The summer heat begins to subside at this time every day, and even the wind blowing from the rice fields carries a hint of coolness.

Li Zhuiyuan faced the rice fields, closed his eyes, and took several deep, deliberate breaths.

“Little Zhuihou, what’s wrong? Does Grandpa have an odor?”

“No, Grandpa, I’m smelling the fragrance of rice.”

“Oh, can you smell it then?”

“No, I can’t. It’s not like what’s written in books. They say the fragrance of rice is wonderful.”

“Silly child, your timing is off. Wait until after they’ve been fertilized or sprayed with pesticides, then smell it. I guarantee that smell will be absolutely pungent!”

“Grandpa, you’re teasing me.”

“Hahahaha.” Li Sanjiang stretched his neck and continued walking along the field path with the child on his back. “They don’t have much of a smell now, but wait until they’re harvested, dried, hulled, then steamed into rice or made into rice cakes, with hot white steam rising from them—won’t that fragrance be smelled from far away then?”

“Grandpa, you’re right.”

Li Sanjiang stopped and turned to look at the rice fields as well. “Actually, what you read in those articles isn’t wrong. For us farmers, seeing the crops grow well in the fields, with grain in the granary and rice in the pot, and no worries about hunger—that feeling of security means you can stand anywhere, close your eyes, take a breath, and it’ll all feel sweet.”

“I understand.”

“No, you don’t understand, Little Zhuihou. You haven’t truly experienced hunger, so you can’t truly grasp that feeling. It hasn’t been that many years, actually, since we’ve been able to eat our fill at every meal. Still, no matter what, it’s incomparable to the time before liberation.”

“Huh?” Li Zhuiyuan asked, surprised. “Before liberation, did everyone eat enough?”

“Yes, before liberation, everyone could eat their fill. No one starved.”

“Grandpa, what you’re saying sounds wrong.”

“Because livestock aren’t considered people.”

“Huh?”

“Little Zhuihou, before liberation, your grandpa here, I also had my share of adventures in old Shanghai.”

“Then, Grandpa, do you know Xu Wenqiang?”

“Who’s Xu Wenqiang? Don’t know him. Your grandpa, I went by boat back then, it was very convenient, since our Nantong and Shanghai are only separated by a river. I thought at the time, ‘Oh, great Shanghai, it must be easier to find work there. Anything would be better than farming for the landlord back home.’ And I was lucky; I found work right away as soon as I arrived.”

“What kind of work did Grandpa find?”

“A corpse-carrying team.”

“Did Grandpa work at a funeral home?”

“Heh, there were funeral homes back then, but how could ordinary people go to such a place? If you were carried in horizontally, you’d have to scamper out immediately afterwards – you couldn’t afford to die there. I joined the corpse-carrying team. The city government allocated some funds and some rich merchants donated money. The job was… to collect bodies every morning, carrying those from the streets and alleys to nearby charitable morgues for processing. In good times, there would even be a few donated coffins available, but not one coffin per person. Many people would be crammed together, a single coffin filled to the brim. I remember one time, many children your age were collected, and it took a lot of effort to squeeze them in. Ah, couldn’t shake them loose, couldn’t shake them loose. Do you know what that means?”

“Was it that the coffin was too heavy to shake from the outside, and the bodies were crammed too tightly inside to move?”

“Exactly. And this was when times were relatively good and there was a coffin. In bad times, bodies would just be rolled up in a straw mat for collection. If there wasn’t time to burn or bury them, they’d simply be dumped in mass graves in the suburbs, becoming food for wild dogs. And in winter, ho! Good heavens, that was truly exhausting. Early mornings on the streets, you’d see many families huddled together, frozen solid. Little Zhuihou, that was great Shanghai, a big city back then, very rich. Any random person there, if they just let a little bit slip through their fingers, it would be enough for a whole ordinary family to live on. But your grandpa, I was busy year-round, from start to finish. There was so much work I couldn’t finish it all, absolutely couldn’t. At that time, I kept thinking… there were so many foreign cars on the streets, it was the Bund, with dance halls, theaters, and grand buildings everywhere, and people in Western suits and wealthy ladies coming and going. Yet, in the cracks of those walls and in the alleys, people were dying of starvation every single day. I thought about it for a long time, and finally, your grandpa understood one thing. We all have two eyes, one nose, and two legs to walk, but only that tiny handful of people were truly considered human. Everyone else… no, every other *head*, they were just cheap, damn livestock. Hmm, no, that’s not right; livestock are valuable, they even get some fodder when they’re hungry. But those people, they didn’t even deserve a piece of a coffin board. If their bodies were collected after death, it was only because the authorities thought it affected the city’s appearance.”

