Chapter Eleven: The Origin of Calamity

I could not resist my father. If I refused to enter the room as he told me, he would surely have kicked me straight inside. There was nothing I could do but return to my room.

Sitting on the bed, exhaustion began to seep through my body.

So much had happened nonstop before, I hadn’t really felt anything. But now, fatigue overwhelmed me, and I wanted nothing more than to collapse into sleep.

Once that thought took hold, it was impossible to suppress. My father had begun to suspect Old Liu from the White Matters, and when I suggested going to Wang Erjun’s house, he wouldn’t let me go either. Did he intend to go himself?

My mind wandered with these wild thoughts, the exhaustion growing heavier. I could no longer resist the drowsiness and collapsed onto the bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

I don't know how long I slept, but a strange sense of oppression lingered. Though I slept, it was as if my consciousness remained awake.

I even felt as if someone was sitting beside me…

“Father?”

I wanted to speak, felt my mouth open, but no sound came out. An unpleasant scent of incense and candle wax drifted into my nostrils.

Was someone burning ghost money in my room? Or was it burning somewhere in the courtyard, and the smell had drifted in?

I struggled more, an unexplainable fear making me desperate to wake up.

But the more I struggled, the less able I was to awaken.

I don’t know how long I fought it, but just as despair threatened to overwhelm me, I was finally able to open my eyes.

A face covered in age spots, with cloudy, unfathomable eyes, stared straight into mine.

Terror seized me, and I wanted to scream.

But a rough hand covered my mouth.

All the strength seemed to drain from my body, and I sank once again into a nightmarish state, as if a ghost pressed upon my chest…

“Is this a dream? Or is it real?”

Old Liu from the White Matters was actually sitting right beside me!

I wanted to struggle, but I had not a trace of strength left.

Drowsiness came over me, and my thoughts slowly faded away.

Warm sunlight shone on my face. I opened my eyes with difficulty, as if waking from a deep slumber, all my exhaustion vanished.

The room was already flooded with sunlight.

A chill ran down my spine as I recalled last night’s dream.

I sat bolt upright in bed, glancing all around at the floor.

There was no sign of ghost money or incense.

I quickly walked to the door and flung it open. Aunt Hui was sitting in the courtyard, head bent, folding paper ingots.

At the entrance of the woodshed sat an iron basin, filled with the black ashes of burnt offerings.

Was the smell I noticed last night from Aunt Hui burning things?

But what about Old Liu from the White Matters…

I didn’t know if I’d had a case of sleep paralysis or truly seen something supernatural.

“You’re awake, Xie Yuan… There’s porridge in the kitchen, go have some.”

Aunt Hui glanced up at me and said, “We’re not leaving home today. Your father kept vigil all night, but your grandfather never returned. The headman’s family hasn’t shown up either. Eat something, then go back and rest.”

A wave of unease swept through me; I could clearly hear the fatigue in Aunt Hui’s voice. Old Liu from the White Matters hadn’t returned, so it must have been a dream last night.

But if he didn’t return, this whole matter couldn’t be explained away in the village.

A few rumors, and it would be taken as fact.

Besides… why didn’t he return?

Were the villagers’ suspicions all true, then?

Aunt Hui was in a bad mood, so I said nothing more and went to the kitchen, where I filled a large bowl with porridge and drank it down.

Only once my stomach was full did I feel fully awake.

Beside the kitchen was the woodshed, where a faint stench of corpses lingered, bringing back the nausea of the previous night.

Clutching my chest, I hurried into the courtyard for fresh air.

After a few deep breaths, I glanced at Aunt Hui. She was still out of sorts, so I could only return to my room.

Lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, a strange feeling gnawed at me.

Was the last survivor from the headman’s family really still alive?

Such a calamity had struck our home, yet he never appeared. Had he gone to the county and not returned?

Or had he already died…

Had the villagers dragged his corpse away?

I recalled the look Old Liu gave me and Wang Erjun at the end—cold dread shivered through me.

Just then, someone’s voice suddenly rang out nearby—loud and agitated.

