Fairy Sister shyly covered her mouth with a smile, then slowly leaned over me, and in the gentlest way possible, gave me—a mere twelve-year-old—an early taste of what it meant that "an hour of spring night is worth a thousand pieces of gold." That night, spring filled the garden, dreamlike and ethereal, yet so real. We kept at it until the roosters crowed at dawn, and I was nearly spent, before Fairy Sister finally put on her clothes and instructed me, "Little brother, we will meet again. As for this embarrassing matter, just pretend it never happened. You must not tell anyone, including your grandfather, understand?" "I want to take responsibility…" I said firmly. "But you're too young right now. If you want to take responsibility, wait until you're eighteen, and I'll marry you." I was so excited I stammered, "Fai… Fairy Sister, are you telling the truth? When I turn eighteen, you… you'll marry me?" "Mm, it's true. But you can't tell anyone about what happened between us, including your grandfather, do you hear?" I nodded and said, "I hear you. As long as I can see Fairy Sister again, I'll do anything." …… The next day, I was awakened by a basin of cold water. When I came to, I still felt aches all over my body. Grandfather stood before me holding the tin basin, saying coldly, "Damn it, the wounds have already scabbed over overnight." I looked down at the wounds on my body—they seemed mostly healed—and then my thoughts turned to the Fairy Sister who had appeared in my room last night. I stubbornly believed that she truly was a fairy, sent to save me. Thinking of her promise that we would meet again filled my heart with anticipation, because the feeling from last night had been simply wonderful. I didn't dare tell Grandfather about it, because Fairy Sister had instructed me before she left that this was our little secret, not to be shared with a third person—she was shy. Seeing me lost in thought, Grandfather said coldly, "Come with me!" "Grandfather, where are we going?" I squeezed out a few words, and my consciousness began to fade again. In my hazy state, I could only feel Grandfather lifting me onto his back, then walking out of the house and heading toward a mountain outside the village. Every step he took sent jolts of pain through my body, and before we had gone far, I passed out again. When I opened my eyes, it was already dark. I was lying in bed, with Grandfather and another elderly man sitting before me. The old man had a kind face, white hair, and looked quite spirited. He was staring at me intently, having already pried open my jaw. "His eyes are wandering and his forehead is yellow—these are signs of an untimely death. His tongue is coated black and his lips are purple—he will die within seven days. Brother Zhao, this child's time is nearly up," the old man said directly. Grandfather's face was ashen, still angry, no doubt. He glanced at me and said, "Brother Hu, my grandson has had a hard life—no father, no mother, and he hasn't had it easy with me either. If there's any way out, please point us in the right direction." The old man Grandfather called Brother Hu sighed, looked at the wounds on my body, and after a long pause said slowly, "The wounds have scabbed over, but the pain remains—that's a sign of rejection. Brother Zhao, you nearly beat this child to death, yet the Shexian refuses to let go. That means the Shexian is dead set on taking his life." Grandfather nodded and said, "Yes, I know. I know a bit about ghosts, but when it comes to demons, Brother Hu, you're more experienced than I am."
Grandpa Hu said, "Right, six people have died already. Seven is the number of the snake demon's reincarnation cycle. To escape this calamity, I must find a backer for the boy. Once he has a backer, the snake spirit will be wary."
"But where do we find a backer?" Grandfather blurted out.
"Find him a wife."
Grandfather was stunned, then his expression changed as he said, "Brother Hu, are you talking about a ghost marriage?"
The old man surnamed Hu nodded and said, "Exactly. Ghosts and demons cannot coexist. We need to find him a female ghost as a wife."
Grandfather shook his head. "He has the Jiyin Mingge. A ghost marriage might kill him even faster."
Grandpa Hu shook his head and said, "The snake demon's claim on his life cannot be undone, but the Jiyin Mingge can be broken by a ghost. If we arrange the right ghost marriage, he can survive past the wedding night. The snake demon has been near him for nearly seven years, keeping vigil night after night. If it takes his life to become a demon, its cultivation will leap forward by seventy years. At that point, no one would be able to subdue it."
Grandfather pondered for a moment, then slowly nodded.
Hearing the two old men talk about this, I endured the searing pain and sat up abruptly, saying stubbornly, "No, I don't want a ghost wife." Besides, I already had someone I liked—the Fairy Sister from last night.
"Whether you want it or not, do you want to live or not?" Grandfather glared at me fiercely and raised his hand to slap me again.
I don't know where I found the courage, but I didn't dodge or flinch. In the end, that slap never came down. His face was flushed red with anger as he said, "If you don't cooperate, you'll only end up dead, do you understand?"
"I understand, but if I marry a ghost wife, I won't be able to marry a real wife later!" My mind was filled with the image of the Fairy Sister. If I married a ghost wife, how could I ever explain that to her?