Li Zhuiyuan hugged Li Sanjiang’s neck a little tighter, pressing his face against his grandpa’s back. “So, Grandpa, is that when you learned your skills?”

“You could say so. Back then, carrying bodies all day only earned enough for that day’s basic needs. Now, retrieving just one lets me live comfortably for quite a while. Liberation is good; people are finally treated as people, and they’ve become valuable.”

“My grandpa also said he was whipped when he was a long-term laborer for the landlord’s family as a child.”

“Listen to Hanhou spout nonsense! He’d barely grown all his hair when we were liberated here, and those landlords were all… Hey, Little Zhuihou, you’re not talking about Hanhou, are you?”

“It’s Grandpa Bei.”

“Hahahaha, your dad’s father in Beijing?”

“Yes, he said that if he hadn’t been truly unable to survive, he wouldn’t have joined the revolutionary army back then.”

Li Sanjiang suddenly stopped, turning his head to look at the child on his back.

“What?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Your Grandpa Bei, did he fight in a war?”

“Yes.”

“Is he still alive?”

“He is.”

“Did he fight the Japanese first?”

“He fought them later.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk!”

“What’s wrong, Grandpa?”

“Little Zhuihou, are you and your Grandpa Bei close?”

“During holidays and festivals, I go back with Dad and Mom to eat.”

“What about normally?”

“I don’t go.”

“Ah, you don’t visit them?”

“Grandma Bei and Mom don’t get along well.”

Li Sanjiang: “…”

“My eldest uncle and his family live with Grandpa Bei and Grandma Bei. Mom, Dad, and I live outside. Mom doesn’t allow me to go to Grandpa Bei’s place, and even Dad goes home secretly sometimes, not daring to let Mom know.”

“What on earth is Lanhou thinking?”

Li Sanjiang was utterly bewildered. Of course, he knew that conflicts between a mother-in-law and daughter-in-law were common, but it depended on the mother-in-law! With in-laws like that, if you don’t curry favor and serve them well, what else do you want?

But then he thought, Li Sanjiang suddenly felt this really was something Li Lan would do.

Among a house full of honest, unsophisticated people, a golden phoenix had suddenly appeared.

If Li Weihan’s ancestral grave weren’t next to his own, he’d truly suspect Li Weihan’s ancestral grave had caught fire – not even blue smoke would be enough to explain it.

As a child, that girl was sweet-mouthed and well-behaved, very lovable. A little older, she could discipline her four older brothers until they feared her. Even the most wayward idlers and gossipy old women in the village didn’t dare to cross her. One glance from her, even with a smile on her face, could make people’s hearts tremble.

He remembered the year she brought her partner home. Hanhou and Guiying were so constrained they didn’t dare to look directly, but Li Sanjiang, having seen the world, stared him up and down for a long time and even took the initiative to chat with him.

At that time, he noticed that the man, in front of Lanhou, was so disciplined he only had the role of a pecking chicken, nodding submissively. Anyone who didn’t know might think that fair-faced man was some poor young wife just abducted into the village by human traffickers.

Li Sanjiang also knew about Lanhou’s divorce; otherwise, Little Zhuihou wouldn’t have been temporarily placed here. Ordinarily, when a couple divorces, people’s sympathies usually lean towards the woman. But with Lanhou’s divorce… Li Sanjiang actually felt a bit of sympathy for the man, that he could endure it for over ten years – that was truly not easy.

