Chapter Eight: The Fool Has Returned

In the end, all we did was fill in the fool’s grave again. Chen Qingshan went to ask a friend to bring a Taoist priest to perform a ritual. It all sounds absurd—the fool, even if she couldn’t be considered Chen Stone’s wife, was still the mother of Da Kui and his two brothers. Whether her grave was dug up or she “climbed out herself,” shouldn’t her family at least show up? Not one of them came to take a look. As the villagers said, those three brothers are so deeply lost in that young woman’s charms, they’d rather die in bed than come out to see anything.

I didn’t want to get too involved in the fool’s business. My childhood memories still haunted me. So while Chen Qingshan and the others were busy, I quietly slipped back alone to the village committee office. As I approached, I saw Han Xue standing alone by the door from a distance.

I assumed she was here again to press about the young woman’s situation. I walked over and said, “No class today? There’s been no progress on that matter yet, but I’m working on it. You see, something new has come up again.”

Han Xue looked up at me, her face a little pale. “Did the fool really climb out of her grave?”

I nodded. “So you’ve heard. That’s what they’re saying. Whether she climbed out herself or someone dug her up, we can’t be sure yet.”

Seeing the pallor in Han Xue’s face, I asked, “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell? Should you see someone?”

There was something odd about Han Xue today—a distracted, lost look in her eyes. I thought she must be ill, so I brought her inside, poured her a cup of water, and continued, “Don’t push yourself. If you’re sick, see a doctor. Even if it’s just the village doctor, they can handle a simple cold or headache.”

Han Xue held the cup, gazing up at me. Her usually large eyes, blurred by the rising steam, looked dazed and dreamy. She asked, “Ye Zi, I heard about the fool’s situation from the students. No grave robbers would bother with her tomb. Even if the brothers had enemies, no villager would dig up the fool’s grave. So it must have been her, climbing out herself—am I right?”

I actually believed the same, but I was afraid—afraid of the fool, afraid to meet Han Xue’s gaze. “Don’t overthink it. Times have changed. I was just telling the village chief, you two—one a party official, one a teacher—how can you believe in such superstitions?”

Han Xue set down her cup, her face darkening. “Ye Jihuan, tell me the truth.”

I looked at her, a bit bewildered. “What’s wrong with you today?”

She looked up again, still pale, but now her eyes brimmed with unshed tears—she was about to cry. Startled, I blurted, “What’s the matter? Tell me!”

“It must have been the fool. Last night, the shadow standing outside my window—I’m sure it was her.” Han Xue spoke softly.

“Nonsense.” My heart skipped wildly, but I still rapped her gently on the head.

“I already suspected it last night. Now, with her grave like this, it only proves it. Ye Zi, I’m not joking with you. Do I look like I’m fooling around?” Han Xue’s watery eyes glared at me. If I kept deflecting, she’d surely start to weep. I knew Han Xue—normally lively, but she would never joke about something like this.

I sighed and sat down. “I only said that to keep you from being scared. I believe you. Tell me what happened.”

“There’s a wind chime hanging by my bed. In the middle of the night, it started tinkling all of a sudden. I woke up, thinking it was the wind—I’d left the window open. But just as I turned on the light, I saw a woman’s face outside the window. Her hair was long, her face was deathly pale, as if she’d been soaked in water for ages.” Han Xue trembled as she spoke, unconsciously gripping my arm so tightly it hurt.

Her words sent shivers across my skin. I patted her shoulder, trying to calm her. “And then?”

“She smiled at me, then left.” At last, Han Xue began to sob.

Her words made my scalp prickle. I thought of that smile the fool gave me by the river when I was a child, just before she died—a smile I’ll never forget, that haunted, smiling face.

I pulled out a cigarette, lit it. My hands were shaking so much I could barely hold the lighter. I told Han Xue, “Don’t be afraid. The fool wasn’t a bad person, just a pitiful woman. She wouldn’t hurt anyone. There are good people and bad people in life, and the same is true of ghosts.”

That was as much to comfort myself as to comfort Han Xue.

“But why would she come to me? Even if she returned, she should be looking for Chen Stone’s family. I thought about it all night—maybe she came because I asked you to help that girl? Is she blaming me?” Han Xue looked at me, her tear-streaked face so pitiful I wanted to hold her close.