Grandpa Hu chuckled and said, "Boy, you've misunderstood. This ghost wife is to help ward off your calamity. It won't affect you marrying a real wife later."
Hearing that, my eyes lit up, and I looked at Grandfather, asking, "Grandfather, is that true?"
Grandfather nodded. "Of course it's true. You don't really think a female ghost would stay with you for a lifetime, do you? They also need to be reincarnated."
I felt terribly aggrieved at the time. Being young, I could only pout and say, "Then Grandfather, find me a pretty one. I want to choose for myself."
"Since when are ghosts pretty? And you want to choose? You should be burning incense in gratitude if any ghost is willing to take you. Settle down. You caused this mess yourself, so you should bear the consequences." Grandfather had no qualms about crushing my hopes.
I shuddered all over. I'd never seen a ghost, but I had an idea of what they were like—from TV. Long hair covering the face, pale white skin, even blood seeping from the seven orifices. If ghosts really looked like that, then even if I survived, I'd be scared to death anyway. But my thoughts didn't affect their decision in the slightest. After all, I was still young back then, and I had to listen to the adults.
"Mm, souls cling to Buddha and Tao, ghosts delight in opera. Brother Zhao, go quickly and contact an opera troupe that performs Gui Xi," Grandpa Hu said.
Grandfather nodded. "I'll go make the arrangements right away."
After the two old men settled on the plan, Grandfather handed Grandpa Hu a jade ring, saying it was a family heirloom of ours. Then he started calling around to contact an opera troupe, explaining to them that this performance would be a Gui Xi. A Gui Xi, as it's called, means the troupe performs as usual, but there are no spectators—only the person involved watches alone. Country opera troupes often received such requests. It sounded terrifying, but for the performers, it made no real difference. And since the pay was several times higher than a regular performance, they were naturally happy to take the job.
After finalizing the arrangements with the theatrical troupe, Grandfather went back to prepare for setting up the stage. As for Grandpa Hu, after I had rested for half a day, he brought along some offerings and dragged me to Grave Hill, five li outside the village, to invite the ghost. Grave Hill was a mountain dedicated solely to earth burials. Apart from our Eagle Crouch Village, two other villages surrounded the hill, and it served as the meeting point of the three villages. It was said that the feng shui of this mountain was excellent—those buried here would bless their families—so Grave Hill was covered with graves and low, accompanying pine trees. My body was riddled with aches and pains, and I winced with every step. By dusk, Grandpa Hu had half-dragged, half-carried me to the foot of Grave Hill. The moment we arrived at the base of the mountain, the sun had already begun to set. Grandpa Hu glanced at the sky, then handed me a steamed bun and said, "Let's rest a bit and have something to eat."
"Grandpa Hu, let's not rest. It's about to get dark soon—let's hurry up and find the ghost bride and head back," I said weakly.
Grandpa Hu chuckled, the deep wrinkles on his forehead clearly visible, and said, "We have to wait for darkness. Finding a ghost bride is something that can't be done during the day."
I shuddered all over. The thought of being in a mountain full of graves at night was terrifying just to imagine.
"Are you scared?" Grandpa Hu asked.
I instinctively shook my head and stubbornly replied, "No, I'm not scared. What's there to fear for a real man?" Though I said that, my heart was already trembling. It was just a matter of pride—I didn't want to admit I was afraid. And I knew well that being scared wouldn't help; they wouldn't let me go back just because I said I was afraid.
We waited until dark. I had never felt time pass so quickly. Perhaps it was because I didn't want to go up the mountain, hoping time would slow down, but the more I wished for it, the faster it seemed to fly.
"Let's go. We'll go up the mountain to invite the ghost. Once we're up there, don't speak recklessly—I'll do the talking. If you feel cold, or if someone pats your back, whatever you do, don't turn around," Grandpa Hu said as he stood up, patted the dirt off his pants, lit a kerosene lamp, and started walking up the narrow path.
Grandpa Hu said we couldn't use a flashlight—its light was too strong and would easily attract the attention of those things. I followed reluctantly behind him, and soon we arrived at an area densely packed with graves. The tombstones here were all carved by the same stonemason, so they looked nearly identical. The only difference was the black-and-white portrait photos on the tombstones, which seemed to carry faint smiles.
Grandpa Hu led me as he examined each tombstone one by one, checking whether the person buried inside was male or female. If it was a woman, he'd carefully note the age at which she died. Those over twenty-five were mostly skipped, because in the countryside, women over twenty-five had generally already been married. Those who had been married before death couldn't enter into a ghost marriage. I followed behind Grandpa Hu as the cold mountain wind blew in gusts, and my heart felt uneasy. Grandpa Hu had warned me before we went up, and perhaps it was psychological, but I really did feel a chill, and I sensed something patting my back. After searching through more than a dozen graves, we finally found the tomb of a woman who had died at twenty-two.