Chapter Five: Childhood Nightmare

My elder brother’s story was once the biggest news in our neighboring villages, but as it became clear he wouldn’t be entering the Twelve Gates of the Ghost Cave again this year, and given that strange rule of his—only rescuing the living, never the dead—the gossip soon faded. After all, there really weren’t that many drowning victims. I have to admit, my brother’s sudden rise to fame turned me into a minor celebrity as well. People used to know me as the college-educated village officer, but now I’d gained another label: Sun Zhongmou’s younger brother.

Life is always so full of irony. Back when my brother was sent away, it was out of helplessness. My mother’s intention wasn’t really to abandon him, but to spare him hardship and, at the same time, make it easier for the family to afford my schooling. Yet after he was adopted out, he endured countless hardships. Maybe it was exactly those unique experiences that forged his skills and character.

Sometimes I wonder, if I had been the one sent away back then, would our fates have switched? Would I have become some kind of hero? Of course, that’s impossible to know.

After I brought home one hundred thousand yuan from my brother, he sent another fifty thousand over. With the family’s small savings, my mother and I discussed renovating the house. But before we could even start the work, trouble broke out in the village.

This incident involved the Chen Stone family—the people I least liked dealing with in the village, and it all stemmed from something that happened in my childhood.

It all began in the fourth year after my father’s death. I was still in my mother’s womb when he died, so that year I turned three.

The poorest man in our village, Chen Stone, brought home a mentally disabled woman he’d found somewhere. She had a simple, foolish look and drooled constantly, making her quite unattractive. But since Chen Stone was over thirty with no wife, he locked her at home with a chain—both to satisfy his base desires and in hopes of fathering children.

Chen Stone’s parents had died young, and he was too poor and too old to marry. This was his only option. He had a younger brother, Chen Oldroot, who was two years his junior but not much younger. Upon discovering his brother had brought home this woman, Oldroot sneaked inside whenever his brother was out working. The simple woman didn’t understand anything; just a steamed bun was enough to appease her.

Chen Stone soon found out, and the brothers fought bitterly. Eventually, they made an arrangement: odd days for the elder, even days for the younger. Over the years, the simple woman bore three sons. No one knew whose sons they truly were, but it didn’t matter—the boys called the elder “Father” and the younger “Da.”

Two years later, Chen Oldroot died of illness. In theory, this was a good thing—no more competition for the woman. But after his seven-day funeral, Chen Oldroot began appearing to Chen Stone in dreams, complaining of loneliness on the other side and begging for the woman’s company.

Chen Stone, tormented and exhausted, finally hired a paper effigy maker to craft several paper women to burn for Chen Oldroot. For a few days, the dreams stopped, but they soon returned. Oldroot scolded his brother for keeping a real woman while giving him paper substitutes, and demanded the woman herself be sent down to keep him company.

Not long after, the simple woman, who’d always been chained at home, somehow broke her chain and drowned in the river. Rumors spread that the chain was thick as a child’s arm—a dog’s chain, impossible for her to break. People said Chen Stone, tired of the woman, had killed her to appease his brother’s ghost. But no one had seen it with their own eyes, and Chen Stone denied everything. After all, she was just a mentally disabled woman, picked up from who-knows-where—her death was a non-event.

And I, unfortunately, became the last person to see her alive.

That day, I was alone by the river catching shrimp when I heard someone shouting in the water. I ran over to see the simple woman floundering, about to drown. There was a small branch on the ground, so I grabbed it and reached out for her to hold on. But she was a grown woman, and I was just a little kid—I couldn’t pull her up. When she tugged, I almost fell into the river myself. Floating in the water, she looked at me and smiled, then let go of the branch and slowly sank. At the time, I didn’t understand why she smiled at me. It was only later, when I grew up, that I realized she was thanking me—her smile meant, “Child, I won’t drag you down with me.” Sometimes I wonder if she was ever truly simple.

