Li Yang had always been narrow-minded and vengeful, never hesitating to retaliate over even the smallest slight. He had always smugly believed that A Lan should belong to him alone, convinced that as the respected village Party secretary, he was far superior to a mere construction worker working on the dam. Yet now, he had to hide from that young man whenever he was intimate with A Lan, and to top it off, he had even been beaten up badly—nearly skinned alive! Why should it be this way? Damn it! If he didn’t teach that guy a lesson, he’d never know that even the god of horses has three eyes!
So Li Yang began using his authority as village Party secretary to make life difficult for the construction team living in the village, especially for Zhang Deli. He assigned Zhang extra heavy labor, accused him of violating organizational discipline, and so on. But Zhang Deli was unusually calm and patient. Sometimes he suspected that the Party secretary was deliberately targeting him, yet he never lost his temper.
The river across from the village was a lifeline for both Xiushan Village and Xiushui Village, essential for daily life—cooking, washing, drinking, and everything else. A few years ago, a dam had been built, but it collapsed during a flood. After countless requests from Village Chief Tian, the authorities had finally approved a new construction project. At that time, there were no mechanical vehicles like excavators or bulldozers; everything was done manually, shovel by shovel. It was grueling physical labor. The ten or so young men sent here were all skilled workers, none of whom wanted to do such hard work, so they decided by drawing lots. Naturally, Li Yang wrote the slips himself—some marked “go,” others “not go.” Those who drew “go” had to go.
When it came Zhang Deli’s turn to draw, Li Yang offered to check the slip for him. He took the paper without even looking at it, quickly swapping it with a pre-prepared “go” slip hidden in his hand. Thus, Zhang Deli joined the dam construction team.
After just a few days, the young man was exhausted, worn out and sunburnt. Frustrated, he stopped visiting A Lan altogether. Li Yang finally had the chance to hold A Lan, who cried bitterly, and sleep soundly with her until morning, secretly proud of his clever scheme.
Although building the dam was tough, most people could endure it. The real fear was staying overnight to guard the embankment. Since heavy equipment like pumps and various tools were inconvenient to move back and forth every day, someone had to stay behind to watch them at night.
Near the dam was a field of scattered graves, and rumors said fox spirits haunted the area. Everyone feared being left behind, but someone had to take turns—today one person, tomorrow another.
On this particular night, it was Zhang Deli’s turn to guard the dam. Naturally timid, he dared not sleep elsewhere because if the equipment were stolen on his watch, he would be held responsible—his entire family’s assets wouldn’t be enough to compensate.
As soon as it got dark, Zhang Deli urinated by the dam, hurriedly zipped up, and rushed into the small tent. He sealed every gap in the tent, lit an oil lamp, and wrapped himself tightly in his blanket. The dim light from the oil lamp illuminated the cramped space inside the tent, making it feel like a world cut off from everything.
As night deepened, Zhang Deli tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. He recalled the days he had spent sleeping beside A Lan on the warm kang bed, which now felt like paradise. Now he was alone in this small tent, near graveyards not far away—this was pure hell.
While lost in these thoughts, he dozed off. He didn’t know how long he had slept when a strange sound woke him up. The oil lamp had gone out, and outside, the wind howled, making the tent flap loudly. But that sound was definitely not the wind. Zhang Deli clearly heard it come from the top of the tent, like something crawling over it. Terrified, he pulled the blanket tighter around himself, trembling like a leaf.
Suddenly, the tent flap was blown open by a gust of wind, letting in a rush of cold air. Zhang Deli had to crawl out of his blanket to close the flap. As he shivered toward the entrance, he looked up and saw someone hanging upside down right above him.
Zhang Deli trembled as he reached for the tent flap, unsure whether from cold or fear. As he approached the entrance, he felt something above him and looked up—Oh my God! Right above his head, not far away, was someone hanging upside down. But this was no human being—it was a malevolent ghost risen from the underworld! Wearing a judge’s hat, with a green face, sharp teeth, and wide, bulging fish eyes staring at him. Zhang Deli screamed, soiled his pants, and then collapsed with a thud.