“Little Zhuihou, you changed your surname, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Sigh.”

Li Sanjiang sighed. “Divorced is divorced, but you actually changed the child’s surname back. Even if you divorced without changing the surname, Little Zhuihou would still be considered a child of that family.”

“Little Zhuihou, listen to Grandpa’s advice: when you go back to Beijing, find more opportunities to get close to your Grandpa Bei and Grandma Bei, understand?”

“I won’t.”

“Child, be obedient. Grandpa wouldn’t harm you.”

“I can’t go. Mom would be unhappy if I did.”

“You…”

“If Mom is unhappy, she won’t want Xiao Yuan anymore.”

“Sigh… What are you saying? You’re mother and son. Your mom will always love you, no matter what.”

“No, she won’t.” Li Zhuiyuan’s voice was very low, yet very firm. “If I make Mom unhappy, she won’t want me anymore. I understand her.”

Li Sanjiang had no choice but to change the subject. “Little Zhuihou, did you bring your homework? Tomorrow, I’ll have your grandma bring your homework and books back.”

“I didn’t bring them back.”

“Ha, you’re a clever little one. You intentionally didn’t bring your books back so you could play to your heart’s content in the countryside during summer break, right?”

“Yes, it’s fun.”

“You still need to study hard in school so you can have a better life later. After these few days, I’ll have your sister, Yinghou, tutor you. Make sure you learn well from her.”

“Okay.”

“That’s a good boy.”

The grandfather and grandson chatted as they walked along, reaching a riverbank lined with farmland. They followed a small path along the river for a while, and suddenly, the area opened up.

Li Sanjiang’s courtyard was several times wider than Li Weihan’s.

There were three houses. The middle one, facing north to south, was a newly built two-story house. Unlike Cui Cui’s family’s squarish architectural style, this new house was very wide, extending from east to west, a long rectangular structure. Although it had a second floor, there were only a few individual rooms upstairs, looking like a few building blocks placed on a large platform. On either side of the new house were two bungalows, facing each other.

“Grandpa, your house is so big.”

“Indeed it is,” Li Sanjiang said with pride in his voice.

Besides recovering bodies, he also ran a paper effigy business, which required ample space to store raw materials and finished products. Additionally, he rented out tables, chairs, and dishes. Anyone in the vicinity holding a wedding or funeral had to rent from him. Although the fees weren’t high, he had long since recouped his costs, so now it was a stable source of income.

Therefore, the first floor of his new house was essentially a large warehouse, and the second floor only had three rooms, as empty as a rooftop. He didn’t mind; being alone, it was enough space for him.

Li Sanjiang set Li Zhuiyuan down from his back and led him by the hand into the middle house. Inside, the space felt even larger, like a small factory workshop.

The western half was neatly stacked with tables and chairs, and large baskets were overflowing with various dining plates, bowls, and dishes.

The eastern half was lined with paper effigies of people, houses, horses… Li Zhuiyuan even saw a paper Santana car.

A simply dressed woman, about his mother’s age, was painting. She held a palette in her left hand and a brush in her right, painting quickly and smoothly.

The woman noticed their arrival, turned to look, eyed Li Zhuiyuan up and down, and asked:

“Uncle, who is this child? He’s so fair and delicate.”

“Tinghou, let me introduce you. This is my great-grandson, Li Zhuiyuan. Zhuiyuan, this is Auntie Tinghou.”

“Auntie Ting.”

Li Zhuiyuan felt the seniority seemed a bit off, but among people with no familial relation, it was common for everyone to address each other as they saw fit.

“Oh, what a good boy.” Liu Manting put down her things, walked over, bent down, and gently stroked Li Zhuiyuan’s face with both hands. “So cute.”

Li Zhuiyuan stepped back half a pace to avoid her, a shy smile on his face.

“Uncle, you never used to bring children here to play.”

“Ha, and no child dared to come play here before,” Li Sanjiang said, taking out a cigarette from his pocket. “Tinghou, this child will be staying with me for a while. Could you help him tidy up a room upstairs? Oh, by the way, Little Zhuihou, are you afraid to sleep in a room by yourself?”

