Chapter Four: The Act of Peeping

A growing sense of dread welled up inside me. Living with someone like that was as if I was constantly walking with my head upon the chopping block. If Old Liu, the undertaker, ever found himself unable to carry on and set his sights on me or my father, there would be no escape for us, no matter how we tried to hide.

Before long, we arrived at Wang Ergong’s house. His father was about the same age as mine, always sporting a large belly and a head half lost to baldness. As we helped him reinstall the house beam, he chatted with me the whole time, saying my family had struck it rich this time—two whole plots of land—and that maybe, just maybe, I could land myself a pretty wife. I was absent-minded, and Wang Ergong’s gaze wandered too, glancing now and then in the direction of my house.

It was nearly noon when Carpenter Wang told Wang Ergong to take me to the restaurant at the village entrance for lunch, saying he had to go into town to fetch two pieces of timber. On the way, Wang Ergong whispered that my father had asked me to remind Aunt Hui not to bring him his lunch, not to forget. Then, coming closer, he murmured in my ear, “Should we pretend we know nothing and just go open Old Liu’s door? If there really is a corpse in there, we must tell your father—you know how dangerous and terrifying that would be otherwise.”

I hesitated, but Wang Ergong’s suggestion made sense. If there was truly something amiss with Old Liu, and with Wang Ergong as my witness, my father would have no choice but to believe me. And, after all, broad daylight was a far safer time.

We left Wang Ergong’s house and headed home. Aunt Hui was no longer in the courtyard. The kitchen still held rice and dishes—clearly, we’d returned late and she’d already gone to deliver food to my father. When he got back, I knew for certain I’d get another scolding.

The bamboo baskets in the yard were filled to the brim with paper ingots. Normally, such things wouldn’t bother me in the least, but today, just seeing them sent an icy chill coursing through my body.

Wang Ergong glanced at me, mouthed a word, and pointed towards Old Liu’s door. I braced myself and walked over, calling out, “Grandpa.” The room was silent, no response.

Sweat beaded on Wang Ergong’s forehead, though he was clearly braver than me. He reached out and shoved the door open with a thud that echoed against the wall. An unpleasant smell of burning incense and candles drifted out.

“There’s nothing here…” Wang Ergong said suddenly, his tone clearly relieved.

I looked closely at the head of Old Liu’s bed. The spot where the silver bowl usually sat was empty. Beside the bed sat an iron basin, filled with the remains of burnt incense and candles.

“What are you afraid of? This is your house—go inside and look around,” Wang Ergong said, emboldened by finding nothing amiss, and ridiculed me as he strode into Old Liu’s room. I followed him in.

The room was small—one glance was enough to take it all in.

There was a bed, a wooden table, and an old wooden wardrobe. No straw mat.

Wang Ergong wiped his brow. “Xie Yuan, I told you, you must have been drunk. What could there be in this room? Straw mat, dead people—you’re just scaring yourself.”

My heart thudded furiously, but the events of last night remained vivid in my mind. There was no way I could have been so mistaken.

“He must’ve carried the straw mat out…” I blurted out.

Suddenly, Wang Ergong’s voice turned uneasy. “Xie Yuan, maybe we’d better go out for now…”

His tone had changed. Startled, I looked where his eyes were fixed in fear.

In the corner, where the door met the wall, there lay a pair of black cloth shoes—noticeably smaller than what any living person would wear. They were unmistakably the tiny shoes made for the dead! And next to those shoes stood a rolled-up straw mat, bulging and stuffed with something. Otherwise, it never could have stood upright.

“Xie Yuan… we should…” Wang Ergong started to say, but just then, we heard shuffling footsteps and a hoarse cough from outside.

Old Liu had returned!

A chill shot down my spine, but from somewhere came a surge of courage. I strode to the corner, grabbed the dead man’s shoes, and left the room.

“What are you doing, Xie Yuan!” Wang Ergong hissed, eyes wide.

“Evidence… I need my father to see these dead man’s shoes,” I replied, voice trembling, fingers pinching the black shoes as I hurried to my own room, tossing them under my bed.

Wang Ergong, pale as a ghost, stared at me and raised his thumb. “You’re something else…”

I pulled him into my room and shut the door quickly. The yard gate creaked open. Holding my breath, I cautiously peeked through the crack.

Old Liu, hunched and stooped, had entered the yard. The age spots on his face were stark in the sunlight—patches of white against his ageing skin, making his face look almost delicate, but far more unsettling.

Wang Ergong’s expression was grim as he shot me a look. That’s when I realized we’d left Old Liu’s door wide open. If we’d closed it, he might not have noticed the missing shoes right away. Now, though, it was obvious someone had been in his room.

Old Liu stood in the yard for two or three minutes before finally entering his room, shutting the door tightly behind him and not emerging again.

Wang Ergong and I exchanged glances. He was pale as death and whispered, “It’s like seeing a real ghost… When he stood there, it felt like looking at a corpse.”

I motioned for silence. “We’d better get out before he notices us,” I whispered.

Wang Ergong rolled his eyes, muttering, “What’s he gonna do, anyway…” though his voice betrayed his lack of confidence.

We crouched by the door for a good ten minutes, but Old Liu didn’t come out. Taking advantage of the moment, we slipped out of the house and onto the village road. I felt utterly drained, as if all strength had left my body.

Wang Ergong asked what we should do next. Old Liu was clearly suspicious, but we hadn’t unrolled the straw mat to see if there really was a corpse inside. Should we go straight to the village chief? What if we were wrong, and there was no corpse?

I shook my head, feeling uneasy. “We can’t go straight to the chief. If we’re wrong, my father will kill me. I’ve already got the shoes—let’s wait for my father to see them and then decide what to do.”

Wang Ergong nodded, agreeing that was the only option.

I told him to come with me back to the fields. We hurried over, and from a distance I could see my father eating lunch, Aunt Hui wiping the sweat from his brow.

Wang Ergong tugged my arm. “Don’t forget, Old Liu is Aunt Hui’s father. Can you really talk about this in front of her?”

I hesitated, but then steeled myself. “Why not? If she truly cares about my father, how could she just stand by if her own father did something like this?”

Wang Ergong’s lips moved as if he wanted to say more, but in the end he fell silent.

We reached the edge of the field. My father didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t scold me—just asked, “Did you finish helping at Ergong’s house?”

I nodded, taking a deep breath. “Dad, just now, Ergong and I went home and found something in Grandpa’s room.”

My father’s expression froze, his brow furrowing as he snapped, “What were you doing in Grandpa’s room? Are you still drunk?”

Aunt Hui frowned too, looking at me. “What’s wrong, Xie Yuan? What happened to Grandpa?”

Ignoring my father’s warning glare, I mustered my courage and pressed on, “The straw mat is still in his room. I took out the dead man’s shoes. Dad, you have to believe me—I’m not lying…”

Without warning, my father slapped me hard across the face, the sound ringing out sharp and clear. The blow left me dazed.

Wang Ergong was startled and pleaded with my father not to hit me. My father, breathing heavily, said, “Ergong, go home. Don’t listen to Xie Yuan—he’s talking nonsense. He’s lost his mind.”

As he spoke, he raised his hand to hit me again, but Aunt Hui quickly intervened. “What are you doing, Old Xie? If there’s something wrong, talk it out. Xie Yuan’s not a child anymore—don’t hit him.”

“We’ll talk at home! No more nonsense!” My father shot me a threatening glare.

Wang Ergong tugged my arm, whispering, “I’ll be heading home now.” In a voice barely audible, he urged me to talk things over calmly with my father and not argue with him.