Facing this woman, who was most likely connected to the film-and-television ghost, Wang Liang wanted to know more.
“A family’s daughter is having her seventh-day rites, and the whole village actually went? Does that family have a lot of prestige in the village?”
The hunchbacked old man shook his head.
“Sigh, that’s hard to say. Anyway, we’re all from the same village. Just helping each other out.”
“Then why aren’t you going, sir?”
“Me? I… I won’t be going. Not much point.”
Wang Liang looked at the old man’s hesitant expression. He was practically one step away from having “there’s something wrong here” written on his face.
He thought for a moment, then said,
“How about this, uncle. Do you have any spare rooms at home? Since we’ve decided to contribute some condolence money and attend their seventh-day rites, my brother and I would like to stay here for a few days. We’ll pay you rent—how does five hundred a day sound? My brother will pay. He’s not short on money.”
“Five hundred a day?!”
The hunchbacked old man was shocked. He looked toward Zhou Kun beside Wang Liang, not expecting this stern-faced young man to be so rich.
Seeing that Zhou Kun said nothing, Wang Liang bumped him with his elbow.
The corner of Zhou Kun’s mouth twitched, but he still nodded.
“T-then… all right. I still have two empty rooms. You can have a meal when the time comes, but after that you should hurry up and leave. There’s nothing worth staying for here.”
In the end, the hunchbacked old man could not resist the allure of money and agreed. He thumped his not-so-agile knees, sighed, clasped his hands behind his back, bent at the waist, and led the way to where he lived in the village.
“Come on, I’ll take you to see the rooms. I really don’t understand you young people. What’s so worth attending about seventh-day rites? Why attend something like that? You don’t even know the family. You’re just bringing bad luck on yourselves and wasting money too.”
Wang Liang followed behind the old man with a smile. Zhou Kun did the same.
“We’re already here.”
The hunchbacked old man’s house was considered fairly decent in the village, a two-story brick-and-tile building.
The old man gave Wang Liang and Zhou Kun two rooms on the first floor for them to stay in.
After telling them which rooms were theirs, the old man went out again. He did not seem afraid that Wang Liang and Zhou Kun would steal anything from his house; he simply left.
However, the old man did not go to the well from earlier, nor did he head to the cemetery to the north. He wandered off alone in another direction, and no one knew what he was up to.
After the old man left, in the room, Zhou Kun said to Wang Liang,
“Something is very wrong here. Anything related to burials and seventh-day rites is prone to trouble. If your source of information isn’t wrong, then the supernatural event that might occur here is definitely connected to the family holding the rites.”
“That’s obvious.”
Wang Liang walked to the window of the room, glanced at the strange village outside, then turned to Zhou Kun and said,
“The supernatural event here should erupt in a little over a day, on the day of the seventh-day rites. I’m staying here to wait for that day. If you leave now and don’t get involved, there’s still time.”
Zhou Kun rejected Wang Liang’s suggestion without hesitation.
“What kind of talk is that? Since we’ve encountered a supernatural event, we have to resolve it. Besides, this place can be considered my jurisdiction. You, the person in charge of Da’an City, haven’t left, so how could I? If anything, the person who should be responsible for the people in this village is me.”
“Is that so? People like you really are somewhat interesting.”
Wang Liang smiled and shook his head, then took out a one-inch photograph and flicked it over with his fingers.
Zhou Kun caught the drifting one-inch photo, glanced at the cold-faced Wang Liang in the picture, then looked up at the Wang Liang standing in reality.
“What does this mean?”
“It would be a pity if someone like you died. Zhou Zheng and I have fought side by side against a fierce ghost before. I’m giving you a photo. Perhaps it can save your life at a critical moment.”
Listening to Wang Liang’s words, Zhou Kun looked thoughtfully at the one-inch photo in his hand.
“Can you release supernatural power through a photograph?”
“You’ll know when the time comes.”
“Then what do we do now?”
Before he realized it, Zhou Kun had already begun to take Wang Liang’s opinion as the lead.
Wang Liang narrowed his eyes and looked to the north.
“First, let’s go see how they’re preparing for the seventh-day rites. For nearly an entire village to go—”
Wang Liang and Zhou Kun arrived at the cemetery north of the village, the place where nearly all the young and able-bodied villagers had come to make preparations for the rites.
As they drew closer, Wang Liang saw dozens of villagers, old and young, scattered throughout the cemetery and moving about.
Some of the adults were building a platform and arranging wreaths.
Some were cooking in large pots, preparing food for everyone. Moreover, what they were making was not only food for the living, but also food for the dead treated with preservatives.
As for the others, even those who had nothing to do did not return home. Instead, they moved over a few chairs and sat to the side, gathering to chat. They laughed and talked among themselves, and there did not seem to be much of a sorrowful atmosphere.
A group of children were playing around the cemetery without restraint, throwing pebbles at one another, dodging as they shrieked strangely, as if simulating a battle.
A band beating gongs and drums was playing funeral music off to the side. The mournful sound of the suona grew increasingly piercing in Wang Liang’s ears.
Wang Liang and Zhou Kun did not go over. They stood on a small slope in the distance, sizing up the group of people and trying to find the members of Old Li’s family that the hunchbacked old man had mentioned—the family of the central figure in this funeral.
Although he did not know them, after looking around, Wang Liang felt that the couple standing before a tombstone seemed most likely to be the people he was looking for.
Because judging from the position and the arrangements around it, that rather new tombstone should be the marker for where Old Li’s daughter had been buried.
And compared to the others around them, the two people standing in front of the tombstone also seemed somewhat out of place. Their faces carried an unresolvable gloom, their gazes fixed on the photograph on the tombstone, and from time to time they spoke to each other about something.
The grave behind the tombstone had already been piled up, forming a small mound of earth. Clearly, the burial had already taken place.
This was somewhat different from what Wang Liang had expected. This family did not seem to follow the custom of keeping the body in a mourning hall for the first seven days after death and only burying it after the seventh-day rites. They had buried her early.
Wang Liang and Zhou Kun stood there. Several villagers had already noticed them, but no one came over to greet them or ask who they were. After glancing at them a few times, they treated the two as if they did not exist and continued busying themselves with their own matters.
However, Wang Liang felt that the villagers who noticed them looked at them rather strangely. It did not feel like the normal surprise or curiosity one would have upon seeing strangers in the village. Their gazes carried a peculiar feeling that made one somewhat uncomfortable.
“Should we go over?” Zhou Kun asked in a low voice.
“No. We’re going back.”
“Huh?”
Wang Liang turned and left, as if he had made some kind of decision. Zhou Kun hurriedly followed.
However, after they left the cemetery area, Zhou Kun discovered that Wang Liang did not immediately return, but instead began strolling through the village.
So that’s it. He’s first getting a clear grasp of the terrain so it’ll be easier to act later?
Zhou Kun felt that he understood Wang Liang’s behavior. In the past, when he handled matters, he had always been too direct. When he encountered a supernatural event, he would simply charge straight in, dealing with it according to the principle of: if he could beat it, imprison it; if he could not, die in the line of duty.
But when encountering this kind of incident, one with hidden dangers that had yet to erupt, he was somewhat at a loss on where to begin.
He had learned something.
Zhou Kun began paying attention to the roads they walked, the houses by the roadside, and drew a map of the village in his mind.
Only after they had walked through all the crisscrossing dirt roads of the village did the two of them return to the hunchbacked old man’s house.