Chapter 130: The Gao Family Blows Up the Grave

To my surprise, a large crowd had actually arrived, led by Cha Wenbin. They were all from the village below, brandishing various makeshift weapons: sticks, hoes, and pitchforks. Only then did I learn that the village below was in an absolute frenzy.

That evening, the three brothers of Gao Cheng were observing his "first seventh"—the seventh day after death. Many people had gathered at his home—those who had helped out recently, the pallbearers, and various relatives, totaling three or four tables. Halfway through dinner, someone realized that Gao Cheng’s daughter, my classmate Gao Caifeng, was missing.

There are specific customs regarding the "first seventh" meal. In ordinary households, dinner is usually around six o'clock; in rural areas, it is slightly earlier, often at five, or even four if a feast is being held. However, the first seventh is different. Two meals are served that day. The first is the banquet meal; Gao Cheng’s family had started it at four, and the guests had dispersed by five. The people who remained for the vigil were immediate family—those within the five degrees of mourning—filling two tables. They still had work to do, and after eating, they had to prepare the second meal.

The second meal is usually served around eleven at night and must be finished before midnight. Those present are there to keep watch. The empty table set with wine and food is meant for the guest of honor—the deceased. In rural tradition, it is believed the dead return on this night to see if they have any lingering wishes, lest they cry out in the underworld. They are accompanied by underworld officials; this is the "return of the soul."

On this night, after the relatives finish dinner, they must extinguish all lights and fires and hide in one room. In old rural houses, there is a skylight—a translucent tile on the roof—that must be removed, with a bamboo pole or ladder placed there to guide the spirit home. Why? Because the door gods at the main entrance would never allow an unclean spirit to enter.

Usually, three bowls and sets of chopsticks are placed on the table—one at the head, and two on the sides for the accompanying underworld officials. The food consists of three meat dishes and three vegetable dishes. The eggs must be half-cooked, and the rice must be undercooked, served upside down in the bowl—this is known as "inverted head rice." Wine is also provided, and in more formal settings, a large pig's head is placed in the center of the table with incense sticks inserted into it; this is the only source of light in the room.

The timing of the spirit's return is calculated by a specialist. How deep into the underworld the soul went, how long it takes to return, and how long it can stay—all these have strict rules. There is only one requirement: during the return, no one must be in the central hall. Family members cannot go out; they can hide in side rooms, but never in the room the deceased occupied while alive. No laughing, no talking, no using the latrine. In short, stay silent and crouch down until the time has passed and the lights can be turned on. Otherwise, something bad could happen at any moment.

Gao Caifeng had disappeared during this second meal. Around eleven, when the family had set the two tables, tradition dictated that the children of the deceased kneel to thank the relatives and offer incense to their late father. It was more of a ritual than a meal, but the most important person was missing—how could it proceed?

Someone suggested she might have gone up the mountain to find her father. Gao Caifeng and her father had been close, so everyone thought it possible and set off to search. Gao Cheng’s grave was not far from home, just ten minutes away in a tea field behind their house.

Four or five relatives went, shining their flashlights. From a distance, they saw something strange near the grave—it looked like someone lying there. They rushed over and found Gao Caifeng sprawled on the path about ten meters away. They checked her pulse; she was alive, likely just fainted.

As they debated how to carry her back, her second uncle swept his flashlight over the grave and let out a blood-curdling scream.

"Oh my god! Look! It's blown open!"

What had happened? Gao Cheng’s grave had exploded! Quilts, clothes, and burial goods were scattered everywhere. The grave had been temporarily sealed with cement, which hadn't fully dried yet, forming a round mound with a tombstone in front. The tombstone had fallen, and the grave had collapsed from the top, looking as if it had been hit by a bomb. It was a complete disaster.

Because there were many of them, they were safer, but if there had been fewer, they might have suffered the same fate as Gao Caifeng. They gathered their courage to inspect it; the coffin lid had been pried open, and it was completely empty.

