Chapter Forty-Nine: Ghostly Tales

Granny Li nodded.

My heart began pounding wildly.

All the graves of the villagers lay on the hill behind the village, and naturally my mother's did too. I’d only worshipped her when I was very young; after my father married Gray Aunt and my grandparents moved out, I never went again.

Grandpa Wang had told me when we first met that my mother had been a formidable spirit medium. Even while pregnant with me, she was able to handle the ghost-woman whom neither he nor Granny Li could deal with. But she paid a price for it. Even at the threshold of death, she hadn’t gone straight to reincarnation; instead, her soul lingered in loneliness within her grave, waiting for the momentous event in Hundred House Village.

So many years have passed, and apart from my mother’s gentle demeanor, I can barely remember her face.

Wang Erjun looked bewildered for a moment. “Why are we going to the back hill? Is someone else there who can help us deal with them? But Grandpa Wang, didn’t you say there are no living people left in Hundred House Village? And we can’t trust any ghosts, so what could possibly help us?”

My heart skipped a beat. Wang Erjun didn’t know about my mother. Granny Li and Grandpa Wang had never told him.

Granny Li reached out to touch Wang Erjun’s head. “Chubby boy, there are some things you wouldn’t understand even if we told you, so don’t ask so many questions. Just stay close behind Granny and Grandpa Wang. Granny worries about you most of all—steady your heart, don’t let hatred cloud your mind.”

Wang Erjun lowered his head, clearly suppressing his confusion.

I hesitated, then quietly asked, “Grandpa Wang, Granny, it shouldn’t be a problem to tell Erjun, right?”

I worried that hiding these things—things that hardly counted as secrets—from Wang Erjun might breed resentment. He already bore hatred against those old ghosts, with even deeper enmity toward Liu of the White Funerals. If he became estranged from us, he might do something foolish.

Grandpa Wang nodded. “Let’s explain here. Little Flower didn’t say much earlier because she wanted to hurry into the village. Once we’re inside, we can’t talk freely. These ghosts have sharp ears. You’ve been away for days; we don’t know what it’s like in there now.”

My heart clenched. So that was why Granny Li hadn’t said anything. I was somewhat relieved—if I’d waited until we were inside to tell Erjun quietly, some ghost might overhear, and Liu of the White Funerals would be prepared. That would mean even greater trouble.

A hint of joy appeared in Wang Erjun’s eyes, and his heavy expression eased considerably.

I took a deep breath and recounted what Grandpa Wang had told me about my mother. Of course, I didn’t delve into the details about the ghost-woman—just briefly explained that my mother had confronted her, suffered injuries, and died a few years after giving birth to me.

I explained in detail how my mother’s soul remained after her death.

Wang Erjun stared at me in a daze, muttering, “Your mother could handle the ghost-woman, and she’s been dead twenty years without reincarnating. None of you have worshipped her—how lonely she must be.”

I couldn’t even force a smile.

On the matter of worshipping my mother, my father was already heartless and faithless, and I was utterly unfilial.

Erjun realized his words hurt me and quickly changed the subject. “Granny, Grandpa Wang, let’s go into the village. I’ll stick close to you. If the village ghosts aren’t wiped out, it doesn’t count as avenging my father. Liu of the White Funerals must pay, but I won’t do anything foolish and throw my life away early.”

Grandpa Wang nodded and said quietly, “Xie Yuan and I will lead. Little Flower, you take Erjun and follow behind. Let’s avoid delays and go straight to the rear hill.”

I walked up beside Grandpa Wang, and Erjun followed Granny Li behind us.

We’d lingered at the village entrance for a long time.

Inside, the “people” were still repeating their actions, ignoring us completely.

Grandpa Wang stepped into the village.

He was just a little ahead of me, and as soon as he entered, his figure vanished from my sight.

I tensed and hurried after him. In an instant, his figure reappeared in my line of vision. I pressed close, not daring to fall behind.

