"Kneel and kowtow." Grandfather Hu said with a stern expression. I glanced at him, hesitated, then knelt on the ground. In China, the dead are held in the highest regard—regardless of their deeds in life, once dead, they are entitled to receive obeisance. Grandfather Hu took out an apple, lit a stick of incense, and said, "Tomorrow night at midnight, there will be a spirit opera at Old Zhao's house at the entrance of Yingfucun. Firecrackers will guide the way. If the young lady is interested, she may come and watch." The spirit opera was the Guixi, though calling it that showed greater respect for the ghosts. I kowtowed three times in succession, and as Grandfather Hu finished his words, we stood up and continued our search for the next suitable grave. Throughout the night, we paid respects to over a dozen graves of women under twenty-five. By dawn, we were utterly exhausted, and nothing strange had occurred. The villagers all said Funtoushan was terrifying and that going up at night would bring death, but nothing happened. I even began to doubt whether everything Grandfather Hu and Grandfather were doing would be of any use. However, one thing was odd—despite not sleeping all night, I didn't feel particularly drowsy, and my injuries had improved considerably. I walked the ten-plus miles of mountain road back on my own. By the time we returned home, it was already noon. Grandfather Hu came back with me, and the troupe that would perform the Guixi had already arrived. Grandfather had called over some of the village's able-bodied men to help build the stage, bustling about busily. I sat quietly on a small stool, listening as Grandfather explained to the villagers that he was using my life to lure out the Sheyao and eliminate it, and the villagers were very supportive. The afternoon passed in a daze. Grandfather didn't give me anything to eat, and I had no appetite anyway. As the stage was nearing completion, a dozen or so octagonal tables were brought over from various households. These tables were scattered haphazardly in front of the stage, each with only a single long bench facing the stage, with incense burners and offerings placed on top. When it was almost finished, Grandfather went to cook, slaughtering the family's only two hens. As I helped pluck the feathers, I asked him, "Grandfather, will this work?" He sighed and said, "I can't guarantee it will keep you alive, but if we don't do it, you'll surely die." "Boss, you hired us to perform the Guixi—are you trying to find a ghost bride for this little kid?" A wiry old man walked into the kitchen and asked with suspicion. "Yes, troupe leader. You're all knowledgeable folks, so I won't hide it from you—it's exactly to find a ghost bride for my grandson," Grandfather replied. The wiry old man frowned and said, "This kid is too young. Probably no female ghost would take a liking to him, and it might even anger the female ghosts who come to watch the Guixi. This job is risky for us too." "How much more does the troupe leader think is fair?" Grandfather sighed, knowing full well the troupe leader was after a higher fee. "Add three thousand. After we return, we'll need to perform a cleansing ritual to ward off bad luck—that three thousand covers the cost of the ritual." The wiry old man said with a smile. I was speechless inwardly. Three thousand yuan was no small sum back then. I knew our family's financial situation—Grandfather only earned two hundred and eighty-eight yuan for presiding over a funeral. Three thousand would take at least a year to save up. Grandfather gritted his teeth and said, "Fine, I'll settle the full payment with you after the performance." The wiry old man smiled, turned, and left the kitchen. I asked, "Grandfather, how much does this Guixi cost in total?"
Grandfather stood up and said, "Pluck the chicken, wash it, and chop it up. I'll go borrow some money." It was only then that I realized Grandfather had spent all of our family's savings to help me prepare for this Gui Xi. Watching Grandfather's somewhat hunched back, I couldn't help but sigh and silently vowed that if I survived this ordeal, I would listen to him well, grow up to earn more money, and take good care of him with all my heart. Grandfather returned quickly from borrowing the money, his expression grim. He scooped up the chicken from the cutting board with the cleaver and started cooking. I didn't dare ask anything, just quietly helped out. After the people who helped build the stage finished their meal at our house, they each went home, and the villagers who had come to watch the commotion also left, because everyone knew this performance was meant for ghosts. Only eight people remained in the courtyard. Besides Grandfather, Grandpa Hu, and me, the other five were members of the troupe. Among these five, aside from that skinny old man, there were four young people—two women and two men. One of the women wore a mask, and her figure looked strangely familiar, very much like the Fairy Sister who had come to my room last night. I even felt it was her, but we had agreed that if we met again, we wouldn't acknowledge each other. So she was part of the troupe. But last night Grandfather hadn't yet planned to perform Gui Xi—could it be that the troupe had been performing in a nearby village? The troupe knew the rules of Gui Xi well. First, they dressed me in a bright red groom's outfit. It was made for an adult, so it hung loose and baggy on me, but there was no helping it—the troupe didn't have