Chapter Nine: The Interrogation

My father's face stiffened for a moment.

The wrinkles on the village secretary's face were all squeezed together as he squinted and said, "The funeral at Zhuangshi's house was arranged by him; he spent money meant for the dead, and it was he who said so. If he has nothing to hide, why hasn't he shown his face after such a big incident? Why would he sneak in when everyone is gone, unless he's come to see if everyone's been burned alive?"

These words immediately stirred the crowd of villagers into an uproar.

Previously, many believed the village chief's refusal to let my father enter was a heartless act, unbecoming of a son, and that Liu the Funeral Man was possibly the culprit who had stolen life years.

Then, seeing the village chief's family repeatedly coming into unexpected wealth, their envy was barely contained.

Yet Liu the Funeral Man refused to advise anyone, which only fueled gossip behind his back.

Now, given the chance, the things people said were venomous.

"I think the fire wasn't the village chief's father returning for vengeance, it was set by Liu the Funeral Man! He definitely stole life years, tricked the village chief into barring his father on the seventh day after death, just to cover up what he'd done!"

"Exactly! Either he didn't appease the village chief's father's spirit properly, or he stole life years and harmed the whole family! He doesn't want the truth exposed. Keeping someone like him in the village is a disaster!"

"Throw him into the river! Let him accompany the village chief's family in death!"

The villagers grew ever more agitated.

The veins bulged on my father's face as he roared, "Nonsense! You people, don't think your thoughts go unnoticed! Aren't you afraid such heartless words will keep you awake at night?"

"If Liu the Funeral Man did such things, and you took the village chief's land, aren't you afraid their family's ghosts will come knocking at night?"

Someone said this, though I couldn't tell who.

My father's body wavered.

Wang Erjun's father stood nearby, sweat pouring down his plump face; he wanted to speak but retreated.

I clenched my fists tightly, originally intending to step forward and argue.

Yet, deep inside, I found myself agreeing with what the villagers said.

Of course, not with killing Liu the Funeral Man, but if he was guilty, he should be driven out of the village.

And if he wasn't, why didn't he show up now?

Just then, Aunt Hui rushed to my father's side, trembling as she supported him.

Suddenly, she raised her hand and pointed at a villager, her voice quivering, "Liu Dagen, last year your father passed away, and you couldn't even afford a coffin. My father went overnight to Wang's Village and brought one back so your father could be buried. He arranged your father's funeral and didn't ask for a single penny! After saying what you just did, does your conscience not trouble you?"

The man Aunt Hui pointed at, Liu Dagen, was the one who had suggested throwing Liu the Funeral Man into the river.

He looked to be in his forties, dirty-faced and gaunt.

"And you, Wang Xiufen—didn't you come to my father, asking him how to profit from the dead? You said your mother was over seventy, near her end, and her death didn't matter. My father refused to help you, so now you slander him? Your malice is beyond words!"

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Wang Xiufen, a woman in her forties or fifties with a barrel-shaped waist and a face covered in spots, was flustered, shouting back at Aunt Hui, "You're lying! Watch your tongue or I'll tear it out!"

Aunt Hui ignored her completely.

Her face was twisted with a kind of furious madness.

"And all of you! All of you! Whenever the village needed a road built or a shrine raised, my father contributed both labor and money. Just because he handles funerals, you think he's unlucky?"

"Which family hasn't lost someone? Whether it's our village or the neighboring ones, who hasn't had my father and me running day and night for their funerals? Why is it, when something else happens, you refuse to let him go?"

"Let me make it clear: just now my father was here! He brought the village chief's father's belongings! The dead weren't allowed to enter, so at most the village chief's family bears the stigma of being unfilial! My father loses virtue for this and will suffer in the afterlife, his tongue cut out in a cauldron of oil! No one wants trouble for the village chief's family, but he brought their relics so the spirit could see and then reincarnate! You understand nothing, only chasing shadows! Because it's not illegal to kill with words, you don't think you'll pay for it?"

"Believe it or not, I'll die here today, then come for each of you in your homes for vengeance!"

By the end, Aunt Hui's eyes were red as she pulled a large pair of scissors from her pocket and pressed them to her own throat.

My father was terrified, yelling, "Wife, don't do anything crazy! Please, don't!"

The old village secretary's mouth shook with fear, rendered speechless.

The first to be scolded, Liu Dagen and Wang Xiufen, quietly slipped away.

The other villagers whispered among themselves, but none spoke up again.

Aunt Hui glared at the old village secretary and said, "If my father stole life years or harmed anyone, being struck dead by lightning would be my own retribution, and he wouldn't escape punishment. Old village secretary, you're nearly eighty—can you sleep at night knowing you've wronged a good man?"

The old village secretary's face was stormy as he replied, "This matter needs a solution. Zhuangshi's family of six now has five lying here."

Aunt Hui gritted her teeth. "My husband said it: there's one missing, meaning someone survived. If they're not inside, maybe they went out. When the village chief or his sons return, we'll see who they've quarreled with recently or in the past. That person might be the killer!"

"The killer can't be the village chief's father; the seventh day after death has long passed. If he's a ghost, he's just a resentful spirit unable to enter the door. He couldn't possibly have killed anyone. Besides, my father always watched over him."

The old village secretary was silent for a while, then said, "All right, since you said so, we'll wait. But your words aren't conclusive; unless Liu the Funeral Man explains himself, the suspicion can't be cleared. Whether it was a ghost or not, we can't judge in a few sentences."

With that, he turned and walked toward his home.

The other villagers quickly dispersed.

Wang Erjun's father didn't speak to my father, head down as he passed by.

When he reached me, he grabbed Erjun's arm and hurried home.

Wang Erjun's face was pale as he glanced at me, trembling, but said nothing.

Aunt Hui finally lowered the scissors and collapsed to the ground, sobbing.

Hearing her words, I felt a pang inside.

Had Liu the Funeral Man really done so much for the village?

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I had never heard any of this...

The villagers' silence meant it had to be true.

My heart grew ever more conflicted.

My suspicions were becoming less reasonable; after all, this was also my family's affair.

If I joined the others in doubting him, wouldn't I be undermining my own family?

My father seemed to age a decade in moments, kneeling to embrace Aunt Hui, his voice hoarse, "Stop crying. They can't wrong our family."

"Whoever set the fire can't escape. Hundreds of eyes in the village, and there's still a survivor in the village chief's family. When he returns, everything will become clear."

Aunt Hui kept sobbing; I even saw blood flowing from a wound on her neck.

My father forced her to stand, finally calming her as she shakily pressed her hand to her throat.

"Xie Yuan, come here."

Suddenly my father called me.

I had stood so long my legs were numb; as I walked over, I nearly stumbled.

Standing before him, my voice was hoarse as I said, "Aunt Hui, your neck is bleeding."

She wiped her tears, pressing her neck, and said it was nothing—she wouldn't die.

A look of pain flashed in my father's eyes as he cursed, "They're nothing but ingrates."

Then he looked at me, his voice rough, "We can't leave the bodies lying here. Carry them to our home..."

My knees went weak, thinking I'd misheard.

"Dad, what did you say... bring the bodies to our house?"

Aunt Hui's expression changed as well.

My father gasped, "If we don't, the house is burned to ash. Tonight it might collapse and bury them all. Do you think the gawkers will care? If we leave the bodies here, who knows whose dog might come and tear them apart."

"If we've done nothing wrong, we're not afraid of ghosts knocking. We took the village chief's land, so we must guard the bodies. When the survivor returns, everything must be made clear. We can't bear this reputation!"

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