Bloodstained Clothes for Ghost Festival

Chapter 11

"Who would want to die with you, you old bones?"

"I know you still have unresolved matters on your mind. If you don't dare to perish with me, then let's end this feud!"

"No way! You can't beat me!" the ghost said, looking at Bian Jizhong with his eyes darting around.

"Then I only have one question: Why did you kill your own people? Just because you couldn't bear to watch them die one by one, is that it?"

"You don't need to know, and you'll never have the chance to know!"

Bian Jizhong suddenly let out a shrill scream and fell straight down like a log!

"Pick up the dagger, kill that woman, and then kill your great-grandson! Now!"

As the ghost spoke, it slowly extended its palms, but nothing could be seen. The figures of Mr. Bian and the Tian mother and daughter opposite me suddenly blurred, and I realized that the space in front of me seemed to be distorted, like looking at something over a burning stove, with the scenery opposite appearing to ripple.

Old man Sun stretched out his palms and struggled to resist, holding his own against the ghost.

Bian Jizhong was in a dormant state again. He picked up the dagger woodenly and walked stiffly toward Mother Tian.

"No! No!" Tian Juan screamed in terror!

"Great-Grandpa, wake up!" Mr. Bian also lost his composure.

Old Mr. Sun looked anxiously at Bian Jizhong, wanting to speak, but after shaking his head several times, he couldn't open his mouth, and large beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. The ghost's lips curled into a wicked smile, and his eyes gleamed with evil light as he watched Bian Jizhong's every move.

Bian Jizhong raised the dagger, about to walk up to Tian's mother.

"Dad, no!" A child's voice suddenly came from my right. Was it Jiang Ping?

That's right, it was Jiang Ping's voice!

"Dad, it's me, Ah Xiong. Please don't make the same mistake again!"

The ghost stared at Jiang Ping in disbelief, its eyes wide. Suddenly, its body flew backward, letting out a scream, and it crashed to the ground, unable to move.

He struggled to stand up, but he couldn't manage it.

"Are you really Ah Xiong?" the ghost's voice trembled.

Old Mr. Sun took out something that looked like a small earthenware jar and said, "Let it end! Let it all end. Let me collect your souls and help them pass on!"

Bian Jizhong had just come to his senses when he heard these words, and he immediately knelt down and kowtowed repeatedly: "Thank you!"

Old Mr. Sun closed his eyes and recited a passage. Bian Jizhong's ghost gradually shrank, then suddenly transformed into a beam of white light and flew into the small earthenware jar. Old Mr. Sun took out a small talisman and sealed the mouth of the jar.

He then picked up a small jar.

The ghost bit its own tongue, spat out a mouthful of black blood, and smeared it on its face, making it look exceptionally terrifying.

"Don't make any rash moves, let me finish speaking! I can escape at any time, you won't be able to catch me! Otherwise, I'll make sure your descendants suffer the bloody punishment!"

Mr. Sun stopped.

"Dad, it's me!" It was Jiang Ping speaking, but the voice wasn't his, and the expression was definitely that of a child.

“We all missed you all after you left. Elder Asong died, and Sister Mushroom next door and her mother also died. So many people died.”

Later, Brother Dahe secretly swam back from the river, and we were all very happy to wait for your return. But we waited for a long time, and you still didn't come back.

"The army is ruthless. They set up machine guns at the forest's exit, preventing anyone from leaving. That crazy old man at the village entrance was killed by them; his body is rotting and no one dares to collect it. We all believe you will definitely come back."

The ghost wailed, "How did you get out? Weren't you buried by the mudslide that day?"

"No, when I went to the mountain to pick mushrooms, I met a beggar who said he could cure my illness. He gave me a bitter medicine to drink and also gave me some herbs, telling me to collect more of them and bring them back to my people, saying they could save our lives. After drinking the medicine, I fell asleep in a cave. I was woken up by heavy rain in the middle of the night. Although it was very cold, I felt much better."

The next day, when I returned with the herbs, I found the village gone, replaced by mud and sand! I thought I had gone to the wrong place, and I looked repeatedly at the trees by the village. Those were indeed the trees of our village; there were even patterns carved on them.

"How did your soul end up in the mudslide?" the ghost asked anxiously.

“I knew they were all dead! I cried for a long time, I was cold and hungry. I tried to dig them out, but I was swallowed by the mudslide. I kept struggling and shouting for help, but no one came, and then I sank to the bottom of the mud.”

"Then how did you end up being reincarnated? Weren't you and the others underground?"

"I don't know either. I've been trapped in a dark place for many years and can't move. I can only hear voices talking next to me. It's that woman who lives at the entrance of the village and always likes to curse. I don't like her at all, but I can only chat with her to relieve my boredom."

