Das Leben der Landbevölkerung in der Stadt während der Song-Dynastie

Kapitel 67

Reaching the village entrance, he inexplicably felt utterly exhausted, utterly drained of energy. Seeing the banyan tree's thick trunk, he felt an urge to lean against it and take a nap. Looking at its dark brown, rough bark and the numerous aerial roots hanging from its branches, he felt a sense of homecoming. Perhaps it was related to his childhood; when he was young, there was also a sturdy banyan tree outside his house. In the summer, he often hid in its enormous shade and took a nap. Looking at this banyan tree, he suddenly felt a wave of nostalgia, as if he had returned to his childhood. The canopy stretched out in all directions like an umbrella, its narrow, oval leaves swaying gently in the breeze. Countless aerial roots sprouted from the branching branches, floating in the air. The upper parts of these roots were brown, gradually fading in color as they extended, finally turning a pale white at the tips. The shade of the tree was a vast expanse of light, blocking the intense sunlight overhead; standing beneath it, one could feel an inexplicable coolness and comfort.

Yu Guang ran into the shade of the trees, and the cool breeze on his face was incredibly pleasant. He suddenly had the urge to lie down and take a nap.

However, he was also a little puzzled. Such large banyan trees usually only grow in subtropical southern regions, so how could one grow in this remote, desolate mountain village in the southwest? The climate here must be very strange...

As he pondered this, he plopped down on the ground. The ground was cool, and a faint chill crept up his backside, sending a shiver down his spine. Why did he feel this way? Yu Guang wondered, but in this sweltering heat, such a cool sensation was quite pleasant.

Yu Guang lay down on his back amidst the astonished gazes of the crowd, his eyes half-closed. In his hazy state, he seemed to return to his childhood, lying under the big banyan tree outside his house, letting the gentle breeze caress his face. His friends were always trying to keep him from sleeping peacefully, constantly waving their feet across his face. One of his friends had particularly large feet, and they all called him Big Feet.

In a daze, out of the corner of his eye, he seemed to see the child named Big Feet again, stroking his face with his enormous feet. Wait a minute! The enormous feet!

In that half-asleep state, Yu Guangguang told himself that he seemed to really see a pair of large feet! Swinging back and forth right above his line of sight! Yu Guangguang opened his eyes. Yes, there really was a pair of feet!

A pair of extra-large feet!

Swaying back and forth in the dense foliage of the banyan tree! Yu Guang jumped up as if struck by lightning, looking up. A burly, naked body was vaguely visible among the dense leaves, swaying in the wind. His neck was suspended from a thick rope to the trunk, roots dangling from branches, swirling and coiling around him. His tongue protruded from his mouth, a ring of dark red bruises surrounded his neck, his face was deathly pale, and his eyes were wide open, staring intently into the distance.

Despite the distorted features, a glance from the corner of his eye revealed that the dead man hanging from the tree was none other than San'er, the coffin bearer who had been ordered to leave the village to report the crime the previous night! San'er is dead! What does this mean?

This means that no one called the police, and no police officers will come to the Cursed Village today.

He was hanged here while everyone else went to the night burial, which means that in this village, besides Wang Laomo, there are other murderers hiding in the shadows, secretly watching them! In an instant, Yu Guang felt his head spin even more!

25

The most horrifying state of death after an unnatural death is that of someone who has hanged themselves. While there's no dramatic, bloody gruesome scene, the body of someone who has hanged resembles a frozen, lifeless piece of pork in an ice cellar, exuding a chilling and eerie terror. Shen Tian climbed the banyan tree and retrieved the three children's bodies.

The three children lay supine under the massive shade of the banyan tree, their bellies horribly swollen, their bodies emitting a foul odor. Their black lips parted slightly, revealing two rows of ghastly white teeth, the tip of their tongues protruding slightly between them. Their lifeless eyes were wide open, their faces flushed a purplish-red, and traces of white foam remained on their jaws, clearly seeping from their lips. This sight caught Yu Guang's eye, and a sharp pain shot through his lower abdomen, his throat churning with an unknown liquid. He swallowed hard, managing to suppress the urge. Weng Beibei couldn't help but turn her head away; she couldn't bear to look at such a gruesome corpse. Only Wu Yong, seemingly unaffected, gently stroked the three children's wide-open eyes. Like a lamp being extinguished, the three children's corpses suddenly lost their luster.

