Emperatrices transmigradas (hombres y mujeres)

Capítulo 62

Wang Laomo took a deep drag of his cigarette and slowly said, "The people who die violently are different from those who die at home; they have an evil aura." Before he finished speaking, a strange draft swept through the main room, the flame of the oil lamp flickered, casting long shadows of the people in the room. Weng Beibei couldn't help but gasp; she could hear her heart pounding.

"Superstition!" Shen Tian, usually carefree and fearless, blurted out. The young man, his face covered in acne, was visibly angry.

Wang Laomo's expression suddenly changed, turning grim.

Yu Guang glared at Chen Tian, telling him to shut up. Wu Yong patted his head, telling him not to talk nonsense. Compared to Chen Tian, Wu Yong seemed much more experienced. Wang Laomo glanced at Chen Tian and continued, "Don't think I'm being superstitious. I'm a Party member too, otherwise I wouldn't be the village head. However, there are really many things in this world that we can't explain. During the New Year's Eve funeral, there was a young man who ignored everyone's advice and made a sound while traveling. He died in the bamboo forest the next day, without a single wound on his body, just lifeless. How do you explain that? The villagers all say he was possessed by a ghost!"

Yu Guang suddenly perked up: "You just said that someone made a sound during a night burial and died the next day. You mean, you can't make a sound during a night burial?"

“Yes!” Model Worker Wang replied, “You can’t make a sound, not a single word! You can only go quietly to the most remote place in the wilderness. Whoever speaks will attract the evil spirit of the dead. And when the evil spirit returns, it will find a substitute!”

Wang Laomo stubbed out the burnt cigarette on the sole of his shoe, and the room fell into a deathly silence, with only the howling of the draft breaking through the air.

"I'm not going to talk about it anymore. It makes me uneasy to talk about it at night. Let's talk about it tomorrow during the day." With that, Wang Laomo went into the inner room, leaving the four members of the expedition team in the main room, silent and looking at each other.

02

Yu Guang lit a cigarette, the smoke appearing even more hazy under the dim light of the oil lamp.

"Teacher Yu, what do you think of the custom of night burial?" Wu Yongxian asked.

Before he could even reply out of the corner of his eye, Shen Tian interrupted, "What else is there to say? It's superstition, of course! In broad daylight, do you really believe in any evil spirits that come back to take your place? How naive!"

"But...but...but Village Chief Wang just said that a young man didn't follow the custom of night burial and died a violent death the next day. How do you explain that?" Weng Beibei's voice trembled slightly as she spoke. Girls are naturally more timid.

"Hehe." Yu Guang looked at his niece, who was also his prized daughter, and grinned. "The concept of ghosts and spirits has existed since ancient times. Passed down orally from our ancestors, many things can actually be traced back to their origins. Ghosts and spirits were simply ancient people using their own methods to find answers to many things that couldn't be explained at the time, when science was underdeveloped. Night burial can be seen as an ancient cultural phenomenon. In the course of history, some cultural origins can be explored, while others cannot. Our purpose here is to explore the historical origins of night burial, not to examine the truth of any ghost or spirit claims. You are all university students who have studied materialism; you should look at issues with a dialectical perspective. All this talk of ghosts and spirits is just pointless worry. As the saying goes, 'suspicion breeds ghosts,' but in reality, ghosts grow in your own hearts."

Wu Yong coughed, indicating that he had something to say: "Teacher Yu, I have also read some information about night burials, and I have some ideas that are not yet fully formed."

"Oh?" Yu Guang was a little curious. He wanted to hear what different opinions his quick-witted student had.

“I have read the local chronicles. In the early Ming Dynasty, the prefectural government ordered cremation to be implemented in the area and strictly prohibited burial. They also issued extremely severe penalties. If anyone disobeyed, they would be punished by having their hands or feet cut off. In order to preserve their funeral customs, the people had to evade the government’s investigation and changed the time of burial to late at night, which became a custom.”

"Hmm..." Yu Guang nodded slightly, looking at his student with satisfaction.

"But why is it that only those who die violently are buried at night? Villagers who die of old age are still buried during the day, and only those who die unnatural deaths are buried in the wilderness and not moved to the ancestral graveyard. Why is that?" Weng Beibei pressed on.

“This…this…” Wu Yong’s voice trailed off: “I haven’t thought about it yet. As I said before, my ideas are still very immature.”

"Hehe." Yu Guang smoothed things over, "It's a good thing for young people to have their own ideas. Beibei, you should learn more from your two senior brothers!"

Weng Beibei playfully stuck out her tongue.