“No, Grandpa, I’m not afraid.”

“Hmm, it’s fine. Anyway, Grandpa will be sleeping right next to you, heh heh. All right, Tinghou, he’s in your hands. I’m going to relieve myself.”

Li Sanjiang lit his cigarette and went out to use the toilet.

“Come, Xiao Yuan, let’s go upstairs with Auntie.”

The first floor was incredibly cluttered with stacked items, so much so that the stairwell was more than half blocked, making it quite difficult for a first-time visitor to find.

Li Zhuiyuan noticed that at the stairwell, there were even more steps leading downwards. He asked, “Auntie Ting, is there another floor below this?”

“Yes, there’s a basement downstairs, about the same size as this floor.”

“Is it filled with the same kind of things?”

“No, those are all your Grandpa’s things. He couldn’t bear to throw them away, so he specially dug another level just to store them.”

“Oh, I see.”

“And also, Xiao Yuan, my name is Liu Manting. You can call me Auntie Liu from now on.”

“Auntie Liu, are you not from around here?”

“No, Auntie is from out of town. I work as an assistant for your grandpa in his paper effigy business.”

“Is it just you, Auntie Liu?”

“My husband is here too. He leases and farms your grandpa’s land, and on weekdays, he also helps out with the paper effigies and delivering tables and chairs, things like that. He should be back from the fields soon. When you meet him, you can call him Uncle Qin. Also, my daughter and mother-in-law are here; they live in that bungalow to the east that you saw when you came in. My husband and I live in the west. My whole family is here, making a living by working for your grandpa. Before liberation, we would have had to call you ‘Little Master’.”

Perhaps because he had just heard Li Sanjiang’s story about the corpse-carrying team on the way here, Li Zhuiyuan felt a bit uncomfortable with the joke and instinctively shook his head, saying:

“That’s feudal dross.”

“Huh?” Liu Manting was taken aback. Such a phrase coming from a child was indeed surprising.

“Auntie Liu, just call me Xiao Yuan.”

“Okay, Xiao Yuan. Your grandpa mentioned you. You came back from Beijing, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Are you used to living here?”

“Yes, I am. It’s very good here.”

“Don’t you find it boring?”

“No, there are many fun things here.”

“That’s great. Auntie’s hands get numb from coloring the paper effigies every day.”

“Auntie, your painting is very good, very professional.”

“Professional? Auntie was just forced into doing this; I don’t really know how to paint.”

But the way you hold the palette and brush is exactly like an art academy teacher.

“If Xiao Yuan wants to draw, you can help Auntie. Coloring isn’t difficult, actually.”

“Okay.”

Since returning to his hometown, this was the first time he had communicated entirely in Mandarin with someone, without so much Nantong dialect and so many “Hous.”

Even his schooled siblings only used Mandarin when first “translating” for him; then they would naturally switch back to dialect when speaking among themselves.

Arriving on the second floor, Liu Manting opened a room. The furnishings inside were simple: an old-fashioned bed and a wardrobe. There wasn’t even a stool, but it was very clean, indicating it was regularly tidied.

“Xiao Yuan, you’ll stay here. Your grandpa is right next door. You wait here for a bit, and I’ll bring you a washbasin, a towel, and a spittoon.”

“Thank you for your trouble, Auntie Liu.”

“This child is so polite.”

Liu Manting left. Li Zhuiyuan looked around his room and also stepped out. There really wasn’t… anything interesting to see.

The second floor was a large open terrace, with three rows of clotheslines standing in the center. There were no balconies or railings around the edges.

Walking to the edge, he could see the courtyard in front, and in the distance, a small river and farmland.

Li Zhuiyuan thought that a chair could be placed here, and sitting here daydreaming would surely be very enjoyable.

On a nearby field path, a middle-aged man was walking towards them, carrying a hoe. The man was tall, and where his white undershirt didn’t cover, clear muscles were visible, gleaming with a lustrous texture in the lingering sunlight.

He must be Auntie Liu’s husband, Uncle Qin.

