Vollständiges Metamorphose-Handbuch

Kapitel 7

Despite the dim lighting, she was certain the other person was wearing a mask. She could vaguely see a dark, indistinct slit around the edge of the mask.

She felt relieved.

His eyes seemed somewhat gloomy as he glanced around the dance floor, as if his attention wasn't on her at all.

"Are you looking for someone?" Yuan Xiaojiang finally asked.

He hesitated for a moment and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, I lost the mask I just bought on the stairs..."

Yuan Xiaojiang abruptly stopped dancing and stared at him: "Isn't the mask on your face?"

"Oh, this is my original one."

Then, he led her to continue jumping.

Masquerade (2)

"Go out and look for it in a little while," Yuan Xiaojiang said softly.

Actually, I'm looking for a girl.

"What girl?"

"She was wearing a witch's mask, and she disappeared in the blink of an eye."

What do you want with her?

"She was the last one to enter..."

She stopped dancing again, staring at him: "What does it matter?"

"Perhaps she found my mask."

Suddenly, he stared at a spot, his eyes widened, and his large hands twitched slightly.

She followed his gaze—the man had just put on her banshee mask! His face was turned towards her, motionless, like a mummy.

A thunderous sound seemed to echo from the ground, causing a slight tremor. The "demon" man's large hands trembled even more violently.

Yuan Xiaojiang let go of him and held her forehead with her hand.

He finally looked away and asked suspiciously, "What's wrong?"

"Sorry, I have a bit of a headache..."

"It's alright, you should go back and rest."

Yuan Xiaojiang turned away from him and quickly returned to the man from before, her heart pounding in her chest: "Take off your mask and get out of here!"

"What happened?" He took off his mask and stared intently at her.

"You're right, that horrible person is at the ball tonight!"

As she spoke, she removed her mask, threw it on the ground, and hurried towards the exit. He followed behind her, pressing her for details: "Was it the person you were dancing with just now?"

"That's him!"

Upon reaching the exit, Yuan Xiaojiang looked back. The man wearing the demon mask seemed to have discovered a flaw. He stared intently at her amidst the chaotic crowd and walked straight towards her.

Terrified, she scrambled up the narrow, steep stairs as fast as she could. It was raining outside, with thunder and lightning. It was nearly midnight, and there wasn't a single taxi waiting for her.

The man, who was as sharp as a policeman, followed her up the stairs and asked loudly, "Do you have a car?"

"No!"

He strode towards a car, pulled out a remote to open the door, and said without turning his head, "Get in, I'll give you a ride!"

Yuan Xiaojiang hurriedly jumped into his car.

She looked out the car window and saw the man in the demon mask had climbed out of the underground bar and was looking around in the rain. His face was terrifying under the streetlights.

Thank goodness, the car drove away.

Yuan Xiaojiang leaned back in her seat, let out a long sigh, and said wearily, "By the way, just drop me off at the gate of the Academy of Fine Arts' residential area."

As he drove, he shouted, "That's how the world is. Some people wear masks, but you think they're not; some people don't wear masks, but you think they are!"

Yuan Xiaojiang closed her eyes, still shaken.

He probably saw it, but didn't say anything more.

The image of that demon mask kept replaying in Yuan Xiaojiang's mind: a green face, dark circles under the eyes, and uneven teeth...

After walking for an unknown distance, she suddenly opened her eyes and asked, "Why aren't you wearing a mask to the masquerade ball?"

The car started to bump, and he gripped the steering wheel intently: "Who said I wasn't wearing one?"

In fact, the moment Yuan Xiaojiang asked the question, she witnessed a horrifying fact—the car had already driven into the countryside! She asked in alarm, "What are you doing!"

“This face is my mask,” he said as he parked the car next to a dark grove of trees.

Another bombshell.

Yuan Xiaojiang stared at him blankly.

He said softly, "It's me. I take a girl away from the masquerade ball every time."

The Invisible Son-in-Law

On the surface, this is a normal family: a man and a woman, the husband leaves early and returns late, and the wife stays at home sewing and cooking... In reality, the so-called husband does not exist at all.

The Invisible Son-in-Law (1)

My hometown is Jue Lun Di Town, located in the northernmost part of China. It's a place of ice and snow, with blue skies and white earth.

My great-aunt died when I was 26 years old.

In my memory, she was dressed in black, with a pale complexion.

Her small feet looked like two rice dumplings. She often sat cross-legged on the earthen bed, smoking a long pipe.

The earthen bed was covered with a sorghum stalk mat, worn red from wear, with black grime in the gaps.

Her eyes were stern, even somewhat malicious. She had lived her whole life adhering to the strict etiquette of the old era, and in her old age, she established numerous rules, making her children, grandchildren, and daughters-in-law all afraid of her.

