The two men were still shaken when a shrill, mournful scream echoed from not far away.
Both shuddered and turned their eyes toward the source of the sound.
“Don’t worry, it’s not a ghost. It’s just a night flower bird,” Tian Cunzhang let out a long sigh of relief, patting his chest to calm himself. “Whew, you scared me too! I thought there really was a ghost calling out. It’s just that creature on the tree over there.” He pointed toward a tree in the cemetery.
Liu Dashao followed his finger and also felt relieved. There, perched on a branch, was a large bird with a cat-like face staring at them, its eyes sharp as knives.
In the countryside during the era of liberation, owls were called “night flower birds” or “night cat birds.” There was a saying: “When a night cat visits your home, it never comes without trouble.” They were considered ominous and inauspicious creatures, grouped together with crows and pig-dung birds (a bird that liked to roll in pig excrement) as harbingers of death and misfortune. In the village, whenever people heard one of these three birds calling, they would rush to chase them away, as no one wanted these birds squawking on their rooftops.
Once upon a time, a family in the village had an owl perched on their roof calling out. At first, they didn’t think much of it. After all, it was just a bird calling, right? What kind of trouble could possibly come from that? That night, however, a fire broke out in their house. It raged all night, lighting up the entire sky. Fortunately, the family escaped quickly and avoided being burned alive. The fire left them with nothing. Afterward, the homeowner pounded his chest and stomped his feet in regret, saying, “I knew it! I knew something bad would happen! The bird already told me!”
Since then, whenever villagers in Xiushui heard an owl calling, they would chase it away immediately, as they believed it only brought disaster and misfortune.
The two men had just experienced a false alarm. They looked up at the nearly setting sun and continued walking forward.
“Uncle Tian, do you believe in ghosts?” Liu Dashao suddenly asked as they walked.
It was a taboo to mention the word “ghost” while walking at night. Although there was still some daylight left, it was merely the last flicker of a dying sun. The chilling air from the mountain hollows was rising slowly, unseen by the eye, like a dry, bony hand pulling all living things into the embrace of darkness.
Tian Cunzhang shot Liu Dashao a glare. He was already nervous and now Liu had to bring up the one thing he feared most. “If you don’t speak, no one will call you mute,” he snapped at Liu. “Don’t scare me like that. There’s no such thing as ghosts in this world. It’s probably another night flower bird again!”
Walking through a graveyard at night was indeed a terrifying experience, especially when strange sounds emerged from nowhere, making one’s blood run cold.
Earlier, the two had been badly frightened by the night flower bird, their bodies drenched in cold sweat, their hair and skin standing on end. In this area, night flower birds were considered ill omens, especially when traveling at night. If one heard their call, one should shout “Bang!” to scare them away. This sound resembled the shot of an iron pellet gun, serving both to drive the bird away and to give oneself courage.
“There is!” Liu Dashao raised his voice. “Old Baldy at the village head once told me about a bold butcher who was nicknamed ‘Cold Bold’ and loved to return home very late.”
“One day, he was drinking at someone else’s house and stayed until very late. His host urged him to stay the night, but he refused and insisted on going home. The host could do nothing but let him go. Before leaving, the host warned him, ‘Better safe than sorry. Be careful. When walking at night, never look back or respond if someone calls your name, because if you do, the ghost will come to take your soul.’ The butcher scoffed at the warning, raising his hairy arm and pounding his chest, saying, ‘Don’t worry! Do you know what my nickname is? Cold Bold! I’ve killed countless pigs in my life and never flinched. Even King Yama fears my cleaver and would go around me!’ He patted the shiny cleaver at his waist and left, reeking of alcohol.”
“When he set off, the butcher had so much stuff on his back that he had nowhere to put his scale. He scratched his head and decided to carry the scale beam and weight together on his shoulder. It was already dark outside, with no stars in the sky, only a gray moon. The butcher, emboldened by drink, strode through the graveyard. At first, nothing happened, but as he reached the center, something strange occurred. Suddenly, he felt a blow on his back. At first, he paid no attention, thinking it was just his nerves. But a few steps later, the same strange blow struck again. The butcher sobered up instantly, recalling the host’s warning. Could it be that he had really encountered a ghost tonight?”
