Chapter Five: Barbecue on the Mountain, Strange Occurrences at the Old House

I stood up, just about to call his name, when suddenly a scream, as shrill as a pig being slaughtered, rang out from behind the house.

“Lao Yuan! Get over here! Damn it, hurry!”

Hearing such a bloodcurdling scream in the middle of the night, deep in these deserted mountains, sent a chill through me—even though I knew it was just Lao Tan. But his panic sounded real, so I rushed around the house without delay.

“What are you yelling about?” I demanded as I arrived, finding Lao Tan crouched on the ground with a flashlight, peering around like a thief.

It wasn't until I was right behind him that he finally turned his head. “Hey, take a look at this—what do you think it is?”

My family's old house is a typical rural dwelling in eastern Sichuan: spacious, with a large courtyard. Behind the house is the pigsty, and the area between the house and the sty is used for stacking firewood. The latrine is just outside the sty’s fence. Lao Tan had probably come to relieve himself and stumbled upon something unusual. But this was my family’s house—I knew every part of it—so his exaggerated expression only made me impatient.

“What could there be here besides firewood or whatever's in the latrine? Don’t tell me you found…” As I spoke, my eyes followed the beam of his flashlight, and I suddenly froze.

The light revealed something odd at the base of the wall where the firewood was stacked—about half a meter above the ground, three very peculiar… bricks.

Houses in the village are wooden, but kitchens are usually built with clay bricks for fire safety. These three strange bricks were set in the same arrangement as the others—two on top, one below. But unlike the surrounding bricks, these were a bronze color, and their surfaces bore relief carvings.

“Are you hiding treasure behind your firewood?” Lao Tan asked, glancing at me. “Could these be gold bricks?”

“I have no idea if they’re gold bricks, but I’ve never seen them before…”

We were both dumbfounded, unsure what to say, so we leaned in to examine the carvings more closely. Each brick bore a different relief. The lowest depicted a landscape; the upper left one, several figures, all seen from behind—but clearly in ancient dress. The upper right’s carving was indecipherable to both of us, just a tangle of lines.

I reached out and touched them. The bricks were definitely metal, but whether they were gold or bronze was impossible to tell.

“You really never saw these before?” Lao Tan pressed.

“Why would I lie? Maybe there was a crack here at some point and my dad patched it with these.” Thinking back, I realized I’d never really paid attention to this spot. It was always piled with firewood, and as a child, I was coddled like a young master—never had to light a fire, let alone handle the wood.

“A crack? No way. I’m sure these have always been here,” Lao Tan said with uncharacteristic certainty.

I asked him why.

“Look, these aren’t clay bricks, but they’re exactly the same size as the ones around them. And see the packed earth between the bricks? It matches the others in both age and thickness. That means these metal bricks were built into the wall from the start.”

I took another look and had to admit he had a point. “Not bad—since when did you get such sharp eyes?”

“I’m always observant; that’s called wisdom in disguise,” Lao Tan said smugly, shaking his head. “In fact, I have a feeling this wall was built specifically for these three bricks.”

“That’s impossible. Even if they’re gold bricks, why would anyone build a wall just for that?”

“If you want to know the reason, you’ll have to ask your dad or someone in your family. But look closely—the bricks in this wall are all smaller than usual.”

His words sent a chill down my spine. “You’re right… They’re at least a third shorter than standard bricks.”

This old house was at least fifty or sixty years old. My grandfather had lived here, and at first, it was all wood. I clearly remembered when I was six, the whole village helped haul bricks and stones up from the pier.

“Standard bricks haven’t changed much in size—stone, sand, clay, or hollow bricks, unless for special buildings, are pretty much always the same. And look, the edges are unbroken, so the size was altered during production. These were made to fit those three metal bricks exactly. That could only mean the clay bricks were deliberately matched to them for some reason.”

I thought it over and had to admit Lao Tan’s reasoning made sense. “But that seems like an awful lot of trouble.”

Lao Tan rubbed his chin and suddenly looked up at me. “Now I’m really starting to think these are gold bricks.”

