Chapter Nine: The Betrothal and Bride Price

Grandfather often said: Never plant mulberry in the front, never plant willow in the back, and never plant the ghost’s clapping tree in the courtyard.

The mulberry refers to the mulberry tree, which symbolizes mourning and is considered unlucky. The willow tree doesn’t bear seeds, implying the end of lineage; moreover, willow is one of the five yin trees and is not suitable to be planted near a dwelling, as it tends to harbor filth and invite evil—it's taboo. The ghost’s clapping tree refers to the poplar; its leaves rustle loudly in the wind, sounding like ghosts clapping their hands, which can be terrifying in the dead of night. Still, this has nothing to do with feng shui or the balance of yin and yang.

Now, seeing a swirl of mist under the willow, coming so mysteriously at night, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Lately, so many strange things had happened that I could hardly restrain my imagination.

And as soon as I thought of something, it appeared.

Suddenly, a woman walked out from beneath the tree.

Her hair hung loose, her head bowed. In the dim night, I couldn't see her face clearly. Out so late at night, there was no way I'd believe she was just passing by. My heart skipped a beat; I lowered my head, pretending not to notice, climbed onto my bicycle, and prepared to flee. But as I hopped onto the bike and pressed down on the pedal, the chain spun uselessly—the bike wouldn’t move. Looking down, I saw the chain had fallen off.

Damn it. I abandoned the bicycle and tried to run.

But after only a few steps, she was already standing in front of me, blocking my escape.

Between her damp hair, a deathly pale face gradually appeared, along with a pair of reddened eyes.

Honestly, my soul nearly fled my body; cold sweat streamed down my back.

She let out a chilling laugh, her voice cold and sinister, seeping into my bones.

“Am I beautiful?” she asked.

How could I dare to answer?

Seeing my silence, she asked again, “Am I beautiful?”

“Beautiful! Very… beautiful!”

Helpless, I gave a reply against my heart. Was she really beautiful? Not in the least—she was terrifying enough to kill! I could only hope she’d be satisfied and let me go.

Hearing my answer, the corners of her mouth slowly split into a twisted, bizarre smile, as if she was pleased. Then she reached out and took my hand, seeming to want to lead me somewhere. The moment her hand touched my wrist, I felt a bone-chilling cold—like a snake crawling up my arm and enveloping my whole body.

I tried to pull away, but her hand, though not forceful, felt welded to mine; I couldn’t escape.

“Lin Yi, do you remember me? I’m Xiao Jing,” she suddenly said.

When she spoke her name, I realized her voice sounded familiar. Thinking carefully, I was startled—Xiao Jing, wasn’t she He Xiao Jing? She was my desk mate in elementary school; I’d seen her once two years ago. It was truly her—I remembered now. After all these years, I never expected her to become like this.

Was she a person or a ghost?

“I… I feel so cold, Brother Lin Yi, please help me!” Her tone was almost pleading.

“How can I help?” I stammered, shivering.

Then He Xiao Jing pointed ahead, saying, “Do you see? There’s a paper figure tied to the wind-stabilizing post. Go and burn it, and I’ll be saved.” I followed her stiff finger and saw that, indeed, there was a wind-stabilizing post by the river, and someone was tied to it.

From afar, the figure on the post wore black clothes, head drooping, utterly lifeless.

Taking a few steps closer, my heart jolted, because the figure on the post looked familiar—it seemed to be my grandfather.

I hurried my pace.

Getting closer, I realized it wasn’t a real person, but a paper effigy. The figure was crafted in my grandfather’s likeness, vivid and lifelike; from a distance, you’d mistake it for the real thing.

He Xiao Jing told me that burning this paper figure could save her, which puzzled me. There seemed to be no connection between the paper figure resembling my grandfather and He Xiao Jing.

“Brother Lin Yi, actually, all of this happened because of Ma Cripple. Only your grandfather can save me. Now, your grandfather’s soul is tied to that wind-stabilizing post; he’s in grave danger. Only a living person can breathe life into him and burn the paper figure—then your grandfather’s soul can be saved. I’ve waited here by the willow for several days, and finally ran into you…” He Xiao Jing spoke stiffly, struggling with her words.

“Wait, didn’t Ma Cripple die?” I asked.

“No, Ma Cripple didn’t die. He used a shell game—what died was a yellow fox substitute. He’s hiding in the shadows, and captured your grandfather’s soul,” she replied.

Captured his soul?

With all the recent strange happenings, the term “captured soul” didn’t seem so far-fetched.

So, my grandfather’s failure to wake was because Ma Cripple had captured his soul?

I never expected that our trip to Dongwa Village, fruitless in seeking Wang the Spirit Woman’s help, would instead reveal the cause of my grandfather’s coma here.

Was this luck, or mere coincidence?