I was the sole witness to her death and became Chen Stone’s proof of innocence. Whenever anyone accused him of murder, he would haul me out and say, “Children tell the truth—Yezi saw it, the simple woman fell in the water herself.”

Those days, I was so terrified after witnessing someone drown that I couldn’t sleep without crawling into my mother’s arms. But what happened next became a nightmare I’d carry for life. Even now, as an adult, I’m only a little better. As a child, I nearly lost my mind.

After the simple woman died, her body was fished out. Chen Stone was so poor he couldn’t afford a coffin, so he wrapped her in an old quilt and buried her next to his brother Oldroot’s grave. This became further evidence for villagers that he’d killed her, but Chen Stone insisted that, as family, they should be buried together. That’s another matter.

It was Chen Stone himself who told people about Oldroot’s ghostly dreams—no one else witnessed them. But the strange things that followed the simple woman’s death were seen by the whole village. On the morning after the seventh day of her passing, the simple woman’s naked body was found lying at Chen Stone’s doorstep. The villagers crowded around, exclaiming, “Stone, this is vengeance! She may have been simple in life, but she gave you brothers relief and bore your family three sons. Now you’ve killed her—she’s come back for revenge!”

Chen Stone was terrified but still wouldn’t admit to murder. He carried the body himself and reburied it. But the matter didn’t end. On the day after the second seven-day period, her corpse appeared again in the same place. In a frenzy, Chen Stone yelled through the streets, “Damn all your ancestors! I, Chen Stone, swear I didn’t kill her! If anyone has a problem, confront me face-to-face—don’t play supernatural tricks behind my back! You think I’m scared?!”

He was like a mad dog, and no one dared provoke him, but behind his back, everyone whispered. Who would dig up a corpse just to scare him, unless he was guilty? If he hadn’t killed her, why wouldn’t her spirit leave him alone? People said even if he buried her again, it wouldn’t matter. She had unfinished business, and until it was settled, she’d never rest—certainly not until a life was claimed for a life.

Sure enough, after he reburied her, the third seven-day period passed, and her corpse appeared once more at his doorstep. By now, more than twenty days had passed. The body was decomposing, the belly swollen, and half the village was filled with the nauseating stench.

The villagers asked Chen Stone why he wasn’t cursing this time. Nearly driven mad, he broke down and wailed, “It’s not you tormenting me! I didn’t sleep all night. I saw her walk home with my own eyes!”

His words, and the sight of that corpse, sent shivers through everyone. At this point, no one wanted the corpse to keep appearing. Not only was Chen Stone losing his mind, but everyone in the village was afraid to go out at night. They told him, “Stone, whether or not you killed her, she’s come back for a reason. Why don’t you ask for help? Old Lady Wang from the next village is good at this—go find her.”

This time, Chen Stone listened. He fetched Old Lady Wang, who circled the corpse, lit three sticks of incense, and muttered something under her breath. After a while, she turned to Chen Stone and said, “The simple woman suffered a hard life. No one was ever kind to her—except, before she died, someone reached out to help. She’s using my voice to thank that person.”

I was among the crowd. As soon as Old Lady Wang spoke, everyone turned to look at me. I was nearly scared to tears, especially when Chen Stone came over, knelt, and knocked his head on the ground before me over and over, repeating his thanks.

That was all Old Lady Wang said, and the crowd slowly dispersed. People commented on how even the simple woman understood gratitude, coming back after death to say thank you to the one who tried to save her, and cursed Chen Stone for his ruthlessness. They all said I was kindhearted for my age and would surely be rewarded in life.

It was the height of summer, and the house was sweltering at night, so I slept outside with my grandfather. One night, I awoke from the heat and found Chen Stone burning paper money nearby. I called out, “Uncle Stone, what are you doing?”

Turning my head, I realized we were by the graves of the simple woman and Chen Oldroot. The realization hit me with such terror that I wet myself, unable even to cry.