Zhang Deli twitched on the ground for a while before lying still. Then a dark figure quietly entered the tent, turned on a flashlight, and shone it from head to toe over Zhang Deli’s body. The man was lying there, his face pale, his mouth wide open, his eyes bulging. The figure reached out to feel Zhang Deli’s nose, shivered violently, and dropped the flashlight. Zhang Deli was already dead—scared to death.
The dark figure was none other than Li Yang. He had a drinking buddy in town who made paper figures, and the man was extremely skilled, creating lifelike works. His nickname was “Ghost Buddha.” Li Yang had treated Ghost Buddha to a drink and asked him to make a judge figure, telling him to make it as scary as possible. Ghost Buddha, caught up in the drinking mood, didn’t ask what it was for and readily agreed.
That night, Li Yang knew it was Zhang Deli’s turn to guard the dam. Several days had already passed, and Ghost Buddha should have completed the paper figure. As soon as it got dark, Li Yang took a donkey cart to town. Ghost Buddha showed him the finished paper figure—it was indeed terrifying, with a green face and sharp teeth drawn in colored pencils. Li Yang was so pleased that he took Ghost Buddha to a tavern, where they drank and feasted heartily. After their fill of food and drink, Li Yang took the paper figure on his donkey cart back to Xiushui Village. He didn’t go home but went straight to the dam. It was already midnight, and the wind howled across the open embankment. From a distance, he saw the small tent used for guarding the dam, knowing Zhang Deli was sleeping inside.
Li Yang first ran to a nearby forest and cut down a sapling about a meter long. Then he took a rope used for tying hay from the donkey cart. He tied the rope to the feet of the paper figure, bound the flashlight under its chin, and hung it upside down from the top of the sapling. He turned on the flashlight, leaned the sapling diagonally against the tent, so that the paper figure dangled upside down right above the tent entrance. Li Yang braced the base of the sapling and, after everything was ready, used a stick to tap on the top of the tent.
Soon enough, Zhang Deli was awakened by the sound. Li Yang wanted to tap the tent flap to lure him out, but just then a gust of wind blew the flap open. Li Yang quickly hid in the shadows nearby. Not long after, he heard Zhang Deli scream, followed by a thud from inside the tent, and then silence. After waiting a while, Li Yang took down the paper figure and flashlight, gathered up all the items, and sneaked away to a distant ditch to burn them. Then he jumped onto his donkey cart and fled home as fast as he could.
The next day, the other workers who came to continue building the dam discovered Zhang Deli dead inside the tent. His face was pale, his eyes wide open in terror, and he had soiled his pants. It seemed he had been scared to death by something terrifying. Everyone was deeply uneasy, unable to understand what could have frightened someone to death. They immediately reported the incident to the highest authority there—the Party secretary, Li Yang. Li Yang pretended to be calm as he arrived at the dam. When he saw Zhang Deli’s face, he nearly soiled his pants too. The expression on Zhang Deli’s face was enough to make anyone’s scalp tingle. Li Yang appeared more frightened than anyone else, but no one thought much of it, just muttering that he was a coward.
That same night after Zhang Deli’s death, Li Yang didn’t visit A Lan. He lay in his own bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. As soon as he closed his eyes, he saw Zhang Deli’s twisted face. He finally dozed off around midnight.
A Lan was deeply heartbroken over Zhang Deli’s death. After all, he was the only man she had ever truly loved. Lying in bed, she recalled the unforgettable nights they had shared, filled with longing. Compared to Zhang Deli, Li Yang was so rough and vulgar, only interested in satisfying his desires on her, never caring about her feelings. Lost in these thoughts, silently calling Zhang Deli’s name, she fell into a deep sleep.
In the middle of the night, A Lan was awakened by the cold. She didn’t know when, but a strong wind had started blowing outside. Drowsily opening her eyes, she saw a figure standing beside her bed.