"Let's go to sleep. Everyone's been traveling all day and is tired. We still have to stay up all night tomorrow to investigate night burials. Let's just make do in this main room tonight. Hehe, there seem to be quite a few mosquitoes," Yu Guang laughed, then blew out the oil lamp. The main room fell into darkness, with only a faint light coming from the inner room. Wang Laomo was still awake. The wind picked up outside, and the leaves rustled. It was probably going to rain. Sure enough, a loud clap of thunder followed, and raindrops began to fall in a pattering sound. The thatched roof swayed in the wind and rain, and rainwater stubbornly seeped through the gaps in the thatch, dripping into the main room. The night was deep.

03

When Yu Guang opened his eyes, it was already daylight, the rain had stopped, and the air was damp, with a distinctly rural feel. Wang Laomo had already gotten up and was squatting on the doorstep, listlessly smoking his pipe, filling the room with a pungent smell. Outside, the washed earth looked quite pristine.

Yu Guang handed a cigarette to the village chief and noticed that Wang Laomo's eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn't slept all night. Wang Laomo was a man around forty years old, emaciated, his cheeks as if carved by a knife, his two cloudy eyes sunken deep in their sockets. There was still a trace of sticky liquid around his eyes, giving him an inexplicable appearance of filth.

Yu Guang, trying to make conversation, asked, "Village Chief Wang, why is your village called Cursed Village? It's such a strange name."

Wang Laomo sniffed hard, glanced helplessly at Yu Guang, and replied, "This name has been around for a long time. I don't know the specific reason, but it's been called this place since I was born. It is said that a passing evil spirit once placed a most terrifying curse on this place, forbidding the villagers from uttering a single word during night burials. If they do, they will die a violent death the next day."

"Oh?" Yu Guang continued with interest, "Why is that?"

“That’s what the older generation says: at the crossroads of the Yin and Yang realms in this Cursed Village, many wandering ghosts who can’t enter the Ghost Gate roam the woods outside the village. These ghosts are blind, but not deaf. They can’t see people, but they can hear them. Once they hear someone speak, they suck up their soul and kidnap their body as a basis for possession. Of course, this is superstition, but everyone here believes it. Especially after that young man who recklessly said those words and died mysteriously the next day, the people here believe it even more. Some things are better believed than not.” Wang Laomo rambled on. For some reason, Yu Guang felt a strange, icy chill run through his body, as if he had fallen into a freezing cellar. “What nonsense are you talking about? What kind of ghost stories are these? It’s ridiculous! What era are we living in? Still believing in this stuff!” Shen Tian stood behind Yu Guang, holding a toothbrush holder, his face full of disdain.

Wang Laomo's expression suddenly changed, and he looked displeased. He stood up and said to Yu Guang, "Professor Yu, I'll go prepare breakfast for you." After saying that, he went into the low and dark kitchen.

Yu Guang glared at Chen Tian and scolded, "I really shouldn't have brought you here. Didn't you see I was trying to understand the situation? Don't forget we're here to investigate night burials, not to dispel superstitions. When talking to people in the mountains, you have to learn to cater to their interests. You can only agree with what they say to understand more. You ruined the conversation with just one sentence and made them unhappy. You're such a blockhead."

Weng Beibei and Wu Yong were both up. Yu Guang said to the students in a somewhat impatient tone, "Go eat breakfast now. After breakfast, Beibei and I will go talk to Village Chief Wang. You two can wander around the village and don't get in our way." Breakfast habits in the mountain village are very different from those in the city. In the city, we often eat porridge, steamed buns, soy milk, and fried dough sticks in the morning. But in this remote and wretched village, perhaps because of the farm work during the day, even breakfast is prepared like a proper meal: four dishes and a soup, with steamed hazelnut rice. Although the dishes aren't particularly refined, the farm-cured pork, scrambled eggs with tomatoes, stir-fried pork head with chili peppers, stir-fried cabbage, and pickled cabbage and mushroom soup represent the highest level of hospitality this mountain village can offer to guests. However, the four members of the research team weren't really used to eating so much for breakfast. Looking at the table full of leftovers, Wang Laomo's face was clearly grim, and Yu Guang quickly offered him a Longfeng cigarette.

After Wang Laomo's expression softened a bit, Yu Guang told Shen Tian and Wu Yong to leave and explore the village on their own, leaving only himself and Weng Beibei inside to keep Wang Laomo company. "Tell us about the customs of night burial, what are the details?" Yu Guang asked.

Model worker Wang sprinkled a handful of bitter tea into the enamel mug, then poured in boiling water, and said, "Actually, there aren't many details, and I can't really talk about the specifics. The main thing is to follow the rules passed down from our elders, do what needs to be done, and the most important thing is not to make a sound during the funeral procession. If you attract wandering ghosts, no one can save you."

