The Haunted Farmhouse (Part One)

When my business in the Netherworld was concluded, I bid farewell to the City God and, without realizing it, found myself standing upon the Bridge of Yin and Yang over the River of Yin and Yang. The wind by the river wailed mournfully, the cries of the wronged echoing to the heavens. The vengeful spirits and lonely ghosts confronting me were all those whom I had exposed as criminals driven by greed.

Each face was twisted in fury, their eyes brimming with malice as they glared at me. With my task complete, the Bodhisattva’s protection faded, and the malicious spirits closed in, intent on pushing me into the river to avenge themselves.

Alas, what was I to do? I, Xie Lingling, was left alone, confronted by these ferocious fiends, powerless to fight or reason with them. All I could do was resign myself to fate. Closing my eyes, despair settling over me, I awaited the inevitable.

Suddenly, a cacophony of savage dogs barking sent the spirits scurrying away. A pack of snarling, mangy hounds, as ravenous as wolves, turned their fierce gazes toward me.

They bared their teeth and glared, as if they would devour me whole. Even leaping into the river seemed preferable to being torn apart by them. With a heavy sigh, I threw myself into the blood-red River of Yin and Yang.

A scream tore from my throat as I plunged headlong into the crimson waters. Snakes, scorpions, and bone-piercing fish stared with cold eyes, drawing me into their depths.

With a cry, I awoke to find my parents standing over me, tears of relief and joy shimmering in their eyes. “Daughter, you’re finally awake. You frightened us half to death,” my father said, lighting three sticks of incense and placing them in the shrine atop the cabinet.

“Fox Immortal, thank you for saving our daughter’s life once again. I, Xie Ma, bow in gratitude,” my father declared, kneeling and pressing his forehead to the Fox Immortal’s spirit tablet.

To my father, my awakening was a return from the brink; to me, it was waking from a long and harrowing nightmare.

But that ordeal taught me a lesson: only by doing good does one receive good in return. Those who commit evil will find no escape from retribution, even in the underworld.

“Dear child, you’ve been unconscious for six or seven days. You must be starving. Come, eat something. Don’t harm your health by going hungry,” my mother said, bringing in a bowl of egg noodles.

Egg noodles? Could these be maggots in disguise? The memory of the food served by the underworld’s minions made me nauseous. I doubled over on the heated brick bed and began to retch, only to see streams of crimson blood pour from my mouth.

“Daughter, don’t frighten your mother! My heart can’t take it. What’s wrong with you?” my mother cried, holding me close, her tears warming me like sunlight.

“Mother, I’m all right. Don’t worry. Once I’ve expelled this, I’ll be fine. I won’t die,” I reassured her, her tears cool on my face. Yet I was bewildered—if it was only a dream, why was I vomiting the blood of the River of Yin and Yang?

My parents said I had slept six or seven days, the divine light protecting me. But this was my secret, one I would tell no one. That night, unable to sleep, I lay on the kang, gazing at the stars.

“Xie Lingling, I am your elder sister. Do you remember me?” A green light shimmered before my eyes. The woman who appeared was none other than Widow Tian, the ghost killed by Zheng De.

Her appearance had changed, resembling her living self. Behind her stood several unfamiliar figures, both men and women, all smiling gently at me.

“It’s thanks to you that we can be reborn. Though we shall live again, we’ll never see you again. We came only to thank you; your kindness will be repaid in another life.”

They smiled at me as they spoke. “It’s a good thing that you can be reborn. There’s no need to thank me; I only did what was right. As long as your grievances are resolved, I am at peace.” They waved farewell and turned into green light, flying out the window.

Their appearance confirmed for me that this was no dream, but reality. I had entered the Netherworld and, with the City God, rid it of evil. I felt a surge of joy, but just as I was celebrating, the Fox Immortal doused me with a bucket of cold water.

“Xie Lingling, don’t be so pleased. If you wish to survive, your next destination is ten times more terrifying than the Netherworld.” “You’re not me. I only went because I was doing your work,” I protested, sitting up in alarm.