Thinking carefully, something felt strange, not quite right. But my grandfather’s condition was urgent; there was no time to delay. If there was a chance to save him, even at risk, it was worth trying.

With that resolve, I stopped hesitating and walked toward the wind-stabilizing post.

But after a few steps, I sensed something wrong—no matter how I walked, I couldn’t get closer to the post; I remained ten meters away.

I tried to bypass the undergrowth, but as I was about to reach it, a willow branch snagged my clothes.

I thought someone had grabbed my shirt. Turning to look, thankfully, no one was there. But as I was about to turn back and move on, a deathly pale hand suddenly reached out and grabbed my shoulder.

The grip was strong; I couldn’t move.

Startled, I froze.

Then came a sharp, crisp slap.

I was struck hard, and in a daze, I saw Wang the Spirit Woman standing behind me, her hand clutching my shoulder.

Was she stopping me from rescuing my grandfather?

I tried to shake her off, but found I had no strength. I said, “Let go! What grudge do you have against my grandfather? Are you just going to watch him die?”

After all, she and my grandfather knew each other. Not only did she refuse to help him, she now blocked me from saving him. I was furious.

“Look carefully at what’s in front of you,” Wang the Spirit Woman reminded.

I turned to look and was shocked—there was a large pond ahead. One of my feet had already stepped over the edge; one more step and I’d fall in.

Dongwa Village sits in a low area, with several deep ponds filled with black silt. Step in, and the silt will suck you down—many had drowned here before.

Aside from that, there was nothing else, and certainly no wind-stabilizing post.

The dark water’s surface was bottomless.

If Wang the Spirit Woman hadn’t grabbed me, I might have lost my life.

“Now that you see clearly, I won’t stop you. If you want to jump, jump!” She prepared to let go.

“No, no! I don’t want to jump!” I hurriedly called out. If she released me, I’d lose my balance and surely fall in.

Wang the Spirit Woman said nothing, just pulled me back. I looked around and asked if she’d seen He Xiao Jing. She said no—she only saw me circling one spot, talking to myself, then trying to jump into the pond, so she came to pull me back.

She said I’d been blinded by something unclean. She produced a mirror for me to look at, and I saw black silt smeared on my forehead and eyelids.

She explained that water ghosts often use black silt to blind their victims. Wang the Spirit Woman told me to follow her back and wash my face thoroughly. Then she dabbed a bit of cinnabar powder on my temples; my mind, which had been foggy, cleared up considerably.

After finishing, she sat down to drink tea. Perhaps because of my grandfather’s situation, she didn’t pour me any, only sipped her own.

The atmosphere grew awkward again. I dared not broach the subject of saving my grandfather. Night had fallen, the moon was hidden, and outside was ink-black; I feared I’d meet more unclean things on my way home. So I changed the topic and asked about He Xiao Jing.

Wang the Spirit Woman took a sip of tea and said, “Last year, a girl drowned in that pond over there—it was her.”

“What?” I was shocked and saddened. I asked why He Xiao Jing had drowned, but Wang the Spirit Woman didn’t give a direct answer, only saying, “She jumped in herself. They say she cried by the pond all night before.”

“Didn't her family care?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” she replied.

“But she just said Ma Cripple harmed her,” I said.

Wang the Spirit Woman paused, looked at me, and asked, “Ma Cripple?”

Before I could reply, she shook her head and said, “No. What you heard was all ghost talk—ghosts deceive. Whether what she said was true or not, her only purpose was to trick you into the pond as a substitute.”

I nodded, honestly feeling some lingering fear. He Xiao Jing’s story stirred ripples in my heart. She’d always been a lively, cheerful girl—why would she choose to end her life in the pond?

Lost in thought, Wang the Spirit Woman suddenly spoke.

“Child, I can help you with Lin Tianjian’s matter. But remember, I’m only helping for the sake of our neighboring villages—it has nothing to do with Lin Tianjian himself!”

Her words came unexpectedly.

I never imagined she’d agree to help without warning.

“Yes… yes! As long as you’re willing to save my grandfather, I’ll do anything you ask!”

Truthfully, I really wanted to ask about her story with my grandfather, but now was not the time. If she agreed to save him, nothing else mattered.

Then Wang the Spirit Woman looked me over, a mysterious, unreadable smile appearing on her face. She asked, “Really, anything?”

It was nothing at first, but her question made me a little uneasy.

Still, I swallowed, steeled myself, and nodded.

“Wait here.”

She went inside. Two minutes later, she emerged carrying an ancient-looking red wooden box with gold inlay and carved designs. It was about the size of a pencil case, exquisitely made, and with a sense of age—it must be an antique. I didn’t know why she brought it out, so I asked, “What’s this?”

“This is your betrothal gift.”