“The butcher grew increasingly frightened and quickened his pace, but the blows on his back quickened as well. Desperate, he realized there was no one to call out to in this desolate wilderness. It seemed he had indeed been followed by a ghost. ‘If only I had listened to my friend, I wouldn’t be in this mess!’ he thought. ‘Could it be that I’m going to die here tonight?'”
“Finally, the butcher couldn’t take it anymore. Enraged, he shouted, ‘Don’t think you can scare me and get away with it! I’ll tell you straight, I’m not afraid of you tonight! I’ve got a cleaver in my hand, and I’ll fight you to the death!’ With that, he drew his cleaver and looked behind him.”
At this point, Liu Dashao turned to Tian Cunzhang mysteriously and said, “Uncle Tian, guess what he saw?”
Eagerly, Tian Cunzhang asked, “What did he see?”
Shaking his head, Liu Dashao shrugged and said with a smile, “He saw nothing at all! Isn’t that strange?”
Tian Cunzhang replied in disbelief, “Impossible! If there was no ghost, then what was hitting his back?”
Liu Dashao chuckled and said, “Uncle Tian, don’t be in such a hurry. Let me tell you the rest.”
“After looking behind him, the butcher felt even more frightened. Now he couldn’t even tell if it was a person or a ghost. He dared not look back again, enduring the constant blows, fearing that if he turned around, he might see something monstrous staring at him. He kept being chased by the ghost all the way home. When he finally reached his house, he knocked on his neighbor’s door and told him everything that had happened that night. Then he took off his clothes and showed his neighbor his back, which was bruised from the ghost’s blows.”
“The neighbor burst into laughter, rolling with amusement. The butcher frowned and said, ‘Brother, my back is all bruised, and you’re still laughing?’ The neighbor finally stopped laughing and explained, ‘You’re so silly! You were carrying the scale beam with the weight hanging from it. As you walked, it swung back and forth, naturally hitting your back. When you looked back, of course you saw nothing. Even if you had seen it, it would have just been the scale weight. How could you have guessed it was the scale weight all along?’ The butcher slapped his head, suddenly realizing, ‘I thought it was strange that it kept following me so closely. The faster I walked, the faster it hit me. It was that cursed scale weight all along!’ From that day on, Cold Bold never again boasted about his bravery in front of others or walked alone through graveyards at night. After being bitten by a snake once, he feared even a well rope for ten years.”
Tian Cunzhang was disappointed and said, “I thought there really was a ghost in the world, but it turned out to be just a scale weight.” But then he nodded firmly and said, “Hmm, thinking about it carefully, you told a good story. It hits the nail on the head. As the saying goes, ‘Do not speak of strange, violent, or supernatural things.’ In the face of science, all superstitions, like reactionaries, are paper tigers!”
Liu Dashao, having worked hard to tell the story, was upset that Tian Cunzhang had misunderstood him. He quickly tried to defend himself by quoting what he had learned: “All of this I heard from the old men in the village. They also said that when walking at night, you must never look back. If you do, you might see something unclean. If you don’t look back, even if a ghost follows you, it can’t do anything to you. If someone calls your name while you’re walking at night, never respond, because it might be a ghost sent by King Yama to take your soul. If you respond, the ghost will immediately come to take your soul, and you will either die or become mentally impaired. Also, when walking at night, never pat someone else’s back, because a person has three sacred fires, and a ghost burns three incense sticks. One of the sacred fires in a person’s body is on their back. If a living person’s hand removes it, the ghost will come to harm the person. If you encounter a ghost, place your hand on your head and rub it several times. The ghost will not dare to approach you because it is afraid you will rub out its three incense sticks. Although I have never encountered a ghost many times in my life, these are all things passed down by the older generations. The words of our ancestors are very effective.”
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