Chapter 1, The Living Child in the Grave

When it comes to economic conditions, the Ding family can be considered the wealthiest in the village. At that time, they had already constructed four small buildings with multiple stories. The exterior walls were adorned with pristine white tiles, the roofs were covered with red glazed tiles, and the spacious cement yard in front attracted countless envious gazes.

However, while one sits at home, disaster may come from the sky. Just after the Winter Solstice, Ding's youngest son, Ding Ermiao, unexpectedly passed away.

As soon as the person spoke, Ding Zhiming detected the smell of smoke from his mouth. He immediately understood that this was not a ghost, but a living person

On that morning, with the help of the villagers, a small coffin was carried out the door. On the hillside three miles outside the village, a small earthen grave was added. This grave resembled a round period, marking the end of Ding Ermiao's brief life

On the morning of the second day, the Mu family in the village all came to offer their condolences. Everyone seemed to empathize with the grief of the Ding family, and each household presented two hundred yuan as a gesture of sympathy

Ding Zhiming's eyes were also filled with tears as he choked back his emotions and said, "I understand, I understand. I will make a lamp for Er Miao and send it over immediately..."

Upon arriving at Ermiao's grave, Ding Zhiming burned several sheets of paper, placed the bamboo pole lantern at the head of Ermiao's grave, and wept for quite some time, filled with deep sorrow

A figure stepped forward under the moonlight, standing two feet away from Ding Zhiming, staring at him and asking: "Do I look like a ghost to you?"

In the mountains of this region, there exists a custom. On the first night after a person is buried, a family member will bring a lamp and place it on the grave, serving as a guiding light on the road to the underworld

Ding Zhiming is not short of money, and his character is straightforward, so he does not wish to accept the condolence money from his fellow villagers. However, the villagers are resolute in their attitude and insist that Ding Zhiming accept it

This incident dealt a significant blow to the Ding family. Ding Zhiming brought the child's body home, staying by his side, squatting on the ground and crying throughout the night. As for Mu Cuizhen, it goes without saying that she had already fainted from crying several times.

The person is approximately seventy years old, slender, with two tufts of mouse whiskers on the sides of his face. He has a backpack slung over his shoulder and is dressed in a bright yellow Daoist robe, complemented by a matching yellow Daoist hat, which features a pattern of the Yin-Yang fish from the Bagua.

There is only one family with a miscellaneous surname, which is the first household under the He Ti. This family is surnamed Ding

Ding Zhiming had prepared the guiding light, and it was already evening. He held the lamp in his hand, tears streaming down his face as he walked towards the southern hillside

Sigh... these matters, I will tell you again after some time. In short, Er Miao's death is fate, it is predestined. The old man sighed and continued, "Fate cannot be defied, let us bury the child..."

Such a scene made Ding Zhiming feel a bit uneasy. In the wilderness, he was also worried that a ghost might suddenly appear. After taking one last look at Er Miao's grave, Ding Zhiming wiped away his tears and turned to leave

Nonsense! The Taoist priest Sanpin was furious, turning his head and shouting: "Your son is not yet dead, and you have already buried him? What a heartless father!"

Due to the fact that the Ding family has been passed down for many generations, it finally flourished under Ding Zhiming, who has two sons. Therefore, this child was named Ermiao. This name also carries characteristics typically associated with girls. It is said that naming a baby with a girl's name makes them easier to raise

After burying Ermiao, Ding Zhiming stood in front of his home, staring blankly at the southern hillside. Just yesterday at this time, Ermiao was still lively and full of energy, but in the blink of an eye, they have already been separated by the realms of life and death

Only the old master Ding Yougui sighed to the heavens: "It is the will of heaven, the will of heaven!"

From the moment the bowl was shattered to the point of death, it was merely a matter of one or two hours

Ding Zhiming was so frightened that his legs trembled, and he hurriedly turned around to look. He saw a person emerge from the low pine forest a few steps away.

"You, you... are you human or ghost?" Ding Zhiming's voice trembled slightly. He had lived for over thirty years, yet he had never seen anyone dressed like this. Although this person looked exactly like the Taoist priests on television, there were no temples or Taoist monasteries in the Muban area. Ding Zhiming had no idea where this Taoist had come from.

