Chapter Six: The Fool’s Grave Is Unearthed

"Yezi, don't be afraid. Just think of it as saving your Uncle Stone this once, and from now on, I'll buy you sweets every day. You saved the fool before—she won't hurt me while you're here," Chen Stone said as he burned paper money.

At that moment, I finally broke down and cried. Chen Stone came over and gave me such a slap that my head nearly came off. Then he pulled out a kitchen knife and growled, "Cry one more time and I'll cut off your head. If I can't live, you won't either!"

Maybe that slap stunned me, or maybe it was the knife that scared me senseless. All I remember is feeling a constant stream of urine soaking my pants, and even when there was nothing left, I still couldn't stop.

After burning the paper money, Chen Stone grabbed a shovel and began to dig up the fool's grave.

I stared at him in a daze as he dug the fool out, then used the knife to cut open her belly. From inside, he took out a lump of flesh and placed it into a jar.

Chen Stone was shaking the entire time. After retrieving the flesh, he hurriedly buried the fool again, then grabbed me and ran madly back to the village, finally dumping me just outside my house's courtyard.

The first thing I did when I came to my senses was wail, a piercing, heart-wrenching cry. My grandfather and mother rushed out, scooped me up, and brought me inside. My mother held me close, asking over and over what had happened, but I couldn't stop crying until dawn.

That morning, Chen Stone arrived carrying several chickens and a basket of eggs.

At the sight of him, I buried myself in my grandfather's arms in terror. Chen Stone, seeing my grandfather, fell to his knees and slapped his own face, sobbing, "Uncle Tiancheng, I’m sorry! I was the one who secretly took Yezi away last night!"

My grandfather was always a calm man. Holding me, he said, "The child reeks of death. I figured it was you. Now, tell me what happened."

"Old Lady Wang said the fool didn't come back to haunt me for revenge. She said death was easier for her than life. She returned for two reasons: first, to thank little Yezi, and second, because she was pregnant when she died. She hated our Chen family and didn't want to take our family's seed with her to the grave. She came back to give me the child. If I took the child out, she wouldn't trouble me anymore. Uncle Tiancheng, I had no choice. I was scared. Old Lady Wang said if I brought Yezi, the fool wouldn't hurt me in her presence—she saw Yezi as her savior!" Chen Stone cried, remaining on his knees.

My mother's face turned ashen when she heard this. My grandfather was angry too, but he looked at Chen Stone and said, "You fool. Even if Yezi could help, you should have told me. I could’ve brought the child myself, and Yezi wouldn’t be so traumatized. Since she came back last night, her spirit’s been lost—probably left behind at that grave. Jinzhi, take her clothes to the fool's grave and call her soul back; that should do the trick."

He turned to Chen Stone. "It's done. No point beating or scolding you now. Take your things back. You have three children at home—it’s not easy. The fool is gone, and whatever your faults, that child was hers. If you care for her, maybe she'll forgive you. Go home, and don't speak of this. Yezi is still a child; she can't handle more shocks."

My mother took my clothes to the widow's grave, shaking them and calling, "Yezi, come home, Yezi, come home." This was the village way of calling a soul back. By noon, I finally began to recover, though I was still trembling all over. My grandfather, smoking his long-stemmed pipe, told me, "Yezi, the fool won't hurt you. You tried to save her with a branch—she remembers your kindness. Ghosts only harm the wicked, not the good."

That very night, word came from the neighboring village: Old Lady Wang was dead—she had drowned herself at the very spot where the fool's body was fished out. People said she left after dinner, and everyone she passed noticed something strange—she ignored every greeting, though she was usually friendly and kind.

Old Lady Wang was a renowned spirit medium in our area. Her suicide, and in such a place, struck terror into the villagers. Clearly, they thought, the fool had come back and even dragged the soul of the spirit medium away. It became the talk of the villages; some women were so frightened they didn’t dare leave their homes.

The next day, more news spread: before she died, Old Lady Wang had said to her son, "I judged the wrong case. I can’t escape this disaster."

She died right after dealing with the fool's case, and left such words behind. The villagers speculated endlessly and finally concluded, "Chen Stone killed the fool. The fool was after Chen Stone's life, but Old Lady Wang intervened and saved him. A life had to be traded for a life, so the fool took Old Lady Wang instead."