One of the burly men carrying the coffin behind them muttered, "It must be ghosts coming to claim our lives. We spoke during the night burial, and now we're all doomed..."

Before he could finish speaking, the burly men who had been watching trembled, then turned and ran as fast as they could, leaving no one behind except for Yu Guang and his three companions. Yu Guang sighed.

"Professor Yu, what do we do now?" Shen Tian asked.

Yu Guang frowned, turned back, and asked, "What do you think?"

Shen Tian straightened his chest and said, "Let's leave here and walk for five hours along the mountain path. Even if someone tries to cause trouble in the shadows, Wu Yong and I can protect you and Bei Bei with our abilities."

Wu Yong sighed softly, "I'm afraid the person who's been secretly plotting this has already figured it out; he's already blocked our way out."

"What's the meaning?"

“I’ve read a lot of detective novels, from elementary school until now, at least three hundred, if not five hundred. We’re currently in a situation like many detective novels, in a closed and isolated place. Cutting the telephone line is one way to isolate us, and killing the three who tipped us off is another. The Cursed Village isn’t far from the nearest town, but it’s not exactly close either. But leaving here would break the isolation, which is definitely something the murderer doesn’t want. He must have noticed this, so he’ll block our way out. I guess the mountain road leading out of the village now is either a bridge that’s been demolished or a treacherous mountain road that’s been destroyed,” Wu Yong replied somberly.

Shen Tian's expression changed: "No matter what, we have to try. As long as there's even a one percent chance, we have to give it our all!" "Alright, let's try! But we haven't slept or eaten all night. Let's find a place to fill our stomachs first." Yu Guang stood up and said slowly.

"Where are we going to find something to eat? I'm afraid the food at the village chief's house might have been poisoned by bad people. Don't forget, Lü Tugen was poisoned by some unknown toxin," Wu Yong reminded him. Yu Guang helplessly looked up, his gaze slowly sweeping over the neatly arranged rooftops of the village, finally landing on the white villa nestled among the green trees on the hillside behind the village—the Zhao family mansion! Yu Guang politely knocked on the animal-shaped ring on the brass door, making a deep sound.

Old Chen slowly opened the door with a gloomy expression.

"I'm so sorry to bother you, there was a slight problem with our burial last night..."

Before Yu Guang could finish speaking, Old Chen interrupted, "Is he calling to make a phone call? It's infuriating! Last night, Mr. Zhao was talking to the publisher when the call inexplicably cut off. I went out to check early this morning, and it turned out that not only had the phone line been cut outside Village Chief Wang's house, but several hundred meters of telephone line had also been stolen. I really don't know what these thieves were thinking. There's no copper wire in telephone lines, what use is that stuff? Later, Mr. Zhao asked me to help him take the revised manuscript to the internet cafe in town to upload it, but I turned back halfway there. I don't know who's so heartless as to demolish a bridge. I'll have to wait until this afternoon to have the village chief bring a few strong men to fix it..."

Upon hearing this, Yu Guang felt a gloom descend upon him. Zhao Lianpu, dressed in pajamas, sat in a wicker chair in the study, his face full of displeasure. It was probably because the manuscript hadn't been successfully sent out.

When he saw Yu Guang and the others, he forced a smile: "Welcome, welcome! What brings you all here? How was the night burial last night? I was just about to come and ask you. I've been here for so long, but I haven't had a chance to see what a night burial is all about."

Yu Guang asked curiously, "You haven't seen a night burial yet?"

Zhao Lianpu smiled wryly: "Sigh... To be honest, I'm a coward, I don't dare to go see it at night."

"Ha!" Yu Guang laughed, "You write thriller novels, how could you be a coward?"

Zhao Lianpu chuckled: "You think that people who write thrillers have to be brave? You're wrong. The more timid a person is, the more sensitive they are to the appearance and essence of fear. Courage isn't a measure of a person's writing ability, but rather it's related to the subtlety of their inner self. This relationship is often inversely proportional; the braver you are, the less you feel the pleasure of fear."

"That makes sense!" Yu Guang praised.

"By the way, tell me about what you saw yesterday. I'm looking for a scene to use in my novel," Zhao Lianpu urged. Yu Guang coughed and replied, "We've come here today with quite a bit of news, perhaps a thousand times more terrifying than your thriller novel. There are many unbelievable aspects, and perhaps even a shocking conspiracy." "Oh?!" Zhao Lianpu was taken aback.

