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墨書 Inktalez
As Autumn Break came to an end, November arrived. For nearly half a year, Hu Ruoyun received sample issues and remittance slips from Story Collection every month. Depending on the word count of each issue, the amounts on the remittance slips varied from over forty to more than sixty yuan.
Each time Hu Ruoyun went to the Gaoqiao Town Post Office to cash the remittance slip, Mao Jie’s sister, Mao Na, would praise him and often invite him and Mao Jie to their home for dinner. Hu Ruoyun could tell that Mao Na's compliments were genuine, and her invitations were sincere.
Over the past thirty years, he had witnessed too many ups and downs of human emotions. As the saying goes, "Those who walk in the dark of winter understand the value of sunshine!" Hu Ruoyun felt a heartfelt gratitude towards this classmate's sister. At the same time, he increasingly wanted to impress this girl who was three or four years older than him.
In his envisioned future, he remembered writing a book titled "Taboos and Legends from Childhood in the Countryside," based on stories he had heard as a child, but it had been left unfinished for various reasons. Now he was taking it out and splitting it up to submit to Story Collection!
These stories were quite ordinary, tales he had heard countless times in his childhood, passed down with an air of mystery. The first one was about the Bag Spirit, a legend punishing those who steal.
In his childhood rural village, there was no electricity or cultural activities; listening to the elders tell stories in the Livestock Shed was the greatest entertainment. The stories contained taboos, rules, customs, as well as supernatural creatures and ghostly legends.
Due to the lack of electricity, unless there was a full moon, nights in the village were pitch black. The endless darkness evoked many fears and imaginations. Hujiazhuang Village was relatively large, divided into front and back streets. The front street and back street were connected by narrow alleys that were often deep and dark with many legends.
The yard of Second Aunt’s house was located deep within one such alley, where it was said there was a Bag Spirit lurking against the outer wall. Anyone passing by at night would often find a large cloth bag leaning against the wall. In those days of scarcity, there were always those tempted by greed. Elders would recount tales of how someone’s distant relative saw no one around and joyfully took the bag only to find it growing heavier with each step until they collapsed under its weight.
When found later lying in a grave circle in the wild, they would be exhausted and sore all over—a fitting punishment for their greed. Different elders told different versions of who had suffered this fate, but each spoke with great familiarity.
As these eerie tales circulated more widely, timid villagers avoided that area at night while the brave sought to witness it for themselves.
One such brave soul was Er Dadan, who feared nothing since childhood. One night, he indeed encountered the Bag Spirit at Second Aunt’s house: a large, bulging cloth bag stood there with its opening tied shut, concealing whatever lay inside.
Er Dadan steadied himself, took a few puffs from his pipe, and began talking to himself: "Whose bag is this? It’s so big; what could it be holding?" As he spoke, he reached out to untie the string at the opening. Once untied, instead of peering inside, he casually shoved his hot smoking pipe into the bag...
At this point in the story, elders would often perk up: suddenly there was a blood-curdling scream from somewhere unknown as a shadowy figure—indistinguishable—fled with sparks flying behind it. Ever since that night, the Bag Spirit never appeared again!
Another legend with a similar meaning involved "a thousand years black and ten thousand years white."
As someone walked along a dark road one night, they suddenly spotted two rabbits hopping around in the vast wilderness—one black and one white. Excited, they tried to catch them, but no matter how hard they tried, the rabbits eluded capture, and soon there were more and more of them. It wasn't until the crowing of a rooster heralded the dawn that the rabbits vanished, leaving the person bewildered to realize they had been wandering in circles around a graveyard. (Looking back, this story has its flaws: how could a black rabbit be seen at night?)
In the early 1980s, Annan County implemented the Household Responsibility System, and every family became busy. The livestock from the production team was distributed among households, leading to the closure of the Livestock Shed, which had served as a "center for gossip."
Later, when electricity was introduced to the village and televisions became available, such stories found no fertile ground to thrive.
One era came to an end.
Another tale is that of possession. Those who have read the original work "Bai Luyuan" will surely remember a particular scene: Heiwa's father, Lu San, vehemently opposed his relationship with Tian Xiao'e. Unable to tolerate her involvement with Lu Zilin and Bai Xiaowen, which he believed tarnished their reputation, he stealthily killed Tian Xiao'e one night in an Earthen Kiln.