Of course, it was just speculation—no one knew the real truth.

In any case, after that, the fool never stirred up trouble again. Peace returned. In life, no one had ever helped her, but in death, she caused enough commotion for everyone to remember her. The river where she died became taboo for us children—anyone caught swimming there would be beaten half to death. For years, even the adults avoided the riverbank whenever possible.

This left a deep shadow over my childhood. Later, Chen Stone kept his promise—he would buy me sweets every time he saw me, even though he couldn’t bring himself to buy any for his own children. But I never ate them. Every time I saw him, I shook with fear, haunted by the memory of him digging that lump of flesh from the fool’s belly. After every encounter, I’d be lost in a daze for days. Eventually, my grandfather and mother told Chen Stone to keep his distance, lest he frighten me again. Because of this, I hardly ever saw him in the village, and our families rarely crossed paths. Later, I heard from the villagers that his family grew poorer—after all, a man raising three children alone had it rough. But no matter how hard things got, Chen Stone managed to bring up all three children.

Chen Stone worked himself to the bone to raise those three sons. They grew up, but because they had little discipline, they became lazy, gluttonous troublemakers. The family grew even poorer. Now that all three brothers were grown, marriage was out of the question, though all of them wanted wives. But instead of working hard and earning money, they’d beat their own father every few days, dragging him out of the house for a thrashing. The village committee tried to mediate several times, but the brothers insisted, "If our father doesn’t get us wives and build us houses, who else should we beat?"

The mediations led nowhere, and no one else wanted to get involved in their mess. No one expected that, out of desperation, Chen Stone would actually bite the bullet, borrow some money from neighbors, scrape together his odd-job earnings, and buy a woman for his family.

But with three sons, all as fierce as wolves and starved for female company, things immediately got complicated. No matter which son Chen Stone gave the woman to, the other two would probably tear their father apart. The whole village watched, waiting for the drama to unfold, but to everyone’s surprise, the Chen household suddenly grew quiet. All three brothers—and their father—rarely left the house.

At that, everyone realized what had happened and cursed under their breath. Clearly, the Chen family had inherited not only poverty, but also depravity. It seemed the three brothers had taken the woman for themselves.

This scandal swept through the village, making even my older brother, the corpse-fisher, seem unremarkable by comparison. When I heard the rumors, I immediately understood the gravity of the situation.

By rights, those three brutes deserved to be punished by law. Worse, the woman they’d bought was suffering terribly—those three brothers, raised on the charity of the entire village, were as strong as young bulls. If they were truly tormenting one woman together, she’d be lucky to survive at all.

For most things, I could turn a blind eye, but what little sense of justice I had insisted that I intervene. Still, because of my childhood trauma, I dreaded any dealings with the Chen family. So I went to find the village chief, Chen Qingshan. The three Chen brothers had simple names—Da Kui, Er Kui, and San Kui—but their violent tempers had earned them the nickname "the Three Mad Dogs." Chen Qingshan was the only one in the village who could keep them in check.

There’s an old saying: city officials drink their way to power, but country officials fight their way up. It was true of Chen Qingshan. Over six feet tall, he’d been a fan of Jet Li’s "Shaolin Temple" as a boy, and once brought steamed buns to Songshan, hoping to become a monk. Though he never entered Shaolin, he spent a few years learning martial arts from a teacher in Dengfeng. He wasn’t exactly a kung fu master, but he could fight, and once took on all three Chen brothers at once, beating them so soundly they couldn’t stand. From then on, they respected him deeply.

Chen Qingshan wasn’t well educated, but he loved his position as village chief. Though it wasn’t much, he valued his little bit of authority, and he was a loyal, courageous man who looked out for me. When I found him, he greeted me warmly, uncorking a bottle of liquor. "Yezi, of all the young people in the village, you’re the only one I truly enjoy drinking with. Come on!"

I held his hand down. "Chief, we can drink anytime, but today I need your help with something important."

He looked at me and said, "Is it about Chen Stone buying a wife? I’ve told you already, I know trafficking is illegal, but with the way things are in this village, what choice did he have?"