“Who is it?!” A Lan felt frightened. The figure didn’t speak, standing motionless.
“Is it you, Secretary?”
Still no response. A Lan glanced toward the door and saw that it was tightly shut. How had this person gotten in?
As she puzzled over this, the previously motionless figure suddenly lunged forward, throwing her onto the bed.
The figure tore at A Lan’s clothes. In the darkness, she couldn’t see his face or hear his breathing. Soon, she felt a cold body lying on top of her, smelling the scent of earth.
Li Yang was half-asleep when he seemed to hear someone calling his name. He jumped out of bed, hearing what seemed like A Lan calling him. Dazedly, he walked out of his house toward A Lan’s residence. The path was pitch-black, and the wind was blowing fiercely, stinging his eyes and creeping into his neck. Li Yang tightened his coat, feeling groggy, as if he hadn’t fully woken up. He didn’t even question how he could hear A Lan’s voice from so far away, just kept walking forward.
Soon, he reached A Lan’s house at the eastern edge of the village. As he approached, he heard heavy breathing from inside—so familiar. He immediately recognized it as A Lan’s. Li Yang felt furious. He had finally gotten rid of Zhang Deli, and now another man had appeared? What the hell—was she sleeping around with multiple men?
Li Yang managed to keep his composure. Quietly, he approached the window, pushed it gently, and found it unlatched. It opened slightly. He pressed his face against the crack, peering inside. The room was dark, so he shouldn’t have been able to see anything, yet somehow, he could clearly see everything inside. Before he could even wonder why he could see in the dark, he was frozen in shock by the scene before him.
A Lan was lying on the bed, breathing heavily. But there was no one else on the bed with her. Yet it looked as if someone invisible was lying on top of her, moving vigorously. A Lan’s hands were in the air, as if tightly embracing someone. She started lying down, then turned over onto her stomach, then half-squatted on the bed, moving up and down faster and faster. With a series of passionate cries, her body trembled violently for a moment before slowly collapsing and lying still.
Suddenly, she sat up, got out of bed, rummaged through a chest, and pulled out a set of red clothes. Facing away from Li Yang, she put them on. From a distance, the red looked like a wedding dress worn at rural weddings. As soon as A Lan finished dressing, there was a sudden “thud,” and a rope flew out of nowhere, looping around her neck. The rope coiled around the beam above. A Lan struggled desperately, kicking her feet, but there was no foothold. Soon her tongue stuck out, and after a while, she hung still, completely motionless.
It was all so sudden, so unbelievable. Li Yang was completely stunned, unable to think of rescuing her. His legs felt like they no longer belonged to him, frozen in place, his mind blank.
Just as Li Yang finally regained his senses and was about to rush in to help, the door suddenly burst open with a loud crash, and a strange gust of wind rushed out, heading straight for him.
As the wind was about to hit Li Yang, he screamed and woke up. Looking around, he realized he was lying in his own bed. A real gust of wind blew in at that moment, making his teeth chatter from the cold. He looked up and saw that the door had somehow opened—he was sure he had locked it before going to sleep. How could it be open now?
Shivering, Li Yang crawled out of bed, went downstairs to close the door, and reluctantly climbed back under the covers. Reflecting on the dream he had just experienced, it felt so real, as if it had actually happened. His heart raced with unease. He wanted to go to A Lan’s house in the eastern part of the village to check things out, but it was pitch-black outside, and he didn’t have the courage. Lying in bed, unable to sleep, a vague sense of dread gnawed at him. Finally, when the rooster crowed and the sky began to lighten, Li Yang threw on a coat and rushed toward the village edge.
He soon arrived at A Lan’s house. As he approached, Li Yang noticed the door was wide open, the wind howling inside. Puzzled, he hesitated for a moment before stepping in. No sooner had he entered than he let out a scream like a slaughtered pig, clutching his head and running out. What he saw was exactly as he had dreamed—A Lan’s body hanging stiffly from the beam above the bed, clearly dead for some time.
