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Strange Affairs in the Shadows
墨書 Inktalez
The Yellow River can be said to have nurtured the civilization of Huaxia for five thousand years, and within it lie many secrets. How much do you know about the mysteries of the Yellow River? I grew up by its banks, and when I was seven years old, the river flooded. I was swept away, and my grandfather told me that when they pulled me out, I couldn't even speak and often cried at midnight.
Not only that, but our black dog barked at me all day long, causing quite a disturbance. In the days that followed, no matter what I ate, I never seemed to gain weight; instead, I kept losing it until I was nothing but skin and bones, barely breathing. Eventually, my grandfather even prepared for my funeral. According to the customs by the Yellow River, when someone dies, a shroud must be custom-made for them, whether they are an adult or a child. This symbolizes a clean and orderly departure.
In our village, clothing was made by Uncle Tiger, a skilled tailor who usually measured people for their garments. One day, Uncle Tiger came to our house to take my measurements. When he arrived, he looked to be around forty years old. He glanced at me and said, "Uncle Wang, this child’s time has not yet come. Although it will be difficult to save him, I can try." Upon hearing that there was hope for me, my grandfather immediately pleaded with Uncle Tiger to save me, insisting that even if there was only a slim chance, it was worth trying. He also asked Uncle Tiger what had caused my condition.
Uncle Tiger replied, "The child's soul should have remained in the Yellow River; it forgot to return." As he spoke, he carried me outside. My grandfather wanted to follow us, but Uncle Tiger said it wouldn't be appropriate with others present. He took me toward the riverbank and patted my back as he said, "Child, no matter what you see later, don’t be afraid." I nodded blankly in response.
We boarded a boat, and Uncle Tiger handed me an incense stick to hold in my mouth before lighting it. He instructed me that if the incense went out, I should let him know. I blinked to indicate that I understood as Uncle Tiger rowed us onto the river.
I remember that night the river was particularly calm; however, not long after we set out, waves suddenly erupted around our small boat, causing it to sway dangerously close to capsizing several times. Finally, I saw Uncle Tiger strike the side of the boat forcefully and shout loudly, "Anyone who doesn’t want to die should get the hell away!" With that shout from Uncle Tiger, the surface of the river indeed returned to calm.
I was stunned and wanted to ask Uncle Tiger what was happening. But since I had the incense in my mouth, it was difficult to speak; the incense continued burning outside my lips. The boat moved forward until a layer of black mist appeared ahead of us; the light from the lantern on board gradually became hazy.
At that moment, I seemed to see several dark figures floating past me. I rubbed my eyes but felt a tremor in my heart. At just seven or eight years old, it was impossible not to feel scared. Yet Uncle Tiger reassured me: "Child, we have now entered the territory of the Yellow River King; do not be afraid; everything will be fine with your uncle here."
The Yellow River King is akin to a deity residing within the river itself and is worshipped by local residents. At this point, I could see more and more dark figures walking on the water's surface—a truly terrifying sight. I held my breath.
Uncle Tiger then took out a dagger and quickly pricked his middle finger until blood oozed out. He dipped his hand into the river water; within moments, that section of water suddenly surged into towering waves. Our boat felt like a leaf tossed about on tumultuous waters; several times I nearly fell overboard but was saved by Uncle Tiger’s grip.
"Yellow River King," Uncle Tiger called out, "this child is still young—only seven years old—please grant him mercy and let him go." However, despite his plea, the turbulence on the water showed no signs of abating; if anything, it intensified.
Uncle Tiger instructed me to hold on tightly to the side of the boat. Terrified as I was, strangely enough, no matter how violently the water crashed against us, the incense in my mouth never extinguished. "Child, wait here for me," he said before jumping into the water.
After about five minutes of chaos on the surface of the river began to calm down slowly; just then, I noticed that my incense was about to burn out completely—but Uncle Tiger still hadn’t returned. Anxious as I was with no way to help him or myself in that situation suddenly saw a hand grasping onto our boat's edge; my heart leaped into my throat.
I nearly cried out in fear when suddenly I heard a familiar voice: "It’s me, child." It was Uncle Tiger emerging from beneath the water—his entire body drenched in blood and looking quite tragic; I almost screamed in fright.
Yet Uncle Tiger urged me to stay quiet while he struggled to row us back while calling out my name repeatedly. My name is Wang Niu; he kept shouting it all along until we reached shore just as my incense finally extinguished. Quick as lightning, Uncle Tiger reached out and snuffed out what remained of its flame before forcing it into my mouth—I cried out in pain as it burned inside me—but soon after felt a surge of strength returning within.
"Wang Niu," Uncle Tiger instructed me firmly but gently as he helped me regain composure. "You must go home alone tonight and not speak of what happened here with anyone else." Watching him like this made me want to escort him home too; however, he insisted otherwise and returned to his boat saying there were still matters left unresolved.
I stumbled home alone under cover of nightfall; when my grandfather saw me return at dawn's first light he embraced me tightly while asking countless questions which I answered one by one—yet remembering Uncle Tiger’s warning kept me from revealing anything unnecessary.
Strangely enough after returning from the Yellow River with Uncle Tiger by my side—I felt like something had clicked within me; where once speaking had been difficult for an entire day now words flowed freely from my lips while my appetite increased significantly—my health began improving rapidly.
Seeing this transformation brought immense joy to my grandfather who couldn’t stop smiling with delight. He even took me along to thank Uncle Tiger for saving my life—but when we arrived at his door he refused to see us.
It wasn’t until seven nights later that Uncle Tiger finally came back to visit us—his face pale and his spirit seemingly diminished compared to before. My grandfather immediately pulled me down onto our knees upon seeing him saying: "Wang Niu! This life is given back to you by Uncle Tiger—remember this."
Uncle Tiger waved his hand dismissively saying there was no need for such formalities before sitting down while my grandfather hurried off to prepare food for him—simple rural fare being considered best for expressing gratitude—but throughout dinner Uncle Tiger didn’t touch his chopsticks at all despite repeated offers from my grandfather urging him otherwise.
Then unexpectedly he turned towards my grandfather asking: "If you don’t mind me asking—does your family have any enemies?"
This question caught my grandfather off guard momentarily as if he hadn’t anticipated such an inquiry from Uncle Tiger but quickly replied: "What enemies could we possibly have?"
Uncle Tiger muttered under his breath: "If there are no enemies then that would indeed be strange."
He then stood up saying: "May I take a look around your home?"
Though puzzled by this request my grandfather simply nodded allowing him free reign over our modest dwelling which consisted of three small rooms facing south—not large enough for much exploration—and as I followed behind him watching closely—Uncle Tiger surveyed every corner before uttering something chilling.
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