Lu San's wife, Lu Huishi, contracted a plague. As she lay dying, she suddenly sat up in a moment of clarity and calmly asked Lu San with her blind eyes: "Did you stab Heiwa's wife to death?" She told him, "Xiao'e just told me. She wanted me to see the Blood Hole on her back." "How could you be so cruel... to kill our child's... wife..." With that, she breathed her last.
Bai Jiaxuan's wife, Xian Cao, did not escape this fate either. In her final moments, she sighed, "I can't see any of my loved ones; yet those I don't want to see come knocking at my door!"
When Bai Jiaxuan asked who had intruded upon her, Xian Cao replied: "It's Xiao'e! That filthy wife of Heiwa! As soon as she entered our yard, she took off her clothes for me to see her wounds. There was a Blood Hole on her chest right by her left breast; when she turned around, there was another Blood Hole on her back. I was weaving cloth and got so scared I dropped my shuttle..." And then she passed away.
More terrifying events followed.
One afternoon, Bai Jiaxuan prepared lunch and went to call Lu San for his meal. Lu San lay still and unresponsive. When he called again, Lu San suddenly replied in a high-pitched voice that sounded like a woman’s: "Just call your Third Brother! Why aren’t you calling me?"
Bai Jiaxuan asked if he wasn't Brother San; if he wasn't Brother San, then who was he?
Lu San suddenly twisted his waist and shook his head, saying: "You don’t recognize me? Take a closer look and you will." His coy demeanor and flippant tone were unmistakably that of Tian Xiao'e!
Afterward, Lu San frequently became possessed by Tian Xiao'e. One time before dinner he seemed fine until Bai Jiaxuan served him food; then he switched into "Tian Xiao'e Mode," laughing heartily: "Oh yes! It’s worth it! I’m being served food by the clan elder! Eating at the same table as the clan leader! It’s worth it! What am I? A whore! A filthy woman! Clan leader, you’re serving food to a whore! Aren't you ashamed of your noble status?"
He even went on to give a "speech" in front of many people at the sunbaked earth mound: "Who did I offend in Bailu Village? I haven't stolen a single cotton flower or taken a stalk of straw; I haven’t insulted any elders or pushed any children. Why can’t Bailu Village allow me to stay? I’m not good enough; I’m unclean—after all, I’m just a whore. But Heiwa doesn’t mind me; I live with Heiwa.
If I can’t stay in the village, I’ll move out with Heiwa to live in an abandoned kiln. The clan leader won’t let me enter the ancestral hall; so I dare not go there—why can’t they accept me? Oh dear! When I enter your house you don’t recognize me; when I leave your house without taking even a handful of rice or a single stick of firewood—why do you still want to stab me with your knife? Oh dear! How cruel..."
Hu Ruoyun also heard about this tale of possession.
When she was in elementary school, a classmate's brother got into an argument with his family and drank pesticide to commit suicide. Not long after that, another girl around his age also took her own life for some reason.
Years later, that girl possessed one of her relatives—auntie.
At that time, the village's Barefoot Doctor held great prestige; he managed most matters concerning life and death in the village. When this incident occurred, he was among the first to arrive at the scene.
He saw that the forty-something Aunt appeared like a little girl and greeted him as he arrived: “Brother ××, you’re here too!” (She addressed him according to their generational relationship.)
The Barefoot Doctor chatted with her: “What are you doing over there?”
The possessed Aunt spoke with the voice and mannerisms of that little girl from years ago: “I’m standing at the counter here.” (Note: Standing at the counter refers to being a sales clerk at the supply cooperative back then.)
The Barefoot Doctor asked, "Have you seen XX?"
Aunt, with a shy demeanor reminiscent of a lovesick girl, replied, "We're in the middle of a conversation..." (The term "talking" is our colloquial way of saying we are dating.)
Later, when the Barefoot Doctor recounted this incident with Hu Ruoyun nearby, despite being somewhat bewildered, he clearly remembered his feelings: "You know, if you believe in such things, it's broad daylight... But if you don't believe, how could anyone imitate another person's voice and mannerisms so perfectly, and even recount their private matters as if they were their own?"
I wonder if you have such "possession" legends where you are? Have you ever heard of such things?
I submitted several manuscripts to Story Collection, and just before the winter break, I received a letter from the Editorial Department of Story Collection: three of my pieces were accepted, and I received payment ranging from seven to eight dollars for each.
Mao Na looked at Hu Ruoyun with increasing admiration, which greatly satisfied his vanity.
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