Section 11

26

Zhao Lianpu leaned forward, listening intently to Yu Guang's account. Wu Yong added his own comments as he spoke.

After listening, Zhao Lianpu said with a gloomy expression, "I've never heard of such a bizarre thing in all my years of writing detective novels. It's really too strange. A sinister night burial would actually encounter a hypnotized monster, and the person who brought the message was actually..."

He was then mysteriously hanged from a banyan tree. This place is truly eerie!

Old Chen stammered in response, "Are there really ghosts in this world?"

Shen Tian immediately exclaimed, "How can there be ghosts in this world? There must be someone hiding in the shadows plotting something."

Zhao Lianpu glanced at Shen Tian approvingly and said, "That's right, there are no ghosts in this world. Even if we think they exist, it's because someone is secretly trying to make us believe they do. What we need to do now is find out who is secretly plotting against us."

Old Chen's lips trembled a few times before he said, "Could all of this have been done by those people in the back mountain?"

Zhao Lianpu glared at him: "Don't talk nonsense!"

Old Chen fell silent. Yu Guang, having overheard Old Chen's words, immediately perked up: "Wait a minute, what's this about those people you were talking about on the back hill?"

Zhao Lianpu rolled his eyes, sensing that this question was difficult to answer.

"What exactly happened?" Wu Yong and Shen Tian were both curious.

“Alright, I’ll talk. Originally, this had nothing to do with us. I came here just to find a quiet place to write my book and didn’t want to get involved in pointless trouble. But, it seems we’ve gone a bit too far this time…” Zhao Lianpu thought for a moment and said.

"Did you see that banyan tree when you entered the village?" Zhao Lianpu asked this question instead of asking it at the beginning.

Seeing everyone nodding, he continued, "Don't you find it strange? Banyan trees usually grow in subtropical regions, so how come they're growing in this southwestern mountain village?"

"It's probably related to the climate. The weather here is probably different from other places," Weng Beibei replied.

"Yes! The climate here is very unique. Although it is located in the southwest corner, it is similar to the subtropics, with only a dry season and a rainy season throughout the year. Such a climate is truly rare."

Shen Tian grew impatient: "What's the purpose of your questioning about the climate here? What does it have to do with the people you mentioned earlier who live on the back mountain?"

Zhao Lianpu gestured for him to calm down and said, "Don't rush, let me explain slowly."

He lit a cigarette, slowly inhaled, and said, "The climate here is very strange, quite similar to that of Yunnan and Myanmar. The soil in the high mountain areas is also very fertile, making it a good place to grow certain plants."

Yu Guang's heart skipped a beat; he had already discerned the unspoken meaning in Zhao Lianpu's words: "You mean..."

“That’s right, the climate here is very suitable for growing opium poppies!” Zhao Lianpu replied, “There’s a group of outsiders secretly growing poppies in the gullies behind the mountain.” “Really?” Shen Tian exclaimed, “Then why didn’t you call the police?”

Zhao Lianpu said sadly, "It's not that I don't want to call the police. The previous owner of this villa did call the police, but before they even arrived, he was killed in the bathtub, naked, with a huge hole in his throat, and blood flowing all over the room. When the police came, they couldn't find the place where the opium was grown, nor could they find the murderer."

"When was that?" Yu Guang asked.

"That happened more than half a year ago. I bought this villa at a bargain price after the previous owner died. But I really don't have the guts to report these opium growers. Who can guarantee that these opium growers aren't colluding with the police? I could tell the police one minute and they'd pass the information on to the opium growers the next. Do I want to die? Do I have a death wish?"

It must be admitted that Zhao Lianpu's words make sense.

Yu Guang pondered for a moment, then said, "It seems very likely. Those bad guys from the back mountain saw the three boys running wildly at midnight, assumed they were going to call the police, and killed them. They then worried that someone had instructed them to call the police, so they sank the bridge over the river and hung his body in a tree as a warning to others. Maybe those guys are currently wandering around the village, looking for someone who could harm them; maybe they're even outside this villa right now..." Upon hearing this, Zhao Lianpu shuddered. "No way..."

Old Chen quickly said, "Don't be afraid. We have high walls and a compound here, and the walls are even covered with broken glass. No one can climb over. Besides, we have a Black German Shepherd, a purebred. It will bark if anyone comes in. Its bark is terrifying; it'll scare away any bad guys!"