It seems Uncle Qin wasn’t a farmer before.

Although farmers are generally quite strong, due to their diet and lifestyle habits, few develop such powerfully built muscles; they are usually lean and wiry.

His gaze shifted downwards, to the left.

“Hmm?”

When he entered earlier, the woodpile in the courtyard had blocked his view, preventing him from seeing the door of the eastern bungalow. Now, standing up high, he saw it.

Inside the central door of the bungalow sat a little girl, about his age.

She wore a red embroidered top, dark ink-colored trousers with white patterns, her hair was styled in a single swirl, and on her feet were a pair of light green embroidered shoes.

This outfit was very retro, with no modern elements, yet it didn’t look old-fashioned at all.

This wasn’t simply a piece of cloth her mother had cut and sewn casually for her daughter at home. The details on her clothes were exquisite, clearly requiring considerable skill and effort, and the overall coordination was harmonious, giving her the dignified appearance of a well-bred young lady.

Most importantly, the girl had fair skin, crescent-like eyebrows, and though her face was oval-shaped, it had just the right amount of baby fat. She was like a meticulously sculpted work of art; one couldn’t find even the slightest detail that needed changing, as if any superfluous addition would be a blasphemy and a sin.

At that moment, she sat on a stool just inside the doorway, her feet resting on the threshold, gazing straight ahead.

The last stubborn ray of sunlight before sunset drew a line of light and shadow, landing perfectly across the threshold of the house, right where her feet were placed.

Li Zhuiyuan lowered his head. Staring at someone was impolite, even though… she was truly beautiful.

She must be Auntie Liu’s daughter.

When he looked up again, he saw that she was still in the same posture, gazing straight ahead.

Logically, standing on the second floor, a person as big as him, staring at her, she should have noticed, or at least glanced at him.

Was she too engrossed in daydreaming?

Li Zhuiyuan raised his hand and waved. He was sure this action would attract her attention, but… it didn’t.

The girl remained seated, her feet on the threshold, motionless. She didn’t look up, didn’t turn her head, and didn’t even blink.

Was she blind?

Li Zhuiyuan called out, “Hello there!”

The girl still didn’t react.

Was she also deaf and mute?

A strong sense of pity welled up in Li Zhuiyuan’s heart.

Children of this age have pure and innocent hearts, free from the thoughts of adult men and women, and Li Zhuiyuan was no exception.

He simply felt heartache. If this girl in front of him had a disability, it would be like a beautiful object being brutally torn, leaving a bloody gash. Anyone, man or woman, would feel a profound sense of regret.

“Xiao Yuan.”

Auntie Liu’s voice came from behind. She walked to Li Zhuiyuan’s side and said with a smile, “Xiao Yuan, she’s Auntie’s daughter, Qin Li.”

Li Zhuiyuan nodded.

“All right, Xiao Yuan, come inside first. Auntie will help you arrange your things.”

Li Zhuiyuan was slightly surprised, because Auntie Liu had only introduced her daughter’s name without further explanation. Generally, one would ask about age to determine who was older or younger, and then add a line like: “You can play together later.”

There weren’t many things. After neatly arranging them, Auntie Liu clapped her hands and said, “The toilet is at the back of the first floor. At night, you can use the spittoon in your room.”

“Okay, I understand, Auntie Liu.”

“Then Auntie will go make dinner. I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

“Okay.”

Stepping out of the room again, back onto the second-floor terrace, Li Zhuiyuan’s gaze instinctively turned back to that spot.

The girl was still in the same posture, still gazing straight ahead, as if she were frozen in place, never having moved.

At this moment, he saw Uncle Qin walk to the threshold, squat down in front of the girl, and speak to her gently.

Yet, from beginning to end, the girl remained in that posture, not even sparing a glance for her father.

The impression was that, although she was physically there, she had no sensory connection with the world.

Uncle Qin noticed Li Zhuiyuan and waved. “Hello there, little friend.”

Li Zhuiyuan replied, “Hello, Uncle.”