In such a situation, there were only two possibilities: either the grave had been robbed, or the corpse had risen. Gao Cheng was a simple farmer with no money, and his burial goods were cheap plastic trinkets from a convenience store. He had no enemies, so grave robbing was unlikely. Besides, in a rural village, this was a grave matter; no one would want to invite such bad luck. It was said that on the way down, everyone’s legs were shaking, and the second uncle even wet his pants. That wasn't shameful; I might have ended up the same way.

With the whole Gao family gathered, they were in a panic. What could they do if a corpse just vanished into thin air? Could the dead really crawl out on their own? Just as things were in chaos, Cha Wenbin arrived. He had warned them earlier not to bury the body, but no one listened, and he had nearly been beaten for it. Now that he was here, everyone turned to him—finally, someone who knew what they were doing.

Cha Wenbin didn't come to the Gao house in the middle of the night for a midnight snack. Looking at the chaotic scene, he secretly thought, "This is bad. I'm afraid I'm too late."

After a quick briefing, Cha Wenbin checked Gao Caifeng. A distinct black bruise was visible on her neck—no one had noticed it before.

They rushed to save her, laying her on a bed. Breathing was shallow, heart still beating, pupils normal. Cha Wenbin was uncertain. With that much force, her throat should have been crushed; how was she still alive?

Gao Cheng’s wife was wailing on the ground, and even two other women couldn't hold her back. She was hysterical, cursing and screaming about how the "old wretch" was trying to take their daughter with him. No one could calm her down. Suddenly, Cha Wenbin walked over and slapped her twice, sharp and loud. The whole room went silent, stunned.

"If he hadn't held back, your family would be holding another funeral tonight. I told you not to bury him, but you insisted. He still remembered it was his daughter, so he let go halfway. Now, stop the chaos. Leave two people here to watch, and everyone else go find him. Harming his own daughter is a sin, but if he hurts someone else, you'll be the ones to face the consequences!"

Cha Wenbin’s words made it clear: Gao Cheng had indeed risen. Usually, a risen corpse knows no kin, yet he had spared Gao Caifeng. This meant he hadn't fully "formed" yet. Cha Wenbin was determined to find him tonight.

Corpses have a scent—a stench similar to rotting pork. If the body is lost, the scent fades. A Taoist’s sensitivity to these smells, especially the scent of death, is far beyond that of an ordinary person. Cha Wenbin could track the scent of Gao Cheng. Combined with his compass, tracking a fresh corpse wasn't difficult. He tracked it all the way to me. Seeing me sitting there, dazed and shell-shocked, he held a small bottle under my nose.

The scent was like mustard. I sneezed, instantly snapping back to reality. Seeing him, I nearly burst into tears. I wanted to drag him across the floor and beat him for sending me to that temple.

"Are you even human? You sent me to my death while you showed up with a whole army! I'm telling you, I almost died in that temple tonight!"

Cha Wenbin had never seen me lose my composure like that. He was anxious, not knowing what had happened. "Did you run into Gao Cheng? Where is he?"

I pointed inside. "In there. He even took my dog with him! I'm not done with you, Cha Wenbin! If it weren't for that dog, I'd be dead. I'm going to burn that temple down tomorrow and be done with it!" I was so angry; the injustice flooded out.

Cha Wenbin pulled back my shoulder and signaled for the Gao family to look. Everyone gasped.

"It looks just like the mark on Caifeng's neck!"

As soon as that was said, I saw the men lower their heads. Who doesn't value their own life? These relatives were only here because they were forced. They saw me holding a gun and still ending up like this—how could they go in there with their primitive tools?

A cousin of the Gao family, a large man who looked like a gangster with a leather jacket, stepped forward. "Little Cha, how about we call the police? I know the guys at the station. Let them handle it tomorrow? It’s late, and we’ve been through enough. He’s hiding in the temple, so why don't we just retreat?"