We stayed in there for who knows how many years, it was so incredibly boring. Then one day, someone dug a hole, and I ran out. After that, I don't remember anything.

"Oh, I remember now, I've turned into a child. Oh no, I'm Jiang Ping? Oh, I'm confused, am I Jiang Ping or Da Xiong?"

"Okay, very good!"

The ghost suddenly burst into maniacal laughter.

"Da Xiong, you really shouldn't have run out alone! You should have waited a little longer!"

"I'm not waiting anymore. It's so dark there, and there's no one to play with. I don't like talking to that woman; she keeps cursing at me, and she cursed at you too! She really wants to come out!"

"Haha, it won't be long! I'll come to save you! You'll be resurrected soon! Goodbye, old monkey!"

The ghost laughed loudly, then suddenly flipped backward and disappeared.

Old man Sun sighed.

Jiang Ping opened his mouth to speak, but this time it was his own voice: "Huh, where are those two ghosts?"

"Don't you remember anything about what just happened?" I asked curiously.

"What just happened? I saw Bian Jizhong's ghost trying to kill Aunt Tian, so I shouted something in a panic, and then I don't remember anything else!"

"Thank goodness you called out just now, thank you for saving my mother!" Tian Juan said, still shaken.

"Oh, really? I don't know anything about it!"

"Think carefully again, what did you dream about when Grandpa Sun was hypnotizing you?"

“I dreamt I was standing next to a huge mud pit, with big trees and a big river beside me. Then I tried to dig something in the mud pit, but I accidentally slipped in. I screamed for help and struggled desperately, but I sank deeper and deeper. Later, I don’t know how long I slept, but I heard an old woman cursing incessantly…” He suddenly stopped here, his eyes wide open. “No way! Could I have been that child saved by the beggar in my past life?”

“Yes, think carefully, how much of your past life can you still remember?” said Mr. Sun.

Jiang Ping bit her lip, frowned, and thought for a long time before saying with difficulty, "I feel like I can sense something, but I can't put my finger on it, I really can't remember! Where are they?"

Old man Sun picked up the earthenware pot and said, "Bian Jizhong's ghost is in here, but the other one ran away—he was your father in his previous life."

"Yes, I just heard about it. But he could see through the two of them, so why couldn't he see through my past life?"

"He wasn't even looking carefully; maybe he never expected you to escape. Do you know why he killed the rest of his tribe?"

"I don't know either, I'm wondering about it too!"

"What did he mean when he said 'I will come to save you! You will soon be resurrected!' as he was leaving?" said Mother Tian.

"Does that mean he buried those people underground so that one day he could save them and bring them back to life?" Tian Juan gasped in shock.

"How is that possible? How can a dead person come back to life?" Although I agreed with her judgment, I found it hard to believe this conclusion.

“He must have been confident in doing that. They are a water-worshipping tribe, and earth is their nemesis. A thick layer of loess can seal their souls and prevent them from dissipating,” Jiang Ping analyzed. “Grandpa Sun, is there really such a thing as a resurrection technique that can bring the dead back to life?”

Mr. Sun shook his head: "I don't know either. We Han people don't have such magic. If we do, it's mostly just a trick to deceive people."

Jiang Ping continued, "There are so many amazing legends about this ethnic group. You are from Hunan, so you must have heard about the corpse-driving tradition in western Hunan."

Legend has it that thousands of years ago, Chi You, the ancestor of the Miao people, also known as the leader of an ancient tribe mentioned in a dream by a ghost, led his soldiers to the Central Plains. On the banks of the Yellow River, they clashed with the allied forces of the Han people's ancestors, Emperor Yan and Emperor Huang. The war was extremely fierce, with corpses strewn across the fields and rivers of blood flowing.

Chi You was at a disadvantage and retreated south. Before retreating, Chi You could not bear to abandon his dead soldiers, so he asked his strategist, who was a sorcerer with magical powers, to find a way to transport the corpses back to his hometown in the south.

So his sorcerers chanted incantations and performed rituals to make the dead soldiers stand up and follow him step by step south.

When the allied forces of Yan and Huang came in pursuit, they used magic to create a thick fog, trapping the pursuers in the fog and buying them time to return south safely.

I believe that ghost wouldn't risk the lives of its own people so easily!

"What do we do now? He's run away, will he ever come back?" Tian Juan said anxiously.

“He’s injured and won’t do anything for a day or two. Also, without Bian Jizhong’s ghost as his accomplice, he can’t kill directly.”

"Well..." Tian Juan wanted to say something, but was interrupted by Mr. Sun: "Alright, I'm very tired today too!"