My heart pounded as I jumped from the bed.

Running out to the courtyard, I saw Aunt Hui had already opened the gate.

I hurried after her, only to see a crowd of villagers coming down the road, their faces twisted with anger.

I was startled, thinking they were coming for our house.

But they strode right past our gate and headed straight for Wang Erjun’s home.

Aunt Hui’s face was dark.

Among the crowd, someone shouted at me, “Xie Yuan, hurry and wake Old Xie! Old Liu from the White Matters was wrongly accused of arson! The real culprit has been found!”

I was completely bewildered.

They’d found the culprit? So quickly?

But why were they going to Wang Erjun’s house?

Our home was close to his, and I could see a large crowd had surrounded his gate.

“Xie Yuan, go see what’s happening—I’ll wake your father!” Aunt Hui called anxiously.

Even if she hadn’t told me, I couldn’t have stayed put.

I dashed out the door and hurried to Wang Erjun’s house.

In less than a minute, I arrived outside.

The crowd was so thick I had to push with all my might just to reach the front.

The old village secretary stood at the head of the crowd, leaning on a cane.

But the scene before me made my face drain of color and a chill run through my heart.

Wang Erjun’s father.

Carpenter Wang was dead.

His corpse knelt half-upright on the ground, and on his back clung another corpse.

It was the youngest son of the headman’s family.

His face was ashen, his eyes wide open in death, refusing to close.

His mouth gaped open, locked in a death grip on Carpenter Wang’s neck.

Even now, with Carpenter Wang long dead, flesh was still caught in his mouth, not yet spat out—Carpenter Wang had been bitten to death.

I collapsed to the ground with a thud.

Others who’d arrived late were as frightened as I was, asking the earlier arrivals what happened—how had the headman’s youngest son died, and why had he bitten Carpenter Wang to death?

Someone replied, “Can’t you see? Carpenter Wang was probably the arsonist. This morning, everyone went to clean up the headman’s house looking for clues, found the money and valuables gone. At first, they thought it’d all burned up, but then in the courtyard, they saw signs the earth had been dug. When they dug it up, they found one of Carpenter Wang’s axes, covered in blood.”

“Everyone rushed over here and found the two bodies. Look at the wound on the headman’s youngest son’s waist—isn’t that from an axe?”

“It’s clear Carpenter Wang started the fire. The headman’s youngest son caught him, so he killed him with the axe, then set the fire to kill the rest. Why else do you think he didn’t come help put out the fire yesterday afternoon?”

“Carpenter Wang probably never imagined that the one he killed would return from the dead for revenge!”

I gritted my teeth and said, “No one knows anything for sure yet, don’t jump to conclusions…”

That man glared at me, “Xie Yuan, are you crazy? You never spoke up when your own family was being accused, but now the culprit’s found, you don’t believe it? Isn’t it obvious? Why would the headman’s youngest son go after anyone else except the one who killed him?”

“And Wang Erjun is missing—he’s probably run off by now.”

A chill ran through my heart. How could this have been Carpenter Wang’s doing? He’d already left the village by then.

And where had Wang Erjun gone? His father was dead—had something happened to him as well?

I regretted not coming to find him last night.

Just then, a few strong young men emerged from Wang Erjun’s house, carrying a pile of items on their backs.

Outside, they dumped them out with a clatter.

A small heap of copper coins, several gold bars, and the rest was valuable jewelry.

“I recognize some of these pieces! They belong to the headman’s family!”

The old village secretary’s face was dark as iron. He said in a low voice, “Separate the bodies first.”

Two men stepped forward to pull the corpses apart.

But the headman’s youngest son still clung to Carpenter Wang’s neck, his teeth locked so tightly they could not be pried loose.

The old village secretary continued grimly, “Never thought Carpenter Wang would be so greedy. As for Wang Erjun, who knows when he ran—if anyone sees him, catch him immediately! Any household that dares to hide him is as guilty as the rest!”

Suddenly, the old village secretary turned and stared straight at me.