“Little Zhuihou, come down for dinner!” Li Sanjiang’s voice drifted up from downstairs.

Li Zhuiyuan was a bit surprised. Already?

He went downstairs. In the empty space between the paper effigies on the first floor, two square wooden stools had been put together to serve as a dining table. On it were a plate of braised pig’s head meat, a plate of braised pig’s ears, a plate of seasoned kelp, and a plate of fried peanuts.

No wonder it was prepared so quickly; it must have all been bought from the market during the day.

“Sit,” Li Sanjiang said, opening a bottle of baijiu and pouring himself a large glass.

Li Zhuiyuan sat on a small stool opposite him, looking at the large bowl of rice piled high in front of him.

“Grandpa, I can’t eat this much.”

“Heh, of course Grandpa knows that,” Li Sanjiang chuckled. “You eat first; the rest is mine.”

“Oh.”

Li Zhuiyuan began to eat.

Li Sanjiang offered his glass. “Little Zhuihou, want a little drink?”

Li Zhuiyuan shook his head. “Children shouldn’t drink alcohol.”

“Right, that’s correct,” Li Sanjiang said, simply teasing. He took the glass back, took a large sip, and then picked up several peanuts in a row, putting them into his mouth. “At Hanhou’s place, you don’t get these good dishes, do you?”

“Grandma’s pickled vegetables are also very delicious.”

“Heh.”

Li Sanjiang put a piece of braised pork snout into Li Zhuiyuan’s bowl.

“Your grandparents are foolish, spoiling those kids. If you ask your grandpa, managing your own children’s generation is enough. But to have to manage the grandchildren’s generation too—damn it, a person spends most of their life as a slave to their offspring. Actually, if your grandpa’s family didn’t have so many children and so many mouths to feed, they wouldn’t have to drink thin gruel; he could have a little drink every night too.”

Li Zhuiyuan ate quietly, not responding.

“You’re different,” Li Sanjiang waved his hand. “Your mom paid money. Your uncles, they’re the real ingrates, a bunch of shameless wretches.”

Li Zhuiyuan continued eating.

“Here’s the soup,” Auntie Liu said, bringing a large bowl of loofah and egg drop soup and placing it on the wooden stool. “Keep eating.”

Then she left. Only then did Li Zhuiyuan realize that Auntie Liu’s family didn’t eat with Grandpa.

“Little Zhuihou,” Grandpa said, “there’s one thing I must remind you: when you live here, you can wander around anywhere else, but don’t go to that eastern room.”

The eastern room was where the girl sat.

“Why?”

“Tinghou’s daughter is in the eastern room,” Li Sanjiang said, poking his own forehead with the end of a chopstick. “That little girl has a problem up here. Don’t go near her. It wouldn’t be good if she scratches or bites you.”

Scratches or bites?

Li Zhuiyuan found it hard to imagine that little girl named Qin Li being associated with such behavior.

“Don’t take it lightly. When her family first moved in here the year before last, I offered that girl some candy. Who knew that as soon as I put the candy in her hand, she flung it away and then rushed at me, scratching and biting like a madwoman. Even the dead aren’t as fierce as her.”

“I understand, Grandpa.”

That’s good. So she wasn’t deaf or blind after all.

“Okay, let’s eat. After dinner, Grandpa will perform the ‘sitting zhai’ for you.”

Li Zhuiyuan finished his meal first and put down his chopsticks. Li Sanjiang then naturally stopped drinking, took his own rice bowl, and began eating.

The toilet was behind the house. Li Zhuiyuan walked out first and circled the courtyard, happening to see the little girl being led by an old woman to stand up and walk towards the dining table inside.

She must be Auntie Liu’s mother-in-law.

In this old woman, Li Zhuiyuan seemed to see a shadow of his Grandma Bei; both possessed a dignified elegance.

The little girl sat at the dining table but didn’t pick up her chopsticks. The old woman continuously whispered persuasively beside her.

When Li Zhuiyuan returned from the toilet, he saw the little girl had started eating. She only ate from her own bowl, while the old woman used a small plate to serve her dishes.