My great-aunt lived in a village called Julong, which was 30 li away from Jue Lun Di town. I hurried there.

I really dislike Chinese-style funerals; they dilute the grief and leave only the bizarre and terrifying.

I had long ago instructed my relatives and friends: when I die, do not send me wreaths, and do not hold any traditional funeral rites; simply place fresh flowers beside me. A solemn expression is all that is needed. At least, do not smile.

My aunt's house was at the far east end of the village. A long bamboo pole stretched out from the high courtyard wall, with 74 sheets of white paper hanging from it, symbolizing the age of the deceased. The white paper rustled in the wind, as if telling outsiders that someone in the family had passed away.

I entered the courtyard and saw that a mourning tent had been set up. People were coming and going; they were all relatives and neighbors.

In the center of the empty courtyard, a large, ornately decorated coffin sat upright, painted with scenes from the "Twenty-Four Filial Exemplars": "Throwing Himself into the River to Find His Father," "Lying on the Ice to Catch Carp," "Zilu Carrying Rice," "Huang Xiang Fanning His Pillow," "Lu Ji Carrying Oranges," "Lao Lai Amusing His Parents," "The Crying of Bamboo Shoots," and "Guo Ju Burying His Son"...

My uncles, aunts, and cousins were all dressed in mourning clothes, all in white, and their faces were somber.

They led me into the main room.

The main room was deep and a bit dark. I saw my great-aunt lying on the ground.

She was dressed in a brown silk shroud, her face was covered with yellow paper, her feet were tied with tripping ropes, and she held a dog-beating stick and dog-beating food in her pale hands.

According to the rules, she should also have a copper coin in her mouth, called "pressing some kind of coin".

As soon as I entered this compound, I felt a sense of oppression.

I know nothing about funerals and can't help in any way, so I just stood outside the courtyard gate, trying to calm my mind.

Looking down the dirt road into the village, I thought of Tian Gaigai. She lived at the far west end of the village. She spoke softly and always seemed timid...

Because I often visited my great-aunt's house, her mother liked me very much. She even said to Tian Gaigai, "If my Gaigai can find a young man like you when she grows up, that will be a blessing."

Later, I often dreamed of her. I haven't seen her for several years, and I wonder what she looks like now.

After daybreak, it was time for the encoffining. The great-aunt was carried out of the main room. A black cloth was covered her face, signifying that she should not see the light of day.

My aunt knelt in front of the coffin and screamed shrilly, "Mom!—" Then her children and grandchildren burst into tears.

Several strong men were about to nail together a coffin.

Long nails.

As they nailed the coffin to the south, the deacon shouted, "You should turn north and hide!"

As they nailed the coffin to the north end, the deacon shouted, "You should turn south and hide!"

Weddings and funerals are always chaotic and noisy.

As dusk approached, a very tall man arrived. He seemed to be there to pay his respects as well, but he stood in a corner of the courtyard, neither bowing nor kowtowing. He kept staring at the large, ornate coffin.

I observed carefully, and it seemed that no one knew him.

My aunt was very brave; she kept vigil after dark. I wanted to experience it, so I went to the yard and sat with her.

I know that keeping vigil is just a formality; the only real thing to do is to prevent cats, dogs, chickens, and the like from walking near the coffin, lest the dead "borrow" its energy and rise from the dead.

Everyone was exhausted after a long day and went to sleep. Someone's dog was barking listlessly.

A breeze made the white paper outside the courtyard wall tremble even more violently in the dark air: "Palataloo, patteral..."

Offerings were placed at the head of the coffin, and an ever-burning lamp was lit.

It was a small plate filled with oil, with a cotton wick sticking out, the flame flickering like a bean in the wind, sometimes bright and sometimes dim.

My aunt was burning paper money one by one in a basin in front of the coffin. The coffin was already nailed up, and I don't know what my great-aunt's expression was now.

It was just the two of us left. I was a little scared, so I started chatting with my aunt.

"Is that Tian Gaigai still in this village?"

My aunt paused for a moment, then said, "She's been dead for half a year."

I was a little shocked: "How could he have died?"

My aunt sighed and began to tell me.

After graduating from high school, Tian Gaigai became a private teacher in a school with earthen houses, courtyards, tables, and chairs.

Once, she was sent to the county town for training, where she met a male teacher from another town, surnamed Jiang. Within just two months, she fell deeply in love with him.

After their studies ended, they returned to their respective hometowns, and there was little news of each other.

Back then, only the village office had a hand-cranked telephone. If Tian Gaigai wanted to make a long-distance call to that male teacher, she first had to connect to the main switchboard in the small town, then transfer to the county switchboard. From the county switchboard, she had to transfer to the town switchboard, then to the village's telephone, asking someone nearby to come to the school and find him…

The trouble involved was even less than walking there to meet.