“Heh, yes, I said that. But what I meant is, if you break your word, you’ll never return from that terrifying place. If you keep your promise, you’ll come back,” the Fox Immortal explained, calming my heart.

She looked as usual—half her hair black, half white, leaning on a staff that glimmered with white light. She smiled, “In three days you’ll begin your work as my emissary, reading incense. Before then, you must do something for me.” “What is it?” I asked, alarmed.

“There’s a man named Tian Dabao at the east end of your village. His family just had a baby boy, four or five days old. The child cries every night. Tomorrow you must visit them—first, to bring a gift for the newborn, and second, to expel the evil spirit haunting the child.”

“An evil spirit?” The words sent a chill through me, and I frowned under the Fox Immortal’s stern gaze.

“Ah, Immortal, you know what kind of person I am. I’m just a weak woman, with neither strength nor magic—how could I drive out an evil spirit?” She sighed and shook her head.

“You don’t have the ability, but I can give it to you. I’m about to take up my post; I must go to the immortal realm. Here, two things for you: this mirror reveals the spirit’s traces, and this coin will banish it.”

With that, she produced two objects glowing with white light and placed them atop my quilt.

My head ached as if I were drunk, my mind clouded. Within the bedding, I dimly saw the two objects. Was this a dream, or reality?

I stared at the mirror and the small peachwood sword, pondering. The crowing of roosters interrupted my thoughts—the dawn had come, and I still had the Fox Immortal’s task before me. Dressing quickly, I gazed at the brightening sky.

“Daughter, eat a little. You haven’t eaten in seven days—come, have some rice and pickles.” My mother set fragrant rice and preserved vegetables before me. I savored every bite.

“Mother, may I ask—Tian Dabao, my eldest brother, just had a baby, right? A son?” My mother looked surprised.

“How did you know? When they had the baby, you were in bed! Some said your soul went to be reborn in Dabao’s wife’s belly—could that be true?”

I laughed and shook my head. “Mother, give me fifty yuan, will you? I’ll buy some formula and pay a visit...” My mother hesitated.

“Child, maybe you shouldn’t go...” “Why, mother? Are you and brother’s family on bad terms?” She shook her head, murmuring, “They say your presence brings ill luck...”

“How could that be? I’m only doing what’s right for us all.” My mother grew confused, but reluctantly handed me fifty yuan.

Tian Dabao’s house was east of our village, with a patch of empty land behind it, overgrown with weeds. It was once a burial ground, but whose graves they were, no one knew.

Because he had two sons, and a brother, the land was divided, and he built a house here with his wife. Behind the house stood a dense mulberry tree, so lush it was unsettling.

Their home was newly built, quite grand—red tiles, red bricks, shining glass windows, the façade clad in gleaming ceramic, the courtyard paved with white cement bricks. Such a house and yard filled me with envy.

“Big Brother Dabao, are you home?” I called at the gate. A large black dog barked ferociously, reminding me of the hellhounds of the Netherworld, making me shiver and take two steps back.

“Who’s there?” A young woman emerged, strikingly beautiful, with fair skin, large eyes, a high nose, and a cherry-like mouth—she looked like a figure from a painting.

“Oh, Lingling, you’re well again?” This was Wang Xiaochun, Dabao’s wife. I smiled at her.

“Sister-in-law, it’s a misunderstanding—I wasn’t sick, just fell off my bike and got hurt.” She laughed.

“Listen to you, so dramatic! People said you lost your soul. Come in, come in.” She ushered me inside.

The house was spotless—her handiwork, no doubt. Everything was neatly arranged, refreshing to behold.

Such a clean house shouldn’t be haunted. What was going on? As I looked around, my mind raced. A stout man sat on the kang, brow furrowed, watching the sleeping baby.

“Brother Dabao, Sister-in-law, I heard you had a precious son. I couldn’t come before because I was unwell. Here, it’s not much, but please accept this formula and these eggs.” I placed the gifts on the kang.

As I listened to the baby’s cries, I seemed to hear a strange, chilling laughter. I took out the mirror and turned it toward the sound—and what I saw made my face go pale.