You should all go back to sleep. Nothing else will happen tonight. We can talk about it tomorrow!

He slowly stood up, burned a few more pieces of yellow paper, and bowed several times.

Suddenly I found I could move. I stood up, checked my phone, and it was already past ten o'clock. I went outside; it was pitch black. People in the countryside go to bed early, and with the rain, everyone was asleep. The sky was dark and the rain continued to pour.

Autumn has arrived, and the nights feel as cool as water. Mr. Bian stepped into the rain to let the rain wash his face. Mrs. Tian chased after him and pulled him back.

We remained silent, each lost in our own thoughts, wondering how long this endless night and the bitter rain would last, and how long the tragedy of 84 years ago would have to repeat itself...

I suddenly felt strange. When I heard this story from Uncle Chen, I had a strong feeling that it might be due to a predestined connection from a past life.

What kind of relationship do I have with my past life and my relatives from that life? Sigh, let's not worry about that for now, let's think about what to do.

I sent my parents a few text messages, otherwise I don't know how worried they would be. My mother, as expected, repeatedly reminded me to take care of myself and not to catch a cold. This deep family love made me feel its warmth flowing through my body, even on this cold night thousands of miles away.

I suddenly thought of that ghost. He had experienced countless nights like this, either tossing and turning in the dark grave, or sitting idly under the bright moon until dawn, or wandering aimlessly in the desolate mountains and wilderness, or lingering alone above his former home...

Relatives, friends, and clansmen are all dead; though they are all ghosts, they cannot meet. The village of yesteryear must be overgrown with weeds and teeming with wild beasts, leaving only endless memories.

There is no one left in the world worth caring about, not even someone to burn paper money for him. All that remains is an unverifiable dream. What a desolate feeling that must be!

Jiang Ping went to her maternal grandmother's house, and the five of us returned to the hotel. That night, due to extreme fatigue, I quickly fell into a deep sleep.

In my dream, I came to that forest. Moonlight shone on the slowly flowing river, creating countless shimmering waves. In the center of the dark forest was an empty hillside. The chieftain sat on an earthen platform in the middle of the hillside, praying to the bright moon. His face was as white as jade, and his eyes were like burning black flames.

One by one, dark figures emerged from the ground, joyfully singing and dancing around the chieftain. Several children rushed onto the earthen platform, tugging at the chieftain's clothes and shouting. The chieftain picked up a child, lifted him high, and then rubbed his beard against the child's face, listening happily to his babbling. A beautiful woman stood beside him, her eyes filled with tears of happiness...

Seeing this scene, tears unknowingly streamed down my face.

When I woke up, my pillow was slightly damp.

If only things were really like in my dream, all grudges and hatred would vanish, and there would be no need to painstakingly investigate who was right and who was wrong. But in this world, does magic truly exist to bring the dead back to life? Deep within me lies an indescribable fear; I don't want to think about the madness that ghost might experience when it has lost even its last hope.

We ate breakfast in silence, even Tian Juan didn't say much. When we arrived yesterday, although everyone was very scared, no one wanted to think about what would happen if the old man refused to perform the exorcism, or if we couldn't defeat the ghost. Now this problem was seriously facing us. That ghost was really too powerful. As long as it didn't provoke us, even with all the magic power in the old man, there was nothing he could do—especially since he said his days were numbered.

When we arrived at Mr. Sun's house again, Jiang Ping had already arrived early. He seemed distracted and ignored our greetings, as if he was concentrating on something.

Mr. Sun's face was a little pale, and he was resting with his eyes closed.

We sat down nervously at Mrs. Sun's invitation.

"My days are numbered. Alas, in the end, human life cannot defy fate." After a moment, Mr. Sun spoke, his tone filled with sorrow.

Mr. Bian said apologetically, "Sir, I'm so sorry. I've disturbed your peaceful life. Now, I only ask that you help me to pray for the soul of my deceased ancestor so that he can be released from suffering as soon as possible. I dare not trouble you with anything else. You have done your best, and I will be grateful for the rest of my life!"

Old Mr. Sun opened his eyes and said kindly, “You don’t need to feel guilty. At seventy-three and eighty-four, the King of Hell will come on his own without being invited. Actually, that friend who can predict the future told me this a long time ago, but I just didn’t want to believe it.”

I was born in 1920, the Year of the Monkey. This year is my eighth zodiac year, which is already quite old. There's no point in living any longer.

I haven't solved any cases for four or five years. There were even more formidable ones than the one from yesterday, but I've encountered them before and never failed. I really feel like I'm getting old; my energy isn't what it used to be.