was just that domineering. After my grandparents had words with Pangdun’s parents, things improved a little, though not much.

Standing by my grandmother, I glanced at Pangdun and the others, then back at her. I nodded, put away my writing, and followed them outside.

Once out of the yard, Pangdun muttered, “Don’t think I’m really afraid of your grandparents. You still have to call me boss, got it?” I ignored him and kept walking. Honestly, I hadn’t wanted to come out at all—I was just tired from writing and needed a break. I didn’t expect to be trailed by a mosquito.

As his nickname suggests, Pangdun was chubby. Seeing me ignore him, he grew awkward and rolled up his sleeves, as if to hit me. Maybe I inherited my grandfather’s temper, because I wasn’t the least bit afraid of his size—after all, I’d gotten used to it over the years.

Tiezhu quickly pulled Pangdun back, saying, “Are you crazy? If Lin Xuan’s grandparents see you, your parents will kill you. We’ve all been picking on him for years—aren’t you tired of it? Why can’t we just play nicely together?”

Sanbao and Gouwa nodded in agreement. “Yeah, Pangdun, don’t bully Lin Xuan.”

Hearing his friends side against him, Pangdun dropped his fist. Gouwa pulled me back, and things calmed down. We walked on for a while until Sanbao suddenly said, “Hey, do you guys know there’s a house behind the village?”

We all shook our heads, puzzled. Sanbao continued, “I heard from others—there’s a house back there that seems abandoned. People say it’s terrifying at night. How about this: let’s play a game. Tonight, we’ll get a group together and see who’s brave enough to go there. Whoever chickens out treats everyone to candy tomorrow. Are you in?”

Pangdun and the others immediately perked up and agreed. But I shook my head, “No, I have to go home for dinner, and we’re just kids—without adults, what’s the point?”

Before I’d finished, Pangdun mocked me, “We’re not asking you to go right now. Besides, you say you can see ghosts—prove it! If you’re scared, just stay home and stop playing with us.”

My pride stung, I replied coldly, “Fine, I’ll go. You think I’m scared? Just don’t embarrass yourself.”

Tiezhu cut in, “Alright, enough arguing. We’re all from the same village—a big family. The teacher said we should help each other. Lin Xuan, we’ll come get you tonight. Don’t fall asleep!”

We wandered the village a bit longer, but the awkwardness between Pangdun and me lingered, so we each went home. As soon as I entered the yard, I saw Grandfather sitting outside, smoking. Seeing my unhappy expression, he said, “Back already? Wash your hands, dinner’s ready. It’s your birthday—cheer up. Today, you’re in charge. Do whatever you want.”

His gentle words made me smile. I nodded and hopped into the kitchen. At the sink, I saw Grandmother in her apron, frying dishes. She saw me and said, “Wash up, it’s time to eat. Where’s your grandfather? Go call him.”

I grinned, “He’s in the yard. No need to call—he sent me in to wash up.”

She glanced at me while cooking, “What’s got you so happy?”

“It’s my birthday. Having you both with me makes me happy,” I answered.

She shook her head, smiling, and once the dishes were ready, brought them to the table. I ran over and saw all my favorite foods, including drunken crab. I licked my lips and grabbed a crab, devouring it. Grandmother laughed, “Slow down, Xuan’er. It’s all yours, no one’s going to take it.”

Grandfather joined in, “That’s right. I bought these just for you. No rush—take your time. You’re twelve now.”

With a crab leg in my mouth, I looked at my grandparents. They hadn’t touched their chopsticks, just watched me eat. Suddenly, a wave of sadness welled up inside. For the past twelve years, except for the earliest days I can’t remember, my grandparents had always been the ones to celebrate my birthday with me. My mother never cared, and my father was nowhere to be found.

Choked up, I put two pieces of crab in their bowls and swallowed my food. “Grandpa, Grandma, you eat too. There’s too much for me alone.”

They exchanged a glance and smiled even more. Grandfather said, “Good boy, you’re growing up. Come on, let’s eat.”

He took a sip of baijiu and started on his meal. We ate together, finishing everything on the table. When Grandmother gathered the dishes, I offered to take them to the kitchen, but she stopped me, “Leave them. I’ll wash up. It’s your birthday—go watch some TV.”