In the Northeast, due to climate considerations, rice cultivation yields only two harvests, unlike the South. Seedlings for the early rice are started about ten days after the New Year. The late rice isn't planted until after mid-November. When the early rice is being transplanted, the call of the cuckoo echoes throughout the mountains and fields, and the farmers chant, “Huo xiang ba po, ba ni waipo.” The sounds of these eight characters closely mimic the cuckoo’s call. This period is known as the "Double Harvest" and the busy farming season.

On this particular day, Tian Guoqiang had gone to the town to report on his studies, leaving the profoundly bored Young Master Liu sitting alone on a stone block at the edge of the village, staring blankly into the distance.

“Nephew! Little nephew!”

Young Master Liu turned his head to see Village Chief Tian, Tian Guoqiang’s father, waving at him from a patch of shade.

He hadn't seen the man for only a few days, yet his stoop seemed even more pronounced.

“Come over here, let’s have a talk.”

Young Master Liu didn't move; he just hung his head, continuing to lean against the crooked tree and humming a tune.

At this moment, he could see several ghosts leaping about like fighting cocks, as if they had consumed some powerful stimulant or were preparing for their next reincarnation as poultry.

Village Chief Tian, naturally, could not see them. He merely shuddered slightly as a ghost passed through him, letting out a sneeze.

Seeing that Young Master Liu made no move to approach, the Village Chief walked over himself.

“How have the last few days been?” Village Chief Tian pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered it toward Young Master Liu.

Usually, when Village Chief Tian offered a smoke, he did so grudgingly, offering a single cigarette. If he needed a favor, he might offer two. Seeing the entire pack shoved toward him today, Young Master Liu immediately understood that the man was in some kind of trouble and needed his help.

And it was surely something difficult.

Young Master Liu felt too awkward to take too many; taking too much would make him seem unsophisticated. He carefully selected three cigarettes, slipping them into his pocket to keep from crushing them, then tucked one behind each ear, and held a third between his lips. Lighting them with the Village Chief’s lighter, he took a drag before slowly saying, “Quite well.”

The Village Chief looked at Young Master Liu, appearing hesitant, as if he wanted to speak but couldn't quite bring himself to voice it. Then, clapping Young Master Liu on the shoulder, he said, “Come on, my treat today. Let’s go drink at my place.”

In Young Master Liu’s opinion, Village Chief Tian’s greatest flaw in this life was his stinginess.

The Liu and Tian families had been neighbors for so many years, and his own father, the honest Liu Laoshi, had never once been invited for a meal by this Tian fellow. For him to suddenly invite Young Master Liu for drinks now recalled the old saying—unsolicited favors usually mask ill intent.

Young Master Liu shook his head. “Maybe another time.”

The Village Chief grabbed his arm: “My treat! And I’ll cook a bowl of fatty pork belly! Tell me whatever you want to eat!” Young Master Liu felt disgusted by the lingering presence of those dead children around the Chief and had maintained his distance, but now up close, he noticed the man’s face was pale, framed by deep dark circles under his eyes, and his pupils were bloodshot—as if he hadn’t slept in days.

Without waiting for a reply, the Village Chief hurried to the village’s sole grain and oil supply point and exchanged a stack of ration coupons for two slabs of pork belly so fatty they looked ready to be rendered into lard.

He was certainly paying a high price for this.

Young Master Liu decided to humor him and see what the matter was. If he could help, he would; after all, being a solitary man, he couldn't imagine what the Chief would want from him. If he couldn't help and the Chief felt slighted, at worst, he could return the gesture by treating the Chief to some peanuts at Big Head’s snack stall.

As the two walked back, the Village Chief swayed slightly, and the child strapped to his back jiggled with every step. The child was bloody, unable to open its eyes, clinging desperately to the Chief’s back, occasionally wriggling. From a distance, it looked like he was carrying a large, red tortoise shell.

Once inside the house, the Village Chief immediately turned and bolted the door from the inside.

“Why lock the door?” Young Master Liu asked.