“Impossible. The fool suffered enough. Even if she’s here because of that, she wouldn’t scare you—maybe she came to thank you for your sense of justice. If there’d been someone with your courage back then, she wouldn’t have ended up so miserably.” I patted Han Xue gently.

I spent a long time comforting her. She was a strong woman, but anyone would have been terrified by what she described—even me, let alone a young woman like her. Finally, I stood up. “Don’t worry. Everyone in the village knows the fool’s spirit holds a grudge. Grandpa Third and the village chief are both afraid she’ll cause trouble now that she’s out. The chief has already gone to fetch a priest—once the ritual is done, everything will be settled.”

As soon as I said this, Han Xue, her face still streaked with tears, stood and grabbed my arm. “They’ve gone for a priest? They’re not going to destroy her, are they?”

“What’s wrong? Feeling sorry for her?” I teased.

“No, the fool’s suffered enough. If you destroy her, what kind of people are you?” Han Xue wiped her eyes, glaring at me with her tear-smeared face like a little wildcat.

“But she did frighten our beautiful and lovely Teacher Han last night—serves her right!” I joked.

Han Xue pinched my arm with all her might, making me yelp. “That’s not allowed! You can’t treat her like that!”

“All right, all right, I’ll talk to the village chief—tell the priest as long as the fool returns peacefully to her grave, we won’t harm her. Can you let go now, my lady?” I pleaded—she really pinched hard!

Han Xue released me and said, “So you have to save that girl quickly. Even if the fool did come to scare me, that girl still needs saving—or she’ll end up just like the fool. I know how things work in your village, but remember—every day you delay, that girl suffers at Chen Stone’s house. What if that girl were me?”

After comforting Han Xue for a while, she returned to school—she still had classes. She’d only let her students study on their own that morning because she was too upset to teach.

Once Han Xue left, I was alone in the room. I’m not the kind of man to be frightened out of my own place, but I did feel a chill in the air. I smoked one cigarette after another as memories from my childhood flashed through my mind.

Finally, I stubbed out my cigarette and left, not really knowing where I was headed. I wandered aimlessly until I found myself in front of my eldest brother’s house in Sanlitun. He was in the courtyard, drinking tea, watching me stand at the gate in a daze.

“How long have I been here?” I asked sheepishly, scratching my head as I walked in.

“Half an hour. You’ve just been standing there, lost in thought.” My brother picked up some tea with his tongs and handed me a cup.

I took a gulp, only to spit it out—it was scalding hot. My brother handed me a few tissues and said, “Go on, what happened?”

Looking at my brother, I realized that I must trust him deeply to have wandered here in a daze. In my heart, I believed he could solve anything. He was more than just a hero who could take on a crowd with his bare hands; he seemed to possess mysterious powers—determining life and death from a person’s birth date, remaining unflustered even when facing the supernatural.

I put down the cup and told him everything, including what happened in my childhood. Since it was my brother, there was no need to hold anything back.

When I finished, I looked at him. He remained calm, which reassured me—only someone truly confident would be so unruffled.

“So, you like that schoolteacher?” my brother suddenly asked.

“Does that really matter?” I replied, a little embarrassed.

He stood and said, “Wait here a moment.”

With that, he went upstairs to his attic. The second floor of my brother’s house was something of a mystery and had been the subject of much village gossip lately. Whenever he performed his rituals, he’d take the red papers with birth dates upstairs, and after coming down, he’d know the fate of the drowned. People speculated that he worshipped the River God or a water ghost up there, and that the god set strict rules—three visits a year, a hundred thousand per visit. Why else would he stick to those rules so rigidly? As for determining life and death, they said he consulted the water ghost—if the person’s life had already been claimed, he wouldn’t intervene; if not, he’d save them.

The story was just speculation, but it seemed plausible. I, his own brother, didn’t know what he kept up there, but I suspected it had something to do with that black box I helped him move that day.

So when he told me to wait while he went upstairs, I wondered if he was going to ask the water ghost for help this time, too.

After a while, my brother returned, his expression a little strange. My heart sank. Since we’d been reunited, I’d never seen him lose his composure. Was this matter really so difficult?

“What’s wrong, brother?” I asked.

“It’s already being handled. I can’t interfere,” he said.

“What do you mean?” I pressed, and after asking, I understood—he meant that someone more powerful was already involved.