Yu Guang pressed further, "What kind of rules did the older generation have?"

"There aren't many rules. The main rule is that no one can speak, not even the deceased's family members. They can't cry either. Night burial is similar to a regular funeral process, consisting of three parts: laying the body, the funeral procession, and the burial. The difference is that night burial is for people who died violently, the time is changed to night, no sound is allowed, and the burial place is changed to the wilderness."

Yu Guang gestured for Weng Beibei to write down what Village Chief Wang had said. He then asked, "Are these the only differences? Could you describe the process of night burial in more detail? We researchers are particularly interested in the details."

Wang Laomo took a sip of hot tea and said, "The night burial is between 7 p.m. and midnight. The time must not be delayed. According to the old saying, after this time, the gates of hell open, and wandering ghosts will run around. Even if you don't make a sound, you will be taken away by ghosts. Of course, there are no ghosts in this world. This is just a custom."

Yu Guang appreciated the village chief's knowledge and offered him a cigarette.

“Those attending the night burial mainly consist of three groups,” Wang Laomo said slowly, lighting a cigarette and squinting his eyes. “First, there are the villagers; eight strong men will carry the coffin to the desolate cemetery. Then come the deceased’s relatives, who walk behind, carrying the deceased’s black-and-white portrait. But they can’t cry along the way; if they can’t hold back, they can’t follow. Finally, there’s the guide…”

"The gentleman who will guide you?" Yu Guang asked, somewhat puzzled.

“They’re the geomancers who choose burial sites. In your city, they might be called Yin-Yang masters. People who make a living this way are said to have the ability to see spirits; the most suitable burial place for the deceased is up to them. People who die violently have fierce ghosts. If they’re buried haphazardly, the living are fine, but the other corpses buried nearby will suffer, perhaps never to be reincarnated.” Wang Laomo explained slowly. At this moment, the cigarette had burned down to its end. He threw the end on the ground and stomped it out. Yu Guang seemed to remember something and asked, “By the way, village chief, you’ve already implemented cremation here, haven’t you?”

The village chief glanced warily at Yu Guang and replied, "Yes, cremation is being practiced. Lü Guihua, who died, was also cremated. Tonight, her brother will retrieve her ashes from the city. What we're burying underground are her ashes, not her corpse. We don't practice burial here; we won't do anything that violates the law."

Yu Guang chuckled. Burying the ashes underground, while not a true burial, was practically the same. However, their purpose in coming was merely to investigate funeral customs; he would turn a blind eye to any policy violations.

Yu Guang then asked, "And who is the geography teacher?"

Village Chief Wang stared into Yu Guang's eyes and said, word by word, "It's me! I'm the geography teacher!" With a "snap," the pen in Weng Beibei's hand inexplicably broke, and half of the pen fell to the ground, spilling ink onto the soil, turning it into a filthy mess.

Yu Guang and Weng Beibei both gasped in shock.

Section 2

04

Shen Tian and Wu Yong emerged from Village Chief Wang's earthen house, undoubtedly feeling somewhat down, especially since they hadn't heard the village chief's explanation of the night burial custom right away. However, the damp, fresh scent of the air, carried by a night rain, somewhat lifted their spirits.

The Cursed Village is somewhat different from ordinary mountain villages. The houses are not built randomly according to the terrain, but are concentrated on a flat area and arranged in a row along a long bluestone street about 200 meters long.

It was still morning, and the streets were deserted; the villagers were probably all busy in the fields. Only a few stray dogs were scavenging for food in the garbage heaps, and occasionally the cries of babies could be heard from the houses on either side.

The sun was already high in the sky, and the heat gradually rose from the long street paved with bluestone slabs, while the puddles on the ground slowly disappeared.

Wu Yong offered Shen Tian a cigarette, but Shen Tian refused.

As Shen Tian walked down the long street, he felt very uncomfortable. He felt a shiver down his spine, as if someone was secretly watching him from the shadows. But when he turned around, there was only an empty street, not a soul in sight.

"Isn't that a bit weird?" Wu Yong said to Shen Tian, clicking his tongue.

"What's with all this talk of evil? It's all in broad daylight..." Shen Tian remained defiant.

Wu Yong lit a cigarette and said, "I really don't know what Professor Yu was thinking. Of all the things to research, why did he have to come up with this research on night burial? He's in for a tough night, having to stay up all night to watch people bury corpses. Do you even know what day it is today?"

What day is it?