"Really?" Zhao Lianpu was still skeptical. Before he could finish speaking, a wolfhound suddenly barked wildly in the courtyard outside.

"Woof woof woof—woof woof woof—woof woof woof—" The expressions of everyone in the room changed drastically.

27

The barking of dogs rose and fell in waves, as if they had gone mad, their voices sharp and high-pitched, soaring into the sky.

The person inside was ashen-faced and trembling. What had provoked the wolfhounds' barking? Had strangers really broken into this high-walled compound? Who were they? Could they be the group of outsiders who cultivated poppies in the back hills?

Zhao Lianpu stood up, gave Old Chen a look, and Old Chen quickly left the room. After a moment, he returned with a hunting rifle. It was a double-barreled rifle; although it was quite old, the barrel was polished to a shine with tung oil, and a fresh smell of tung oil mingled with the gunpowder fumes, making one want to sneeze. Zhao Lianpu ordered the lights in the second-floor room to be turned off, slowly drew back the curtains, and stood behind them, extending the rifle barrel out the window.

There was no one in sight outside the corridor directly opposite the main gate; only the barking of the wolfhound could be heard.

Sunlight streamed directly into the lotus pond beside the corridor, reflecting a dazzling light, but this did not impair Zhao Lianpu's vision in the slightest. He squinted one eye, while keeping the other fixed on the sight.

Aside from the howling of the wolfhounds, there was no other sound in the corridor. Yet, beneath this tranquility lay an extreme danger, a danger that was about to explode, like a powder keg just missing a spark. The wolfhound named Blackie had already sensed the lurking terror; it barked with all its might, its voice hoarse and desperate. Although it was confined to the mud-walled hut next to the villa, one could still sense that it was barking with almost all its strength and energy.

After aiming for a while, Zhao Lianpu couldn't find any target. He looked around and discovered a blind spot in the angle between the villa and the wall. There, a cluster of small-leaved boxwoods, about waist-high, was trembling slightly.

The boxwood bushes were growing very densely, and although Old Chen would occasionally prune them, they still blocked Zhao Lianpu's view at this moment.

Zhao Lianpu was almost certain that if someone had indeed entered, they were hiding behind that clump of small-leaved boxwood. This thief was incredibly audacious, daring to sneak into the Zhao family mansion in broad daylight—he was truly fearless. Zhao Lianpu sneered and turned to Yu Guang and the others, saying, "You don't know, do you? My marksmanship is excellent. Although I'm not very brave, dealing with a few petty thieves is a piece of cake."

He shook his arm, placed the gun barrel on the windowsill, and shouted, "You thieves outside! Listen up, your Grandpa Zhao isn't someone to be trifled with! Let me tell you, if you know what's good for you, go back inside, or I'll blow your heads off! I'll teach you a lesson first. Watch out for the light bulb on the brass door!"

Zhao Lianpu took a peek, then pulled the trigger. "Bang!" came a sharp sound, and the light bulb on the door shattered. "Good marksmanship!" Yu Guang and Wu Yong exclaimed in unison.

Zhao Lianpu put down his hunting rifle with a smug look on his face and said modestly, "Not at all, just a few petty thieves."

He looked out the window again. The clump of small-leaved boxwood in the corner had stopped trembling, and the dog's barking had gradually subsided. Perhaps the thief had really been scared away. Zhao Lianpu sat back in the rattan chair. Although he had been incredibly brave just now, his face was now deathly pale, and the lingering fear of the thief made him break out in a cold sweat.

"My God, these thieves dare to sneak into the house even during the day. Aren't they even bolder at night? Why did I turn off the lights just now? Didn't I just unintentionally make things easier for the thieves?"

Yu Guang quickly advised, "That's not quite right. Even if you didn't break the light bulb on the door, if thieves really want to come at night, they can still find a way to break the light bulb themselves."

“That makes sense, but how are we supposed to defend ourselves at night?” Zhao Lianpu, though an excellent marksman, now seemed timid.

"I think it would be best to find some strong men from the village to come to the house at night to help defend against the enemy," Shen Tian said preemptively.

“This method is not good!” Wu Yong said, “I think it is very likely that there is an inside agent of the thieves among the coffin bearers yesterday. Otherwise, how would the thieves know that the three of them went to the police? Maybe they also knew that the three of them went to the police because someone went missing, but they were afraid that the police would come and find out their secret of growing poppies, so they blocked the three of them from going to the police. The reason they have information must be that there is an inside agent among the coffin bearers.”

