Liu Shao’s brow furrowed into a tight knot, his lips pulled upward in an unnatural curve that could have been a smile or a grimace. The clicking sound that erupted was unmistakably from his mouth—the clatter of his upper and lower teeth fighting a battle. Then, in a voice trembling close to tears, he managed, “Qiangzi, I think I’ve been cursed.”

“What? C-cursed?” Tian Guoqiang’s heart plunged, feeling as if a stone had dropped into his chest.

Tian Guoqiang took in Liu Shao’s face, the shock almost too profound for words. Just moments ago, though terrified, he had possessed flesh and blood, entirely normal. But now, in the span of mere seconds, Liu Shao’s entire face seemed to have wasted away, though his eyelids were notably swollen. He resembled a severely malnourished patient.

This was hardly the place for conversation, and the secret concerning last night could not possibly be revealed to outsiders among the four of them. Thus, Tian Guoqiang merely gestured to the other two, dragging Liu Shao over to sit by a pile of husks.

After sitting down and taking several deep breaths, Liu Shao’s dejected complexion showed slight improvement. He immediately burst out, impatient, “I’m telling you, I’ve been cursed! I swear to God, I saw a ghost!”

“It’s just about that time at the Lingguan Temple last night, right? Let’s just drop it, everyone,” Tian Guoqiang said, glancing at each person in turn.

“No, not that thing!” Liu Shao frantically waved his hands. “Didn’t we all run away then? We got separated, and on my way back alone, I ran into something even weirder.”

“Slow down, tell us properly!” Tian Guoqiang said with a grim expression. He had a feeling that what Liu Shao encountered might be inextricably linked to their earlier experience. Since last night, the four of them had become much more cautious; even Gou Dan and Xiao Mazi had wept on the road. To describe them now as grasshoppers on the same string would be no exaggeration.

Liu Shao then recounted, meticulously and in full detail, the incident with the child buying lanterns to Tian Guoqiang and the others. The story terrified them, causing them to gasp and sigh repeatedly.

“Young Master Gou, are you saying that the paper money you handed over might have been the change that little boy gave you back?” After hearing so much, the reasonably clear-headed Tian Guoqiang finally grasped the core of the matter, truly experiencing firsthand why Liu Shao had been so terrified moments ago. He figured he wouldn't fare much better himself!

“Not possibly, it’s definite!” Liu Shao asserted with certainty.

“Oh, mother of—” Hearing Liu Shao’s completely affirmative statement, Gou Dan, the most timid of the four, slid right off the pile of husks, tumbling into a ball.

“So, what should we do now? My mom said once a ghost latches onto you, it’s a huge problem. This thing doesn't eat or drink, doesn't know fatigue, it just follows you day and night. But the sun during the day is too strong, so it usually doesn’t dare come out, but once night falls…” As he said this, the dusty Gou Dan’s voice faded into a mosquito’s whine.

“What happens at night?” Liu Shao sneered.

“It makes you its substitute, and then it goes reincarnate. You become a wrongfully dead ghost, and then you have to go harm someone else,” Gou Dan muttered, rubbing his neck and making a chopping motion, speaking with utter conviction.

Indeed, the concept of a substitute had been widely circulated since ancient times. In the eyes of sorceresses and charlatans, those who died unnatural deaths—drowning, burning, hanging, or being hit by a vehicle—all fell under the category of ‘wrongfully dead spirits.’

Precisely because they were wrongfully dead, the Yama King of the Underworld would not accept them. Other ghosts could be assigned to the Six Paths of Reincarnation to choose rebirth, but these could only wander the mortal realm as forlorn, lonely spirits. If you wished to attain rebirth, there was only one path open to you: you had to harm another person in the exact spot where you died, making them your substitute so you could finally enter the cycle of reincarnation!

Although this theory lacked empirical grounding, countless real-life cases vividly substantiated it. For instance, if a person drowned in a river, one or two more people would die in that same body of water the following year or the year after. The same held true for car accident sites. A small addition here: most ghosts are merely fragile spiritual entities and cannot directly harm people. However, they can use illusions to confuse and frighten you, leading you to misjudge situations and achieve their goals. Therefore, most people can be said to have killed themselves. But as long as your will is firm and you are not swayed by external phenomena, the ghosts can do nothing to you.

While Gou Dan’s words held some logic, and Liu Shao’s experience didn't sound fabricated, Tian Guoqiang didn't entirely commit to the supernatural explanation. He just chuckled dismissively, “Gou Dan, it’s not that I’m criticizing you, but you’ve carried a schoolbag for three years and haven’t learned to arm yourself with advanced ideology and culture. Instead, you’re always messing around with feudal superstition and spreading nonsense. Next time there’s a call for intellectuals to be sent down to the countryside, I’ll be the first to report you to the organization!”

“Tian Guoqiang, let me tell you, if you dare badmouth me behind my back, I won't say a word. I’ll immediately grab a big placard, take the train to Beijing, and report your dad directly to Chairman Mao! The placard will read: Down with the vicious, man-eating Village Head Tian Qingshan.” Gou Dan shot back without yielding an inch.

“Damn it, report my dad? What did my dad ever do to you!” Tian Guoqiang was torn between laughter and tears.