Both parties engaged in a round of polite refusals, unable to reach a resolution

"Are you a Taoist priest?" Ding Zhiming asked hesitantly

My son Ding Ermiao, only seven years old, has already fallen ill and passed away

In the village, there are more than one hundred households, almost entirely of the Mu surname, sharing the same roots and lineage

This guiding lamp is made from slender bamboo poles. A bamboo pole approximately 1 zhang long is split at the front end, forming a circular opening the size of a bowl. A candle is then placed inside the circle, which is covered with red paper to create a trumpet-shaped lamp

The head of the household, Ding Zhiming, is an honest man in his thirties. The mistress, Mu Cuizhen, hails from this village. The couple has two sons, the elder being ten years old and the younger seven. Ding Zhiming's father, the old man Ding Yougui, is still alive at seventy years of age, neither deaf nor hunchbacked, and in good health. They live a prosperous life and have a harmonious family

However, when Ding Ermiao had just turned one year old, a passing fortune teller examined his face. The fortune teller remarked that Ding Ermiao's facial features were very peculiar, indicating that he was beset by numerous calamities. He stated that if Ding Ermiao did not cultivate in the Buddhist path, he would inevitably undergo trials in the Taoist realm. Otherwise, he would certainly not survive.

Ding Zhiming hurriedly took the child to the town hospital, where the doctor checked Er Miao's breathing and pulse with his hand, then slowly shook his head

Behind him, his wife Mu Cuizhen approached with red and swollen eyes, her voice hoarse as she said: "Child's father, look, it's about to get dark. You... you should send a lamp to the child. The southern hillside is filled with pine trees and weeds, and the child has just gone over there... it's pitch black at night, he... he must be scared."

The evening breeze rustles, causing the leaves to emit a mournful sound. In the distance, the crows cry out at night, cawing in a way that sends a chill down one's spine

Before she could finish her words, Mu Cuizhen began to cry out loud again

Ding Ermiao is only 7 years old and has not yet completed a semester of school. This child is beautiful, with thick eyebrows and big eyes, white teeth and red lips, and a rosy little face that looks like it has been molded. Compared to his dull older brother, the clever and lively Ding Ermiao is clearly more likable

Twelve years ago, in Jiangnan Ling Shan County, in a village called "Mu Pond" located downstream of the Crescent Moon River, a shocking and bizarre incident occurred

This remark greatly displeased Ding Zhiming, who almost immediately dismissed the fortune teller. ... However, he did not anticipate ...! ... In the end, Ding Ermiao's fate indeed turned out to be this way!

I am surnamed Qiu, and my full name is Qiu Sanpin. You may call me Daoist Sanpin. The Daoist nodded, circled around Ding Zhiming, and finally pointed at Ding Ermiao's grave, asking: "Who is buried in this grave?"

Old Master Ding called his son aside and sighed, saying: "Just accept it; if this money is not accepted, the entire Mu family in the village will not be at ease"

"What does this, this ... ... mean? Why are people feeling uneasy?" Ding Zhiming furrowed his brows, not understanding what his father meant.

Ding Zhiming is a filial son. Although he feels deep sorrow in his heart, he does not question the old man's words but instead listens to them and accepts the condolence money from the villagers.

The Mu Basin is located downstream of the Crescent River. When the villagers look up, they can see the high river embankment of the Crescent River half a mile to the west.

Ding Zhiming's body trembled, as if struck by lightning

But just at that moment, a deep voice suddenly called out from behind: "Stop...!"

The sky had long since turned completely dark. As it was the first half of the month, a half-moon had risen above the treetops, hanging in the sky. Moonlight spilled through the gaps in the leaves, casting a mottled light on the ground

On the evening of the second day after the Winter Solstice, Ding Ermiao held a bowl of rice in his hands, and before he could start eating, a sudden clatter sounded as the bowl fell to the ground. Ding Zhiming turned his head to look and saw Ding Ermiao rolling his eyes before collapsing to the ground, motionless