C6 Ghost Cry

On the western edge of the village, there's a pine forest rumored to have been planted some forty to fifty years ago by a passing Daoist priest at the behest of the old village chief.

Barefoot and begging for food, the priest's feet were so caked with mud they seemed to carry two pounds of earth. He roamed the area for half a month, but other villages, put off by his foreign accent and odd attire, chased him away.

Desperate with hunger, the priest resorted to stealing chickens and dogs to survive. This led to the simple-hearted villagers attacking him with pitchforks and rakes. Fleeing in panic, he eventually found refuge in our village.

At that time, our village chief, who was under the thumb of his wife, was nursing a belly full of grievances from a recent scolding. As he stood idly at the village entrance, a beggar-like figure came running towards him, pursued by an angry mob armed and ready to do harm. The chief, seeing an opportunity to vent, shielded the beggar without a word and fiercely berated the pursuers. The neighboring villagers, feeling slighted yet unable to retaliate against the chief on his own turf, left dejectedly. This beggar turned out to be the Daoist priest.

Perhaps sensing a kindred spirit, the village chief treated the priest to a meal, moving him to tears. In gratitude, the priest spent three days and nights assessing the village's Feng Shui and advised planting a pine forest to the west. He meticulously arranged 108 trees, each spaced precisely three feet and three inches apart, forming an octagon – all under his careful supervision.

After the trees were planted, the priest departed, and misfortune seemed to befall our village. Previously, we had been the envy of the county, not wealthy but always with enough meat on the table. However, since the pine forest took root, our crops failed year after year, and the villagers' endeavors met with loss. Eventually, we were reduced to selling our clothes for food. Everyone cursed the Daoist priest for our ill luck.

However, turmoil soon arose, and the surrounding villages were all impacted. Our village was the only one fortunate enough to escape unscathed, likely due to our poverty. After the unrest, our village gradually improved, continuing to this day.

While walking towards the pine forest west of the village, I shared the story of its origins with Wang Dali. Upon hearing it, his eyes bulged in disbelief.

"Charlatan! That Taoist priest is clearly a con artist! He had us plant pine trees, and when times were tough, he skedaddled. Now that the village is doing well, he claims the credit. It's an obvious scam!" he exclaimed.

I let out a wry smile. To the average person, the Five Elements and Eight Trigrams are too esoteric, and exorcising spirits seems too secretive. Most people probably consider us frauds, as Wang Dali's previous attitude suggested. There were quite a few in the village who shared his sentiment, and rumors were that some even wanted to break the Taoist priest's legs.

"Scammer or not, the trees have been here for years. Let's go see what's actually inside," I suggested.

The pine forest had been neglected for many years, filled with dead branches and leaves. The trees had grown wild and dense, blocking out the sunlight. Despite it being broad daylight, the forest had an eerie, dark atmosphere.

Just as we stepped into the woods, Wang Dali, towering like a steel tower, shuddered and asked me cautiously, "Wang Xu, you're the expert here. Take a look around and see if there's anything unclean. Ever since we entered, the hairs on the back of my neck have been standing on end."

I nodded, wiped my eyelids with willow leaf water, and scanned the surroundings. Aside from the occasional lingering spirits between the trees, there was nothing. This was indeed a pristine forest, perhaps even cleaner than the village itself.

"There's nothing unclean here, but I'm not feeling great either. The land never lies; there's definitely something off about this place."

Together, Wang Dali and I ventured deeper into the heart of the pine forest, towards the center of the 108 trees. The further we went, the more unsettling it felt. By the time we reached the center, our complexions were ashen, and we were overcome with a sense of dread.

"Wang Xu, are you sure there's nothing wrong here? Why do my legs feel so shaky, and why is there a cold sweat running down my back?" Wang Dali asked, visibly troubled.

Even someone as robust as Wang Dali couldn't help but feel diminished at the heart of the pine forest, exuding a lack of confidence.

But when confronting these malevolent spirits, one must not show fear. The moment you do, your vital energy weakens by a third, providing an opening for these sinister entities. That's why there's a saying: don't speak of humans by day or ghosts by night. Telling ghost stories after dark is just asking for trouble.

"Don't worry, though this place feels a bit eerie, there's really nothing here. As for the shakiness in your legs... you might want to strengthen your kidneys once we're back. Pretty much everyone in our village knows about your escapade with Xiao Feng in the haystack..."

After I brought up that incident, Wang Dali's face turned beet red, and he hung his head. It took him a while before he managed to say,

"Wang Xu, you... you better not tell anyone else about this, especially Lele!"

I let out a sly laugh, neither confirming nor denying. This 'gorilla' would likely be on his best behavior around me for quite some time.

Oddly enough, despite standing in the center of the pine forest for an extended period, Wang Dali and I saw nothing out of the ordinary. We just felt an ever-increasing chill.

I had wiped my eyes with a willow leaf four or five times, but still, nothing was visible. I couldn't shake off a feeling of unsteadiness in my feet, and a slight fear seemed unavoidable.

Zhou once said that what truly terrifies people isn't the most vicious ghost, but rather the unseen, the unknown. Right now, even I can't make sense of our situation.

But being at a loss for an explanation doesn't mean we're out of options. If this is related to spirits, burning joss paper should do the trick! Whether or not the spirits have returned to the netherworld, the offering is bound to draw them out.

So I began to draw circles and burn paper, fanning the ashes to spread them far and wide, hoping to attract more attention.

After a while with no response, Wang Dali gulped and suggested,

"Wang Xu, what if I go snap off a couple of corn cobs? We could roast them!"

I gave him a sidelong glance. This guy was way too carefree.

The ash from the paper scattered all around, yet nothing out of the ordinary happened. I had no choice but to grit my teeth and erase part of the circle I had drawn before setting the paper alight.

Indeed, by doing this, the wandering spirits would have no hesitation in taking the money I had burned for them. The allure of the ash for the spirits was significantly stronger, but at the same time, I had increased the danger for both Wang Dali and myself.

After all, who knew what was lurking in these woods?

Whimper... whimper...

From the depths of the dense forest, a soft yet unmistakable sobbing sound reached my ears, and Wang Dali's face turned ashen with fear. Clearly, he had heard it too.

"Wang Xu, what's that sound...?"

I quickly reassured Wang Dali,

"Don't be scared, Dali. It's just a ghost crying..."

Wang Dali was terrified.

"Ah! There really is a ghost, and it's crying! What do we do now? Stop burning the paper, will you? This is no time for that!"

I smirked slightly and said,

"Haven't you heard the old saying? It's not the crying of ghosts we should fear, but their laughter. If it can cry, it's harmless. Come on, let's go check it out."