"The 15th of the seventh lunar month!" Wu Yong took a deep drag of his filter. "Legend has it that it's the most evil day, the time when the gates of hell open wide. Today, as soon as the sun sets, all the wandering ghosts and spirits in the gates of hell will come out in full force, dancing wildly, searching for substitutes. You'd better be careful, haven't you read Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio? A healthy and handsome young man like you is exactly what they prey on..."

"Tch... Trying to scare me? Don't forget I'm a pure yang virgin, which is a major taboo for evil spirits." Shen Tian grinned. He knew his senior brother loved to joke. "Hehe, if a ghost comes to bother me, if it's a male ghost, I'll kick it so badly it'll be unable to take care of itself for the rest of its life. If it's a female ghost, we'll catch it and have some fun."

Wu Yong frowned and said in a serious tone, "Junior brother, some things are better believed than not. You should be careful..." Before Wu Yong could finish speaking, hurried and noisy footsteps suddenly came from behind them.

Turning around, they saw a young man and a little boy walking in from the village entrance, heading towards them along the long street. Shen Tian and Wu Yong quickly stepped aside to make way for them.

Both the man and the child were dressed in white, with plain headscarves wrapped around their heads. The young man held a small earthenware jar, while the child held a framed picture containing a black-and-white photograph. The photograph showed a gaunt woman with vacant, lifeless eyes.

The two men kept their eyes down, focused only on the bluestone slabs on the ground, completely unaware of the two strangers standing on the street. "Who are these people?" Shen Tian asked in confusion.

Wu Yong replied, "It must be an urn. I've checked the records. Although the night burials here are nominally traditional burials, in reality, due to the national funeral policy, the bodies are cremated before being buried. Those two people just now must have retrieved the ashes from the city. That child must be the deceased's son. I heard the deceased's husband was having an affair, so that young man is definitely not the deceased's husband. If I'm not mistaken, he must be the deceased Lü Guihua's younger brother."

Shen Tian praised, "Senior brother, you are really amazing. How could you deduce this?"

"Hehe." Wu Yong chuckled, "Don't forget, I'm a director of the school's detective novel club. Think things through first when you encounter problems, and you'll definitely gain more insights." "You're right! That's Sister-in-law Lü's younger brother, his name is Lü Tugeng." A deep voice suddenly came from behind the two of them. The voice came so suddenly, and it was so deep, as if it came from underground. Shen Tian and Wu Yong inexplicably shivered at the same time, feeling a chill run through their bodies. The hairs on their backs stood up, and cold sweat soaked through their thin shirts.

Turning around, a small door on the street opened, and a young man in his twenties stood behind it, looking at them with a half-smile, his eyes filled with malice. "Who are you?" Shen Tian asked loudly, his voice trembling slightly without him realizing it.

“I am a villager here, my name is Wang Minsheng. I am one of the eight pallbearers for tonight’s burial,” the young man said slowly.

05

"Come in and have some water. The sun's out now, and it'll get hot soon," Wang Mingsheng said, stepping aside to make way for the door. The mud-walled house was dark inside, like a gaping mouth.

Shen Tian wiped the sweat from his forehead and said, "Let's go in, do you think I'm afraid?"

Wang Mingsheng chuckled: "I knew it. Senior Shen and Senior Wu are both incredibly brave. What could you possibly be afraid of in my little house?"

Wu Yong was taken aback: "What? You know our names? And you still call us seniors?"

"Yes! Of course I know you. I'm also a student at a university in this city, and I just entered the school this year. Anyone from a university in this city knows that Senior Shen is the main center-back of the school's football team, and who doesn't know that Senior Wu is a famous talent on campus, and he writes excellent articles?"

A few words of flattery made Shen Tian and Wu Yong feel quite pleased; they hadn't expected to encounter a junior from the same school in this remote mountain village. The mud-walled houses in the village had no windows, so the interiors were dark, with only a single oil lamp casting a faint, yellowish light. In the lamplight, they could see certificates of merit and a few black-and-white photographs pasted on the mottled mud walls. Due to the passage of time, the photos had a yellowish tinge, a symbol of age.

"I'm the first college student in the history of Cursed Village. Hehe, these are all certificates I received in elementary and middle school, nothing special. The photo is of me and my brother. Look, isn't he handsome?" Wang Mingsheng explained from the side.

Sure enough, the photo showed two boys posing together by a large banyan tree at the village entrance. It must have been taken during the hottest time of the year. Bright sunlight stubbornly pierced through the dense leaves, shining perfectly on the children's faces. Their faces beamed with happy smiles, and although their clothes were tattered, they couldn't hide their radiant innocence and optimism. "Hehe, quite handsome, two little heartthrobs," Chen Tian chuckled.

