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Chapter Five: The Ghost of the Desolate Village
When I was young, I heard a story from the Three Aunts about a loving couple living in Shakou Village, Guangde City during the Daoguang period of the Qing Dynasty. The husband, Zhang Dezhi, was a scholar who studied diligently year-round. His wife, Huang, raised chickens and wove cloth to help support the household. The couple lived a simple yet content life.
One day, as the Autumn Examination approached, Zhang Dezhi prepared to travel to the capital for the exam. Although Huang was reluctant to see him go, she packed his belongings and tearfully sent him off at the village entrance.
Before leaving, Zhang Dezhi held his wife's hand and said affectionately, "I will be gone for a long time for this exam—at least three months, and at most six. I promise to return home. With the ongoing chaos and banditry outside, you must be very careful while I'm away."
Watching her husband leave, Huang managed the household alone as days turned into weeks. Before she knew it, autumn had passed and spring had arrived; over half a year had gone by without any sign of Zhang Dezhi. Huang grew increasingly worried but felt powerless and could only pray silently.
Finally, one evening at dusk, after feeding the chickens, Huang sat on a large stone at her doorstep, gazing into the distance. To her surprise, she saw a figure approaching. As it drew closer, she realized it was her husband.
Huang was overwhelmed with joy and tears as she looked at Zhang Dezhi, who appeared ragged and dirty. She couldn't help but complain slightly, "Why did you take so long to come back?" Despite her complaints, she rushed over to take his hand and lead him home.
"Oh dear, why are your hands so cold?" she exclaimed as she felt his icy grip. Startled, she quickly withdrew her hand.
"Don't mention it. On my way to the capital, I encountered bandits who robbed me of everything I had. I barely made it back after begging along the way; I'm starving and freezing," Zhang Dezhi replied with a look of despair.
"Just being back is good enough; money and fame are not everything," Huang said as she recited Amitabha's name. "Come home quickly; I'll make you some hot noodle soup to warm you up."
However, in the following days, Huang began to notice something strange. First, Zhang Dezhi left home before dawn every day and returned only after sunset, claiming he needed a quiet place to study hard for next year's examination. He even insisted on sleeping on the ground alone at night. Second, their chickens kept disappearing mysteriously; several times when they were found again, all that remained were bloody feathers.
One morning, Zhang Dezhi prepared to leave again with several books in hand. Huang hurriedly stopped him and said, "Dear husband, we lost another chicken yesterday."
"Let it go; we can buy more chicks later. We aren't short on money for a few chickens," he replied dismissively. Perhaps due to his early rising and late nights, Zhang Dezhi looked extremely haggard.
As he slowly walked away, Huang glanced at the four or five hens still left in the coop and devised a plan.
The next morning, Huang checked the coop again and indeed found another chicken missing. However, she noticed a long white cotton thread tied to one of its legs still dragging on the ground—a very thin line that blended into the dusty earth and was nearly invisible unless closely examined.
Following the thread, Huang walked further away from home until she reached the Mountain God Temple outside the village. She saw that one end of the cotton thread extended into the temple. Years of war had left the Mountain God Temple in ruins; dust fell like snowflakes as a breeze swept through.
Back home, Huang was filled with anxiety. One moment she thought that the Evil Spirit had seen through her plan and would consume her; the next, she worried about her husband, who was likely in danger, leaving her heartbroken.
When Zhang Dezhi returned, he did not go to sleep on the ground with his bedding as usual but instead looked at Huang in silence.
"What’s wrong?" Huang asked, fearing that the Evil Spirit might notice something amiss, trying to calm herself.
"I want to say, Daughter-in-law, you must take good care of yourself," Zhang Dezhi said, tears glistening in his eyes.
But in Huang's eyes, he still appeared as the Evil Spirit with bulging eyes and a gaping mouth. She hurriedly said, "It's so late; hurry up and sleep. We can talk tomorrow."
Zhang Dezhi seemed to have more to say but swallowed his words when he saw Huang get into bed.
The next day, before dawn, Zhang Dezhi woke up. Just as he was about to get out of bed, he suddenly realized he couldn't move. Looking around, he found that his hands and feet were bound by Leather Rope.
"What are you doing?" Zhang Dezhi asked upon seeing Huang standing beside him.
Huang remained silent and simply opened the door, looking down at the struggling Zhang Dezhi. "This rope has been soaked in water; you can't break free."
As the rooster crowed three times and a ray of morning light appeared on the horizon, shining through the open door, Zhang Dezhi stopped struggling and looked at Huang with a faint smile.
"It seems you already know my identity," Zhang Dezhi continued without waiting for Huang to respond. "That's right; I have become a ghost. On my way to take an exam, I was killed by a group of Bandits and my Corpse was thrown into the wilderness. However, I missed you so much that I took on human form again. But because I need to absorb Vital Energy, I have to occasionally consume some Chicken Blood."
As he spoke, sunlight fell upon the ghost's body, causing black smoke to rise.
Huang was stunned but quickly reacted and tried to close the door. However, Zhang Dezhi stopped her.
"It's useless. I am merely a soul; I will dissipate soon enough. After I'm gone, you must live well on your own. That way, I can rest easy underground."
After saying this, his entire form completely dissipated, leaving only a pile of black residue on the ground.
Huang was heartbroken and cried uncontrollably. At that moment, Sister Yang walked in from outside.
Looking at Sister Yang with a strange expression on her face, Huang suddenly thought of something and pointed at her, asking, "You, how do you know how to deal with ghosts? Who exactly are you?"
Sister Yang did not speak; her skin slowly began to rot, revealing a deep scar that ran from the corner of her mouth to her right eye. The flesh around the scar was rolling back, exposing the eerie white bone underneath. Her eye was gouged out, covered in blood, presenting a horrific sight.
"Ah!" Huang screamed, "You, don't come any closer." Yet the other person continued to slowly approach her, large drops of blood falling with a plop onto the Ground.
Suddenly recalling the earlier scene where she saw Sister Yang tearing at the shoe sole with her hands, and looking again at the terrifying scar on her face, Huang couldn't help but cry out, "I understand now, you were killed by blades and swords; you fear metal objects." Saying this, she hurriedly searched the room for scissors but couldn't find them anywhere for a moment.
Just as the Evil Spirit was about to reach her side, Huang suddenly remembered that she had hidden the scissors in a drawer. She rushed over, opened the drawer, and indeed saw the sharp scissors.
"You’re dead now, you Evil Spirit," Huang shouted as she picked up the scissors.
"Ah!" A scream escaped her lips as Huang accidentally dropped the scissors. Blisters formed on both of her hands from burns, and her flesh turned into a wisp of black smoke.
"How could this happen?" Huang looked at the scissors on the Ground, suddenly realizing something as a chill began to rise in her heart.
"You remember now," Sister Yang said expressionlessly.
Huang nodded and slowly said, "I remember. A few days after my man left home, a group of Bandits came to the village, robbing all our possessions and killing all the villagers. I was stabbed in the chest by one of the Bandits. I didn’t go to the Underworld because I was worried my man wouldn’t find me when he returned; instead, I transformed into human form and stayed here."
As she spoke, a wound the size of a bowl slowly appeared on Huang's chest, revealing her deep red heart which no longer beat. Blood flowed slowly from the wound, gathering on the Ground to form a small stream.
Gradually, both figures transformed into two wisps of black smoke and dissipated without leaving anything behind. Only that lingering sense of resentment floated above this now deserted village, unable to disperse for a long time.
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