“He didn’t do anything to me, but his son did!”

“Then report him! What exactly are you going to report?” Tian Guoqiang felt utterly cornered by Gou Dan.

“Since it’s a report, there are plenty of counts. For example, that foreign watch you’re wearing—the American President must have given it to you, demanding your dad act as a spy, colluding from the inside to try and steal the fruits of our great socialist family. And your dad’s hair—slicked back like a dog’s tail, just like those reactionary KMT leaders. Isn’t that restoring capitalism? Don’t glare at me. Also, your dad, a village head with no more influence than a hair, insisted on hiring a clerk, and a clerk is fine, but why must he hire a woman!” Once Gou Dan got started, his mouth was like an American devil’s howitzer; unstoppable.

“Isn't a female clerk more capable and meticulous…” Tian Guoqiang explained.

“Nonsense! Then why didn't he hire Old Granny Hu from the edge of the village as the clerk? Why pick a twenty-year-old girl? Don’t think I don’t know what your dad’s thinking. I’ve seen him several times, always staring at people’s chests and butts. He’s abusing his authority for personal gain, messing around! An old bull chasing young grass!”

“Pfft…” Liu Shao and Xiao Mazi, overhearing this, were highly amused. They exchanged knowing glances at Tian Guoqiang, laughing uncontrollably. Tian Guoqiang’s face cycled through green and purple, his fists clenched tightly; he was clearly furious.

Liu Shao knew that if he let the argument escalate, they might actually come to blows. He quickly pulled the two men apart, one on each side, speaking soothing words until their anger finally subsided.

“Young Master Gou, I’m not unconcerned about this matter, either,” Tian Guoqiang said after catching his breath and turning to Liu Shao. “The countryside is vast with many hollows; all sorts of things happen daily, so encountering this or that is unavoidable. How about this! Let’s go find Granny Guanhua. Let’s ask the old lady to cast some divination for us, check our fortune, alright?”

One should not fully believe in ghost lore, but conversely, one could not completely disbelieve it either. After all, whatever exists in the world must have a reason for its existence. The ‘Granny Guanhua’ Tian Guoqiang spoke of was a colloquial term for a type of female shaman—a village medium, or Yin-Yang master, in layman's terms. The only difference was that while the others were male, she was female.

Granny Guanhua’s surname was Fan. Because she was quite old and her hair was streaked with white, the neighbors, out of respect, called her Immortal Aunt Fan. Over time, as everyone kept calling her Immortal Aunt Fan, no one could clearly recall her actual given name.

Legend had it that before officially becoming a spiritual medium, Granny Guanhua was just an ordinary peasant woman.

One time, after returning from farm labor, she fell gravely ill, often feeling as if her soul was about to float out of her body. In her sleep, she constantly saw a strangely dressed person drawing talismans, claiming they wanted to take her as an apprentice.

She visited the clinic doctor for a long time without improvement. Later, her family took her to a great immortal in the town. That master told her she was inherently a spiritual person, and if she followed the instructions of the figure in her dreams, and kept an incense burner at home burning morning and night, her health would recover once her Celestial Eye opened.

Later, after recovering from her illness, Granny Guanhua indeed became a medium, taking over from that great immortal.

The reason Tian Guoqiang knew about Granny Guanhua stemmed from an incident years prior.

A few years ago, Granny Guanhua visited his home as a guest. Coincidentally, a neighbor auntie was chatting at Village Head Tian’s house, holding her small grandson, a very cherubic two-year-old boy.

A while later, after the neighbor auntie left, Granny Guanhua shook her head and told Tian Guoqiang’s mother lightly, “This neighbor’s child will be hard to raise; even if he grows up, he will drain a lot of money and resources.”

Tian Guoqiang was present and heard their conversation. His first reaction was that this ugly old woman was trying to act mysterious, likely holding a grudge against the neighbor auntie and attempting to swindle her family.

But unexpectedly, not long after, the child indeed fell ill! He suffered from persistent fever, loss of appetite, and paleness, gradually developing an enlarged abdomen. Finally, the town hospital diagnosed him with a strange illness, and he passed away the next day. From that moment, Tian Guoqiang subconsciously accepted the existence of this feudal figure. Hmm, that old woman is indeed ugly, but she does know a thing or two.

On another occasion, an infant in the nearby Xiushan Village died from an illness and was buried in a mass grave. The child’s mother later had two more pregnancies, but neither child survived past a few months. In desperation, eager to have a child, she sought out Granny Guanhua, hoping she could offer a solution. After asking for her address, Granny Guanhua burned a stick of high-quality incense, entered a trance, observed the situation, and said, “Your previous child’s corpse has not decomposed, so he cannot reincarnate. He is clinging to you. You must dig him up and burn him to ashes.” The woman returned, half-believing, half-doubting. She hired someone to excavate the infant from the mass grave and, upon inspection, found that the body had indeed not decayed; it had turned into a dried corpse!

After burning the infant’s remains, she bore another son, and this time, thankfully, he survived, growing up healthy and safe. In gratitude, the mother brought Granny Guanhua three baskets of eggs. However, there was one strange detail: the villagers all said—though no one knew why—that this boy looked almost exactly like the child who had died before…