He noticed the old woman’s peripheral vision briefly sweep over him, but she didn’t greet him. Li Zhuiyuan hesitated for a moment and also didn’t go over to say hello.

Back inside, Li Sanjiang had finished his meal, and Auntie Liu was tidying up.

“Xiao Yuan,” she said, “the bathing area is in the innermost room upstairs. Auntie has already poured hot water for you. It might be a bit hot, so add some cold water yourself.”

“Thank you, Auntie.”

On the second floor, a well-fed Li Sanjiang was already lying on a rattan chair that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. With a toothpick in his left hand and a cigarette between the fingers of his right, he hummed a little tune while burping from his drink.

Li Zhuiyuan’s gaze lingered on the rattan chair.

“Ha, tomorrow I’ll have Lihou go to the market and buy one for you too.”

Lihou must refer to Uncle Qin.

“Okay.” Li Zhuiyuan smiled; he really did want one.

“The bathing area is over there,” Li Sanjiang pointed. “You go first, then I’ll go.”

“Understood.”

The bathroom was very narrow, likely a temporary addition. It had a rubber hose connected to a water tank above.

Li Zhuiyuan tested the water temperature. It was a bit hot but didn’t need cold water.

When he quickly finished his shower and came out, Li Sanjiang also stood up. “Go wait for me in my room.”

“Okay.”

By now, it was completely dark outside, and the moon hung in the sky.

Li Zhuiyuan glanced at the eastern room again. The bungalow’s door was closed, and a light was on inside.

He opened Li Sanjiang’s door and went in. Li Zhuiyuan reached for the string on the wall beside the door and pulled it down.

Click.

The light came on.

The furnishings in Grandpa’s bedroom were practically a replica of his own: an old bed and a wardrobe.

However, in the center, where it should have been empty, there was a dense circle of patterns and a row of small candles. An open old book lay on the floor nearby.

Li Zhuiyuan picked up the book and found that it was not printed but handwritten.

The cover read: “The Jinshaluo Scripture.”

He opened it and found that it mostly contained diagrams of formations and some annotations. The diagrams were drawn very sloppily, and the annotations were written very casually. Most importantly, the handwriting was truly ugly.

It was far worse than the handwriting of Grandpa Xu, the Chinese literature professor from the family compound who was good at making Dongpo pork.

Soon, Li Zhuiyuan found a diagram in the book identical to the one drawn on the floor. It was titled—“The Formation for Transferring Misfortune and Malice.”

Its effect was to transfer a person’s “malevolent energy” to another person, and it was also noted: “Harmful to people.”

Li Zhuiyuan looked at the diagram in the book, then at the one Grandpa had drawn on the floor.

“How come… it feels like there are a few discrepancies in the drawing?”

Unfortunately, the diagrams in the book were also hand-drawn and inherently crooked, making them difficult to compare.

“It’s also possible Grandpa didn’t draw it wrong; maybe the diagrams in the book aren’t standard.”

When two artists of the “freehand” style draw the same thing, comparing them is truly difficult.

Just then, Li Sanjiang walked in after his shower. He was bare-chested, wearing only a pair of large blue shorts.

Seeing Li Zhuiyuan holding the book and reading, Li Sanjiang couldn’t help but chuckle. “Ha, can you understand that, Little Zhuihou?”

Li Zhuiyuan nodded. “Yes, I can.”

“Good, good, good. You understand it. Our Little Zhuihou is the smartest.”

Li Sanjiang patted Li Zhuiyuan’s head, took the book from his hands, and tossed it aside.

The book was filled with hastily written traditional characters in brushwork, even joined strokes. To understand it better, he had to consult the retired old village teacher from the neighboring village several times, as that man loved calligraphy.

Later, Li Sanjiang stopped going, because the last time he visited, he brought one of his own paper effigies.

It was a gift, no charge, and the man’s children thanked him profusely.

So, how could he possibly believe that Li Zhuiyuan, a ten-year-old child, could understand any of it?

“All right, Little Zhuihou, sit there and don’t move.”