"Huh?! Wang Mingsheng, you're a highly educated person, why would you come back here to be a coffin bearer?" Wu Yong asked, puzzled.

“Ahem…” Wang Mingsheng was a little embarrassed. “Every place has its own customs. In Evil Curse Village, this is a custom passed down from the older generation, in order to put the living at ease. The eight coffin bearers come from eight wealthy families. Although my family is no longer considered wealthy, based on tradition, one person from my family must be chosen. Now I am the only one left in my family, so I have to come back to do this.”

"Are you all alone in your family?" Wu Yong asked in surprise. "Where's your brother?"

“Sigh…” Wang Mingsheng sighed: “My brother used to be a pallbearer, but something happened last year. During the funeral procession, he suddenly said something that the older generation said offended the gods. Sure enough, the next day he died mysteriously in the cornfield without a single wound on his body.”

Wu Yong gasped, "Is this true?"

Wang Mingsheng nodded.

"Do you also believe in supernatural phenomena and supernatural beings?" Wu Yong asked again.

Wang Mingsheng shook his head and said, "I don't believe it either. I always felt that there was something strange about my brother's death."

"Strange?" Wu Yong perked up. He loved reading detective novels and even organized a detective novel club on campus. Now, hearing Wang Mingsheng mention the strangeness behind his brother's death, and sensing a possible criminal element, he became intrigued. "The day my brother died, I was in town taking a three-day exam, not in the village. By the time I returned, his burial had already taken place. I didn't even see him one last time; I only saw a grave in the wilderness." Wang Mingsheng's tone turned somber. "My brother was usually strong and healthy, the best laborer in the village, and an excellent farmer. But one night, he suddenly died in the cornfield. The village chief was afraid it would affect my exams, so he didn't inform me. It was the hottest time of the year, and if he wasn't buried immediately, his body would decompose. The next day, the village chief organized people to bury my brother in a ditch in the wilderness, so I didn't even see him one last time."

Although Wu Yong found Wang Mingsheng's story somewhat strange, he couldn't see any criminal element in it. So he said, "Your brother's death is indeed very strange, but from a scientific perspective, we can't rule out the possibility that he suffered a sudden illness. For example, a myocardial infarction can have a sudden onset, and without an autopsy, it's difficult to find the true cause..."

"I've thought about that too, but my brother is so healthy, there's no way he could have heart disease!"

“Myocardial infarction has no warning signs and is not related to one’s usual health. It is very likely to be hereditary. Have your parents ever had this disease?” Wu Yong explained.

“My parents? When my brother and I were only five years old, they were swept to the bottom of a valley in a flash flood. By the time they were found, they were unrecognizable. Because they died violently, they were not buried in the ancestral grave, but were buried in that Dead Man's Gully in the wilderness,” Wang Mingsheng replied.

“Oh…” Wu Yong and Shen Tian fell silent. “By the way, did you come to the Cursed Village to learn about the custom of night burial?” Wang Mingsheng broke the silence and changed the subject.

“Yes!” Shen Tian replied.

"Actually, you don't necessarily have to go to Village Chief Wang Laomo to find out more. You can also ask the clan chief and Mr. Zhao from the Zhao family mansion."

"The clan chief and Mr. Zhao?" Wu Yong was taken aback.

“Yes, the clan chief is the oldest person in the Cursed Village, almost ninety years old this year. He has the most authority on funeral rites and customs. He is also surnamed Wang, and most of the people in this village are surnamed Wang. He lives alone in a thatched house at the very end of the village. Mr. Zhao moved here from the city. He is a very learned man, and I heard he is a writer. He came to our village to find a quiet place to write, bought a piece of land and built a villa. We all call it the Zhao Family Mansion. He is a good man. He often shares his medicine with the villagers, and he will do his best to help anyone who suffers from disaster. He even sponsored my university tuition. In the village, Mr. Zhao is the most respected person!” “There are such wise and learned people. I have to contact Professor Yu right away. We’ll go find the clan chief and talk to Mr. Zhao.” Wu Yong took out his mobile phone from his pocket.

“There’s no cell phone signal here,” Wang Mingsheng said. “This place is too remote, and not many people can afford a cell phone, so the telephone company hasn’t set up a signal relay station. Only the village chief’s house and Mr. Zhao’s house have telephones here.” “Oh, I see?” Wu Yong reluctantly put his phone back in his pocket. “Then let’s go back to the village chief’s house first, see you tonight.”

"Okay, see you tonight." Wang Mingsheng saw the two of them to the door.