a groom's outfit tailored for a child. There were fifteen Eight Immortals tables in total, with the one in the center reserved for me, surrounded by fourteen tables encircling me. Each table was covered with white cloth, and on top sat an incense burner with three sticks of incense inserted, with raw meat and fruit offerings placed in front of the burners. On the benches beside the tables were stacks of yellow paper money, held down by stones. The adults were still busy, bringing in large amounts of white cloth to enclose the stage on all sides, with kerosene lamps lit on either end. Grandfather and Grandpa Hu each stood on one side, with piles of yellow paper money at their feet. The other four performers were backstage putting on their makeup, while I sat alone on the long bench in the center. On the table in front of me, only two items were placed: the jade ring Grandfather had brought out, and beneath it, a long strip of white paper with my birth date and time written on it. "Kid, do you still remember me?" The troupe member who looked so much like Fairy Sister walked over and sat down naturally beside me, her gaze falling on the white paper with my birth details, lingering there without moving away. The moment she spoke, I knew she was Fairy Sister—her voice was exactly the same. "You really are Fairy Sister. I didn't tell Grandfather about what happened between us, but he said the only way to save my life is to marry a ghost bride. I feel like I've let you down," I said cautiously. Fairy Sister smiled and said, "Grandfather is right. You're a good kid, and I won't blame you. Finding a ghost bride—are you scared?" "I'm not scared at all. Are you scared, Fairy Sister?" I said firmly. "I'm not scared either. I often come out with my grandfather. He says that when performing Gui Xi, I have to be there, or it won't be safe," Fairy Sister said with a smile. "Why is that? Are all the ghosts afraid of you?" I asked, puzzled. Fairy Sister shook her head and said, "I don't know, but I can tell you a secret—I can actually see ghosts, though they don't know it. Ghosts aren't scary at all. By the way, do you have any requirements for your ghost bride?"
"No… I don't have any particular requirements, just as long as she isn't scary. If possible, I'd like her to be pretty." Fairy Sister let out an "oh" and suddenly looked at me seriously, asking, "Kid, what's your name?" I replied, "My name is Zhao Mo—Mo as in silence." Fairy Sister suddenly gave a strange smile and said, "That was your name before. After you perform the Gui Xi, you won't be called that anymore." "Why?" I asked, puzzled. "Because after performing the Gui Xi, you need to change your name. I don't know why either. By the way, we share the same surname—I'm also a Zhao. My name is Zhao Yixian—Yi as in 'leaning,' Xian as in 'fairy.'" Fairy Sister said as she stood up, looking at the skinny old man on the stage who was waving at her. "That's a beautiful name," I said with a smile, feeling grateful to her. "Grandfather is calling me. The Gui Xi is about to begin. Kid, don't be afraid—it'll be fine. Ghosts really aren't scary, you know." After saying that, Fairy Sister winked at me, turned around, and walked toward the stage. Her slender silhouette was especially enchanting. After Fairy Sister left, I was alone again beneath the stage. The adults were still preparing. When the time was almost up, Grandpa Hu came over and said, "Child, no matter what happens next, don't be afraid. The female ghosts we've summoned will come to observe you. If any of them picks up the jade ring in front of you, it means she agrees to marry you, and you just go straight to the bedroom." "Grandpa Hu, what do I do in the bedroom?" "For the wedding night, of course," Grandpa Hu said matter-of-factly. "W-wedding night?" I stammered. Marrying a female ghost was already driving me to the brink of collapse, but how could I possibly accept something like that? Grandpa Hu said, "Yes, don't worry. Whatever she says, just do it. There's no other way now. If you're really unlucky and run into a vicious ghost that wants your life, then you can only blame your bad luck." "There's that kind of danger?" I asked in terror. Grandpa Hu nodded and said, "Yes, but the chances are slim. Most female ghosts won't harm the husband they've chosen." I breathed a sigh of relief, but then tensed up again, saying, "But what if a vicious ghost does show up?" "If that happens, then it's just your fate." After saying that, Grandpa Hu turned and walked toward the courtyard gate, picked up the paper money on the ground, and began to burn it. I was extremely nervous, my palms starting to sweat. The hour of Zi was drawing closer, and I had no idea what was about to happen. Grandpa Hu finished burning the paper money just as the hour of Zi arrived. He took a stick of Gongxiang and lit the firecrackers at the gate. The crackling sound immediately echoed throughout the entire village. After the firecrackers stopped, the dogs in the village began to bark wildly, but within less than ten seconds, all of them fell silent. Grandpa Hu quickly returned to the side of the stage. Two people came out from the back of the troupe—a man and a woman. Their faces were as pale as lime, their eye sockets painted pitch black, and they wore burial clothes. As soon as they came out, the woman announced in a shrill voice: "Midnight divine opera, respectfully inviting all deities to take their seats. Today's performance is 'The Widow Visits the Grave.'"