Li Zhuiyuan obediently sat in the designated spot. Li Sanjiang bent down and lit all the candles on the floor, then took out three black cords. He tied them around Li Zhuiyuan’s wrists, ankles, and neck, respectively. Once Li Zhuiyuan was seated, the other ends of the three black cords were also tied to Li Sanjiang’s corresponding positions.

As the candlelight flickered, Li Sanjiang began chanting. He chanted quickly, still using the Nantong dialect, which Li Zhuiyuan, despite listening carefully, couldn’t understand.

But he felt the tone sounded very similar to the little tune Grandpa had hummed earlier while lying on the rattan chair after eating.

After chanting for a while, Li Sanjiang finally stopped. He smacked his lips, probably feeling thirsty, but it wasn’t appropriate to leave the formation to get water. He could only clear his throat with a dry cough, then reached behind him, and when he drew his hand back, he held an extra talisman.

Li Zhuiyuan was a little curious: Grandpa was only wearing shorts. Where had he been keeping this talisman?

After bringing the talisman to a candle and lighting it, Li Sanjiang began to wave the paper talisman.

Hiss! Hiss!

Just as it almost burned his hand, Li Sanjiang slapped the talisman paper down between himself and Li Zhuiyuan.

Snap!

In an instant, all the candles were extinguished, and the incandescent light bulb in the room flickered a few times before returning to normal.

Li Zhuiyuan looked left and right, then lowered his head to look at the black cords tied to him.

Is that… it?

It doesn’t feel like anything happened.

“All done!”

Li Sanjiang stood up, walked over to Li Zhuiyuan, bent down, and used both his teeth and hands to break off the excess parts of the three cords. However, black cord loops remained on Li Zhuiyuan’s neck, wrists, and ankles.

“Little Zhuihou, don’t remove these three cord loops tonight. Just sleep with them on. I’ll cut them off for you tomorrow morning at breakfast.”

“Okay, Grandpa.”

“Hmm, go back and sleep now.”

“Good night, Grandpa.”

“Good night, good night.”

Li Zhuiyuan stood up. Just as he reached the doorway, he heard a “thud” behind him. He looked back to find Li Sanjiang on the floor, holding his foot.

He had bitten off the cords for Li Zhuiyuan earlier; now he must have accidentally fallen while trying to bite off the cord on his own ankle.

Li Sanjiang lay with his legs crossed and propped up, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other waving at Li Zhuiyuan.

“Go to sleep already!”

“Oh.”

Li Zhuiyuan returned to his bedroom and lay down on the bed. He hadn’t felt particularly sleepy before, but the moment he touched the bed, drowsiness immediately overcame him.

He pulled the thin blanket over his stomach and fell into a deep sleep.

Next door.

“It must have worked, right?” Li Sanjiang muttered to himself. “It definitely worked. The light bulb even flickered. It can’t just be a loose connection.”

Then, Li Sanjiang glanced at the book tossed on the floor and doubted himself. “Wait, the person who wrote this book probably never saw a light bulb, right?”

But quickly, Li Sanjiang found new evidence. “What am I thinking? The candles went out, so it definitely worked.”

With that, Li Sanjiang stretched, walked to the bed, and lay down.

“Ay, I’m truly exhausted today, oh, to sleep… sleep.”

He had done far too much today, from guiding spirits and retrieving bodies to drawing formations. Being old, he truly couldn’t handle it anymore.

The moment his head hit the pillow, he immediately began to snore.

However, as he slept, Li Sanjiang turned over. After mumbling a few words, his brows slowly furrowed.

He was dreaming.

In his dream,

he found himself sitting on a white jade tiered platform, surrounded by towering palace walls and magnificent halls.

To his front right was a gate archway, and to his left, a vast open area extending all the way to a pond and a dragon bridge.

“Damn it, is this the Forbidden City?”

Li Sanjiang had never been to the capital, so he hadn’t naturally visited the Forbidden City. But he had seen it on calendars and outdoor movie screens. Wasn’t this where the emperor lived?

Hey, it’s interesting that I’m having this dream.

Li San