The Village Chief replied, “You’ll leave through the other door in a moment. I won’t be working tonight… See clearly, is the door locked?”

“It’s locked.” This man was truly getting old; he didn't even trust what he had just done.

The Chief’s single-story house had been renovated and was somewhat presentable, featuring a living area at the front and living quarters in the back, with a separate door for each section.

The front room reeked of pickled vegetables. A partition wall divided the space, but there was no door, only a cloth curtain hanging in the opening. This room, supposedly an extra accommodation granted by the organization, was actually quite small, containing only a wooden plank bed in the center. The white sheet was washed to a dull gray, covered in brown stains underneath. The cement floor also bore patches of dark marks, making it look dirty.

The Village Chief seemed to dislike this small, single room and quickly moved past it.

Behind the living room was a small courtyard where a clothesline was strung between two bamboo poles, holding freshly washed blue-checkered sheets.

The Village Chief turned and locked the bedroom door, then asked Young Master Liu again, “See? Locked tight?”

If he added, ‘You can’t escape now,’ Young Master Liu would be justified in thinking the man was lusting after his beauty and crying for help while clutching his chest. For a married middle-aged man, the Village Chief’s vigilance was almost excessive.

The Village Chief examined the lock, then looked at the suspicious Young Master Liu, finally patting his shoulder with relief. “Come on, let’s go in and drink.”

The Tian family's living room was quite spacious. The Village Chief placed the provisions on the table, dragged over two stools, and beckoned Young Master Liu to start eating.

Although he had bought a feast that smelled undeniably delicious, facing the dead child on the Chief’s back made Young Master Liu lose his appetite. The Village Chief sat down silently, downing cup after cup of yellow liquor, occasionally glancing stealthily at Young Master Liu, looking as if he had something to say but couldn't utter it. He would then sigh miserably and continue drinking.

Watching the unfortunate child slumped against the Chief’s back made drinking utterly unpleasant. Young Master Liu set his cup down on the table and said, “Village Chief, whatever you need to say, just say it plainly. We’re both grown men; don’t be so coy.”

The Village Chief sighed deeply. “Nephew, alas! If I tell you, you definitely won't believe me…”

Young Master Liu leaned in eagerly to hear the rest, but the Chief merely sighed again, saying, “No, if I tell you, you’ll just think I’m crazy.”

Damn it, I already think you’re crazy! Young Master Liu nearly exploded.

He had called him over, yet he was being so secretive. Just as Young Master Liu was about to leave, the Village Chief said, “Nephew, I have some braised dried tofu in my cupboard; let’s bring it out to go with our drinks!”

Young Master Liu agreed and walked over to open the cupboard. On the second shelf sat a human head. The second shelf also held leftover stir-fried green peppers and eggs, and the third shelf held a plate of braised dried tofu.

Young Master Liu spotted the head immediately. It was a woman’s face, eyes closed, half the scalp peeled back, exposing half the skull.

Young Master Liu slammed the cupboard door shut, realizing with dread that the fortune teller he had never met was actually right—his eyes could see all sorts of strange things.

The Village Chief asked nervously, “What’s wrong? What did you see?”

Young Master Liu figured the Chief couldn't see the head and didn't want to frighten him, so he quickly said, “Nothing, nothing, my hand slipped.” He then forced a calm expression and reopened the cupboard door.

“Oh,” the Village Chief said.

As soon as he spoke, the woman’s head suddenly snapped its eyes open, staring directly at Young Master Liu. The look in its eyes was utterly venomous, as if it would fly out and bite him in the next second.

Young Master Liu quickly snatched the plate of dried tofu and shut the cupboard door.

Returning to his seat with the tofu, he noticed the Village Chief staring intently at him. “How was it?”

“What do you mean, how was it?”

The Village Chief scrutinized Young Master Liu for a moment, then suddenly exhaled in relief, letting out a couple of chuckles, as if a great weight had been lifted from his heart. “Drink, drink! Come, Nephew, I toast you.”