In the morning, a crowd of villagers gathered at A Lan’s house, murmuring and discussing. A few brave men entered, cut the rope, and lowered A Lan’s body. No one could understand why a young woman would suddenly hang herself, nor why she had worn the red wedding dress before her death. Naturally, no one knew about her relationship with Zhang Deli and Li Yang.
Li Yang still had a little conscience left. He used some money from the village committee and added some of his own to buy A Lan a sturdy coffin. He buried her on the western embankment of the village, just like Zhang Deli. He couldn’t understand why he had such a vivid dream, or whether he had actually gone to A Lan’s house instead of dreaming. Thinking about it frightened him. Remembering that he had scared Zhang Deli to death scared him even more. Besides fear, he also felt deep regret over A Lan’s death. Her pale, soft body had brought him countless nights of ecstasy. Now that she was gone, he would have to return to the lonely, dry life of a bachelor once again.
Xiushui Village was remote and poor, and in those days, there were far more men than women, so there were many bachelors. Li Yang wasn’t the most famous among them. The most notorious was a man named Chen Quezi—the Lame Chen.
You probably already know what kind of person Chen Quezi is just by his name. Indeed, Chen Quezi had a serious limp, walking unevenly, and his face was famous far and wide for being covered in bizarre pimples—some as big as mung beans, others as small as sesame seeds. His appearance was so repulsive that even elders frowned when they saw him, and children were too scared to sleep near him. Truly, he was universally disliked.
Chen Quezi lost his father at a young age. After his father’s early death, his mother remarried. Even she didn’t like him. Before she remarried, she often looked in the mirror, sighing at her own bulky figure, lamenting why she, so beautiful, had given birth to such a monster as Chen Quezi. So after his father’s death, she abandoned him and moved far away.
Chen Quezi was short and had lived by scavenging since childhood, doing odd jobs at the production commune to scrape together leftover food. He lived in a dilapidated thatched hut passed down from his grandfather to his father, and then to him. With his condition and his naturally hideous appearance, if even he could find a wife, all the other bachelors would hang themselves in shame.
Approaching forty, Chen Quezi had never even touched a woman’s hand. He was filled with longing and would do anything indecent—often sneaking peeks at women breastfeeding their babies, drooling and losing his appetite when he saw two dogs mating. It was even rumored that he had once had relations with a female donkey, though whether it was true or not was unknown.
On the day A Lan died, villagers gathered to see the spectacle, and Chen Quezi was among them. Although people generally disliked him, when they saw A Lan hanging from the beam and no one dared to cut her down at first, someone suggested calling Chen Quezi, saying that even ghosts feared ugly people. Only after calling him did anyone dare to approach and lower A Lan’s body.
Chen Quezi had a sick fascination. The moment he saw A Lan’s corpse, his eyes went wide. Although her tongue was sticking out, making her look terrifying, her body remained unchanged. Chen Quezi stared at A Lan’s pale, soft body, not blinking, swallowing hard, his soul seemingly leaving his body. He didn’t even notice how A Lan was dressed, placed in the coffin, or carried to the embankment. He simply followed dumbly behind until the moment A Lan was buried, when he finally snapped out of his trance.
At that moment, a horrifying, unthinkable idea suddenly surged into his mind, spreading like wildfire through his entire body, even turning his eyes red—grave robbing under the cover of a dark, windy night.
At night, after dinner, most of the villagers in Xiushui Village had gone to sleep. In a dilapidated thatched hut on the western edge of the village, Chen Quezi sat on his broken bed, picking his feet while thinking about A Lan’s pale, soft body, drooling and unable to sit still. But he was patient. He waited until around midnight before getting up, putting on a filthy, patched-up coat, tucking a half-bottle of cheap liquor he had saved from two weeks of scavenging into his pocket, and grabbing a shovel. He then headed straight for the embankment.
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