The man held the kerosene lamp aloft, its faint light guiding his cautious, small steps. He glanced back at his wife huddled behind him, shook his head, and thought, Damn it, you think you’re the only one scared? I’m about to piss myself too. But that thought had to remain private, something to stew over internally; he couldn't voice it. He was a resident of Xiushui Village; his wife was from the provincial city, and after marrying, he had become a live-in son-in-law there. This holiday visit was to bring his wife to see his aging parents in the village, as it had been a long time since they returned.

Lost in thought, the two of them bypassed the main dwelling and followed a side path. After rounding the first corner, just as they prepared to take the next turn out of the village, disaster struck.

The route called for a westward turn here—that was correct—and the man had indeed been walking west. But the trouble began when, preparing for the subsequent northward turn, he suddenly discovered that the northern path was gone! Blocking the view where it should have been was that eerie, grim Hu family mansion.

"Huh? What the hell, did a ghost show up?" The man craned his neck to look, then, after a long pause, scratched at his stubble, his face a mask of confusion.

"Shh… It’s pitch black out, don't say 'ghost, ghost, ghost.' Didn't you hear the elders? That’s the surest way to attract unclean things!" The woman scolded him while peering around his shoulder. Seeing the sight only made her face instantly drain of color.

"Zhuzi, I—I... you... why are we back here again!" Staring at the half-open courtyard gate, the woman’s trembling hand froze mid-air as she shrieked. For some inexplicable reason, the plaque bearing the inscription Fushou Shuangquan (Blessings and Longevity Abound) felt like a bucket of ice water dumped on her head on the coldest winter day, chilling her to the bone.

"Uh…" The man couldn't quite process it either, only mumbling vaguely, "Probably haven't walked this way in ages, must have gotten the route mixed up!"

"Got the route mixed up?" The woman rubbed her chest, still recovering from the shock, her flushed face slowly calming. "You’re a grown man who spent his whole childhood here, and you get lost? If I tell people that, they’ll laugh their teeth out! What a waste of years!"

"Alright, alright, you nagging shrew, stop your fussing. Let me think. We’ll try walking it again!" The man impatiently cut off her tirade. He went back to the second bend and retraced their steps, but again, the mansion blocked their way.

First west, then south, then west—yes! The next should be north. Yet, the house stood stubbornly in their path for the third time! The man’s expression shifted; he began to doubt his own memory. He swung abruptly to the south and found a new path had appeared there!

"This road was supposed to lead north, how did it end up leading south?"

The man seemed to recognize it and stepped onto the path. He noticed the residences on either side were eerily quiet, all the windows dark. To his surprise, this path soon ended at a solid wall. Annoyed, the man decided to turn back, but the path they had entered from had vanished! Looking back, where the red wall had stood, there was now a massive mansion. Judging by the plaque under the eaves and the two white lanterns by the entrance, it was undoubtedly the Hu family residence!

The gate was ajar, and the Fushou Shuangquan plaque, normally hanging formally, was obscured by the shadow of the eaves.

The woman frantically clutched a corner of the man’s coarse cloth coat. "Zhuzi, I... I'm scared."

The man stretched out the kerosene lamp in his hand, pointing the light toward the vermillion courtyard gate. As far as he could see, it wasn't brightly lit, but there were definitely lights visible.

He weighed his options, then turned to his wife. "Something feels off. I think we might have taken a wrong turn somewhere? Could we have been tricked by a Huang Daxian?" (Huang Daxian, the weasel, is considered a highly spiritual creature in the folklore of Northeast China, capable of cultivation, transformation, and deceiving people. They are also said to adhere to certain codes; helping them might earn you protection for your home and children. For this reason, many local temples were built for them, receiving offerings.)

"Let’s just peek inside and see!"

The woman didn't let go of his coat. "I still feel uneasy, a knot in my stomach. Let's not go in."

"We’ll just look from the doorway, see if there's a path, that’s all!" Saying this, the man, without further argument, carried the lamp and stepped onto the moss-covered stone steps before the gate. With a slow movement, he pushed open the lacquered vermillion door. Screeeech— The sharp, drawn-out sound echoed and faded within the empty yard, reminiscent of a woman’s soft, drawn-out, mournful cry. The sound startled the woman, instantly turning her face ashen.

The man also jumped, and the kerosene lamp in his hand visibly trembled. He took a deep breath, quickly scanning the visible courtyard before taking another deliberate step forward. As he crossed the threshold into the yard, the woman suddenly released her grip on his coat and scrambled backward several steps. Trembling in the wind, the woman whispered in horror, "Zhuzi, let's not go. Let's find some of the villagers to help." Her face was pale, and her voice shook.

"Hey, why are you getting scared now? Besides, I, Wang Sanzhu, am a man. If I listen to you, people will be gossiping behind my back, calling me a coward." Saying this, the man strode further into the yard with the lamp. The woman glanced fearfully over his shoulder, then finally edged forward again. She tried to appear brave, but her body trembled relentlessly at the entrance.

"Strange, the old Master Hu's family was always prosperous! Where is everyone now? Good thing it’s us; if it were thieves, they’d have cleaned the place out," the man muttered, looking around with the lamp.

The woman hunched her shoulders and looked up toward the plaque. Just then, the moonlight pierced the clouds, cascading down in a soft, fuzzy sheet, illuminating the entire winding path and washing over the woman—yet, not a single shadow was cast beneath her feet.

"Ah————————!" The woman’s pupils dilated instantly as she stared into the courtyard, letting out a low scream. Her eyes were wide with terror, yet she couldn't look away, as if moving her gaze would allow whatever was inside to leap out. But at that moment, the man’s voice did not immediately follow.

Simultaneously, a loud clatter echoed from inside the courtyard—something falling to the ground. This was followed by the hissing, crackling sound of burning.

The woman hastily retreated several steps, her legs so weak she nearly collapsed. When she looked into the courtyard again, the man’s figure was completely gone. All that remained where he had stood was the lamp he had dropped, its wick now lit by the fallen flame, burning like a spectral phantom. The leaping sparks resembled the grinning face of a demon…