Chapter Two: The Charity Mortuary

Left with no choice, I set down my bowl and hurried to the television, watching for a while. In the countryside, people tend to rest earlier—by around eight o’clock every house is shut tight, unlike in the city, where the noise and bustle persist into the early hours.

It was time for bed, but I was wide awake. After all, I’d made plans that afternoon with Pudgy and the others to go exploring that night in the house behind our village.

I lay in bed, waiting. When I heard my grandparents settle in for the night, I glanced at the clock on the wall—it was just after nine. Soon, I caught the sound of footsteps outside the courtyard gate, along with a barely audible call: “Lin Xuan, come on out! We’re all waiting for you!”

My hearing has always been sharp, and I recognized Tie Zhu’s voice at once. I crept to the door, carefully opened it, and tiptoed out into the courtyard. There, I found Tie Zhu, Pudgy, San Bao, Gou Wa, and a few other kids I didn’t know, all about my age.

After quietly closing the gate behind me, I joined the group as we made our way toward the back of the village. It was a fair distance from my house. Somehow, everyone had managed to get hold of a flashlight, probably borrowed—or stolen—from home.

I looked at my empty hands, lacking any source of light, and could only sidle up to Tie Zhu, relying on the beam from his flashlight to lead the way. Along our path, we had to pass through an old, overgrown graveyard. My grandfather had always warned me never to go there, not even during the day.

I’d once thought he was just trying to scare me. But ever since I gained the ability to see spirits, I’ve taken his words to heart. Still, here I was, in the dead of night. Pride is a strange thing—I couldn’t back out now, not in front of everyone. I’d never live it down.

There were seven or eight of us, sticking close as we walked. Nearing the graveyard, I clearly heard faint sobbing and whispers swirling around me. My skin prickled with goosebumps. I stopped and nudged Tie Zhu’s arm, whispering, “Tie Zhu, do you hear something?”

He looked bewildered and shook his head. The others, hearing my question, stared at me blankly. Pudgy was the first to speak, snorting, “Stop trying to scare us with ghost stories. I’m not afraid of that stuff.”

Seeing their disbelief, I tried to convince myself it was just nerves, maybe my imagination. We pressed on, but as we passed the graveyard, the voices I’d heard grew all the more real.

I scanned my surroundings anxiously but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Noticing my unease, Tie Zhu patted me on the shoulder. “Are you okay, Lin Xuan?” he asked.

I shook my head, though sweat had already soaked my back. We pushed forward. The graveyard wasn’t large—a narrow path wound through it, bordered by wild, waist-high weeds and a few clay jars scattered along the way. For some reason, Pudgy swung his flashlight into the graveyard, illuminating a jumble of broken coffins and gaping holes in the burial mounds, with random bones strewn about.

Tie Zhu and the others jumped at the sight. “What’s wrong with you, Pudgy?” Tie Zhu snapped. “Why’d you shine your light over there? Scared the hell out of me!”

But Pudgy just laughed. “What’s there to be afraid of? Didn’t we bring along a ghost-seer, someone who can talk to the dead?”

His sarcasm was obvious, but I ignored him. We picked up the pace, moving through the tangled thickets and looming trees, their twisted branches forming grotesque shapes, as if a crowd of shadowy figures watched us from both sides.

After a while, we finally reached a clearing, where a pitch-black mountain loomed ahead, and before us stood the house San Bao had mentioned.

Surveying the area and seeing nothing amiss, we approached. Up close, the house turned out to be an old-fashioned courtyard, with yellow flags planted on either side of the entrance. I borrowed Tie Zhu’s flashlight and saw strange red characters painted on the flags—words I couldn’t decipher.

We didn’t dwell on it, pressing onward to the courtyard gate. As we gathered at the threshold, a gust of cold wind swept through, making the yellow flags snap and flutter. I shivered, glancing at the others—they all seemed equally hesitant, exchanging uncertain looks. After a moment, Pudgy stepped forward, declaring, “What’s there to fear? I’ll lead the way. Just follow me.”

Everyone nodded. I stuck close behind Pudgy. When we reached the main doors, he shone his flashlight upward, revealing two large characters on the signboard: “The Righteous House.” I paused, puzzled—I’d never heard of such a place. Pudgy glanced back and scoffed, “See? Just an ordinary manor, only abandoned. Though, calling it ‘The Righteous House’ is a pretty terrible name.”

The others relaxed somewhat at his words, but I couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling. Pudgy shoved open the main doors, which creaked ominously. Suddenly, a chorus of harsh cries erupted. We all jumped, whipping our lights upward to reveal several crows roosting on the roof—huge birds, their blood-red eyes glowing fiercely in the darkness.

In the countryside, crows are seen as a bad omen—the harbingers of misfortune. Their calls are universally detested.

Realizing it was just crows, we let out a collective sigh and crept inside. The courtyard was small, with a two-story annex at the back, resembling a traditional inn, though shrouded in an air of desolation.

We continued to the first-floor entrance, where Pudgy picked up a wooden stick from the ground and used it to push open the door. As the door swung open, something strange happened—all our flashlights began to flicker, sputtering out one by one until the place was plunged into darkness. Our nerves, barely steadied, were rattled once more.

One particularly timid kid shrieked, setting off a chain reaction—everyone began screaming, panic spreading like wildfire. Only Pudgy and I managed to keep our composure. Pudgy banged his stick against a pillar, yelling, “Cut it out! Can’t you toughen up a bit?”

Gradually, the chaos subsided. I addressed the group, “Check your flashlights—maybe the batteries are dead. Good thing the moon’s bright tonight. Otherwise, how would we find our way back in the dark?”

Everyone inspected their flashlights, but nothing seemed amiss. Tie Zhu turned to me, “They can’t be dead—I charged mine for ages this afternoon.”

I nodded, glancing at the moon outside. “What now? I told you all we shouldn’t come. Now look where we are.”

After my complaint, Pudgy spoke up, “We’re here already—no point turning back now. The real fun’s inside. Whoever’s brave comes with me; the rest can wait outside.” He shot me a look as he said it.

After exchanging silent glances, the others each picked up a stick from the ground and fell in behind Pudgy. I sighed, grabbed a stick of my own, and squeezed it tightly.

Pudgy then kicked open the door with a loud bang. “Ha! Your grandpa Pudgy is here! Any monsters or ghosts, come and get me!” he shouted.

We all filed into the first floor. Without the flashlights, it was hard to make out our surroundings, but we could tell the space was vast. We circled the room, trying to orient ourselves.

Suddenly, there was another loud bang. We jumped and spun around to see the main doors had closed by themselves. We rushed over, tugging at them with all our strength, but they wouldn’t budge. Panic set in again, and the same timid kid began screaming, tears rolling down his cheeks, “Let me out! I want to go home! Mom!”

His crying rattled us further—even Pudgy was rattled now. Only I maintained a semblance of calm; having seen ghosts since childhood, I was somewhat used to fear, though I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared.

Trying to steady everyone, I cleared my throat and shouted, “Don’t panic! There are lots of us. There must be another way out upstairs. Let’s check the second floor!”

With no other choice, everyone agreed. This time, I led the way, the others following closely behind as we navigated by the moonlight streaming in through the windows. Upstairs, the moonlight was even brighter, illuminating a long corridor lined with doors. I tried the first door, but it wouldn’t budge—it seemed locked from the inside.

I moved to the next room—same result. We split up, each trying a door, but none would open. Finally, San Bao, who’d been silent all this time, spoke up in a panic, “What do we do? If my parents wake up and find me gone, they’ll kill me for sure.”