“That makes sense!” Zhao Lianpu sighed. “Don’t be fooled by my daily routine of sitting at home writing those lousy detective novels. When it comes to real crimes, I’m completely helpless.”

Yu Guang comforted him, "You can't say that. At least your detective novels are meticulously crafted and captivating. And your marksmanship is first-rate." Wu Yong suddenly asked, "Mr. Zhao, your marksmanship is so good, have you trained?"

"Oh, not at all. I'm not actually that well-educated. I just barely graduated from university and then managed to go abroad to an island nation in the Caribbean to work. The political situation there was unstable, and everyone carried a gun. I was stationed at a lighthouse on one of the islands, and when I had free time, I would go hunting. I spent a few years there, not making any money, but I heard a lot of dark and strange stories and developed a good marksmanship. The dark and strange stories gave me inspiration for my writing, but my marksmanship wasn't very useful, so I just went hunting in the mountains to play with guns. I never thought that my marksmanship would actually come in handy today," Zhao Lianpu replied.

"Oh, so that's how it is..." The group sighed inwardly. It turned out that a writer like Mr. Zhao had a secret history that no one knew about. "Old Chen, go and prepare some food. We need to be on high alert tonight, but the prerequisite is that we eat well and rest well," Zhao Lianpu instructed.

"Yes, Mr. Zhao," Old Chen replied, limping out of the house.

28

While Old Chen was busy preparing food in the kitchen, Zhao Lianpu, along with Yu Guang and the others, tightly closed all the windows on the first floor and even used a sofa to block the back door.

When they returned to the second floor, panting, Old Chen had already prepared a sumptuous lunch. Despite the remote location, Old Chen always managed to find suitable ingredients to cook a delicious and visually appealing meal. As everyone sat down at the table, Old Chen left, saying he was going to feed his wolfhound named Blackie in the mud-walled house next to the villa. In the center of the table was a pot of braised lion's head meatballs. Zhao Lianpu used his chopsticks to remove the top layer of green vegetable leaves, revealing the half-fried and braised meatballs underneath.

Upon seeing the lump of flesh, Weng Beibei suddenly felt nauseous. She remembered the shattered and reassembled head of Wang Laomo outside the grave in Dead Man's Gully. Acid gushed from her stomach; she felt unbearable, stood up, turned, and rushed out of the dining room, where she vomited violently.

Weng Beibei's actions immediately made everyone lose their appetite. They looked at the delicious food on the table but were unwilling to pick up a bite.

The meal was eaten in a somber mood by everyone. Yu Guang and the others only managed to eat the vegetables from the bowl to make do. When Old Chen returned to the house after feeding the dog, he saw everything, shook his head, and then filled a bowl with the remaining meat. He limped out the door again.

When Zhao Lianpu asked Old Chen where he had gone again, Old Chen replied without turning his head, "It's such a waste to throw this meat away, I'll give it to Hei Bei to eat..." With that, he disappeared through the doorway of the dining room. The dining room was silent; no one spoke. Everyone was preoccupied with their own thoughts and anxieties.

Will the thieves who planted opium on the back hill come back tonight? What kind of tricks will they use then? Yu Guang felt he should find something to break the silence, so he asked, trying to make conversation: "Mr. Zhao, you said before dinner that you went to a Caribbean country after graduating from university? What kind of place is that?"

A long-lost glint of light flashed in Zhao Lianpu's eyes. He replied, "That country is surrounded by the sea, picturesque, and spring-like all year round. It borders the Caribbean Sea to the south and the Atlantic Ocean to the north, with a coastline of over a thousand kilometers. Most of the country is mountainous, with only narrow plains along the coast. Such a beautiful place, yet due to its lack of mineral resources, is one of the poorest places in the world. My trip there was entirely by chance. Originally, I just wanted to travel around, but the ship I was on broke down when it reached that country, and I needed to..." I needed to rest for a few days. Reluctantly, I disembarked, but by chance, I met an elderly Chinese man who had lived there for many years. We hit it off immediately. He was a lighthouse keeper, and he took me to his lighthouse. Standing atop the lighthouse, looking down at the surging waves and the tiny crowds of people, I suddenly felt a strange sense of peace. I suddenly wanted to find a place to settle down, read books, write, listen to the waves crashing on the shore, and look at the moon hanging high in the sky. This was the epitome of a comfortable life! So I stayed in that country.