“Huh?”

“Think about it—you grew up here and never noticed them. No one else would ever guess there was anything odd about this wall. I bet your grandpa or your dad did this on purpose. Three gold bricks, and they look like antiques, too. Even now, they’d be worth a fortune. I always thought your dad was clever—this must have been his idea. ‘The safest place is the most dangerous place.’”

“You talk a good game, but we can’t just tear down the wall to prove it. Let’s put out the fire and get some sleep; we can ask my dad when he gets here. I’ve had enough of the stink from the latrine.” Now that I’d calmed down, it all seemed less mysterious, and I urged Lao Tan to leave.

But he seemed fascinated by the bizarre bricks, squatting there like a scholar to study the carvings.

I was about to scold him when suddenly he held up a hand, signaling me to stop. Then he grew agitated, dropping to his knees and pressing his face close to the wall.

“I… I can’t be seeing things,” he muttered, turning toward me with a look of terror. Before I could ask, he grabbed my collar and pulled me down beside him, motioning for me to look.

The flashlight shone on the upper left brick, upon which several figures were carved, all seen from behind. But as soon as my gaze landed on them, it felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head—I went cold all over. At that moment, the carved figures had turned their faces toward us. Even in the dim light, I could see that the faces were twisted into sinister, chilling grins.

People can have illusions, but the difference between the front and back of a group of people is too great for a mistake. If it were a painting, maybe there’d be room for doubt, but these were reliefs—solid metal carvings. How could they possibly turn their faces on their own?

All the figures grinned widely, making my skin crawl.

“Yuan Jie, what the hell is going on?” Lao Tan stammered, clutching my sleeve in fear.

“I don’t know… Maybe we just drank too much…” I wanted to blame the alcohol, but we’d only had two cans each—hardly enough. “Let’s just go back inside. We’ll wait for my dad and ask him about it.”

We couldn’t bear to look any longer. I hurriedly covered the bricks with firewood, then Lao Tan and I briskly returned to the front yard. Sitting by the dying fire, our cigarettes shook in our mouths.

“Lao Yuan, let’s sleep in the tent tonight,” Lao Tan said, glancing fearfully at me, then at the old house behind us.

“Nonsense. I’m home—who sleeps outside when there’s a bed?” I tried to sound tough, though deep down I felt just like him.

“But…”

“No buts. My bed’s big—we can share it. If you’re really scared, we’ll just sit here all night.”

“You’re shaking like a leaf too! Fine, let’s go inside and sleep.”

“Let’s put out the fire; a few hours in bed and it’ll be dawn.”

We doused the fire, gathered our things, and, feeling jittery, went back inside.

No matter how strange something is, as long as nothing bad happens, people are quick to find excuses or simply forget. When we first stepped into the house, we both avoided looking toward the kitchen. But once we lay down and chatted for a bit, sleepiness soon overtook us.

Out of habit, like most people nowadays, I pulled out my phone before falling asleep. I meant to play a couple of games, but when I looked, I saw I had a full signal.

“Hey, there’s signal,” I said, nudging Lao Tan with my elbow.

“So what? I’m exhausted. Just mute your phone,” he grumbled, kicking me irritably.

“True enough,” I muttered, suddenly tempted to try calling my dad again. We hadn’t been able to reach him lately, but with Grandpa’s memorial coming up, he should have his phone on by now.

Not expecting much, I opened my contacts and dialed his number.

The deep mountain night was so quiet, the few seconds waiting for the call to connect felt endless.

Beep.

The call actually went through. Excited, I sat up a little. Maybe my dad was already on his way.

As I waited for him to pick up, I tried to think how to explain calling so late. As I mused, I began to hear a faint, rhythmic sound in my ear. I listened more closely, recognizing it—very regular.

Beeeeep… beeeeeep… beeeeeep…

The electronic tone in the phone made every muscle in my body tense. I suddenly realized what it was. I hung up, and instantly, the sound outside vanished too. I dialed again—

“Lao Tan, wake up—something’s wrong.”