Just moments earlier, the sun had blazed overhead, but now the sky was bleak and dim, as if day no longer existed.

Within the village, not a single ray of sunlight shone. All around was silent, not a sound to be heard. It was nothing like the lively scene we'd glimpsed from outside.

The village road was deserted, not a soul in sight.

That old peach tree now showed no trace of age. Its leaves were lush, peach blossoms pink and vibrant, full of life—forming a stark contrast with the deathly stillness of the village.

Granny Li and Wang Erjun entered as well. Granny Li’s bamboo of the underworld suddenly came together, that strange cloth she carried now gathered up. It looked like coarse hemp, but with incomprehensible patterns woven onto it.

As she raised it, I felt the cold around us intensify several times over, making me shiver uncontrollably.

“The bamboo and shroud are saturated with the energy of the underworld. As long as we carry them, ordinary ghosts won’t dare approach—they’ll think we’re fierce, murderous spirits. Especially the sinister energy from the pig-killing knife—it scares off ghost beasts and can wound ghosts, giving us a great advantage.”

I finally understood—the pig-killing knife wasn’t just for Erjun’s vengeance, but useful for all of us.

We moved quickly into the village. Aside from Grandpa Wang’s initial explanation, he said nothing more, which made me uneasy; as we walked the village road, we saw not a single ghost, nor any obstacles. It was as if Hundred House Village had emptied out.

Could it be that Liu of the White Funerals hadn’t found the underworld fetus or my father yet, and the evil ghosts hadn’t reincarnated, so they were still searching, leaving the village deserted?

Liu of the White Funerals could control the village chief’s family, and Old Zhou—in all likelihood, he controlled the other ghosts too.

No obstacles was a blessing; it meant we could reach the rear hill as quickly as possible.

Grandpa Wang’s pace was swift—not at all like an old man in his twilight years.

The village road was gloomy, and white cloth strips hung from the trees lining it. The doorways of villagers’ homes were draped with white mourning ribbons.

This was unmistakably a road for the dead.

The path to the rear hill passed in front of my home.

Soon, we walked past my house and reached the garbage heap where the wild cats used to gather. On the ground, traces of black cat fur and blood from their escape were still visible.

Even after several days, the blood hadn’t dried.

Passing the earth temple, the ground was littered with flower cat corpses, now reduced to just a small fraction. The rest had been taken by Erjun’s father to save us.

Erjun’s body stiffened noticeably, but he said nothing, keeping his head down as he followed us.

As we drew closer to the rear hill, my heart began racing.

Soon, I would see my mother—

But just then, Grandpa Wang suddenly stopped.

He turned to look behind us.

My heart thudded again, and I turned as well.

A vaguely familiar figure stood crookedly beside the earth temple.

It was Wang Chong—Mr. Wang!

Mr. Wang looked sickly pale. He waved at us, voice faint with fear, “Granny, Xie Yuan, don’t go up the hill!”

Granny Li’s expression changed instinctively. “Wang Chong? Why are you here?”

“Hurry over! Don’t go up the hill—something’s up there!”

Mr. Wang’s terror deepened.

Wang Erjun suddenly walked toward him.

Granny Li grabbed Erjun’s shoulder, stopping him.

Cold sweat broke out on my forehead as I stared at Mr. Wang.

He was still crouching behind the earth temple, his face cautious and evasive. “Come quickly, don’t go up the mountain, there’s something here—”

I didn’t understand why Mr. Wang had returned—he’d been unwilling to help me before.

But here he was, appearing in Hundred House Village.

I could already see beneath him, a corpse lay sprawled—

Just then, Grandpa Wang said, “Chubby boy, Little Flower, Xie Yuan, don’t mind him. We’re going up.”

Mr. Wang’s fear increased. “Are you crazy? Get down, you’ll wake it!”

I felt a chill run deeper.

Mr. Wang’s words couldn’t be trusted.

Because beneath him, that corpse—