Chapter 28: The Rooster’s Crow at the Funeral

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Caught in a ghostly maze.

To escape, one must either know the method to break it, or wait until dawn when it naturally dissipates. This was something I once heard my grandmother mention. In the silence, the memory of her plan to hold the funeral rites at midnight surfaced. If Xu Buhuo was setting something up and I couldn’t get out, wouldn’t I miss saying my final farewell to her?

Tears slipped down, betraying me. From birth until now, I’d never felt so helpless, so powerless. The cold all around forced me to curl up, trying to shrink myself into a tight ball, feeling only then a bit of comfort.

A wave of irresistible drowsiness swept over me without warning. In a haze, I heard footsteps. I looked up and saw someone approaching from the old house, flashlight in hand. I dared not give up, still hoping to catch his attention, but when I tried to move, I found my limbs numb.

The figure drew nearer. Just as I opened my mouth to call out, I saw clearly who it was and swallowed my voice in terror.

The one with the flashlight was the very person I feared—Xu Buhuo.

He seemed to be searching for me. Watching him, I wanted to speak, yet an instinct told me he was dangerous; not to go out, not to let him discover me.

But reality rarely follows our wishes. Xu Buhuo passed by just three meters away, then suddenly stopped with a quiet grunt. His flashlight swept around, as if he’d sensed me.

Soon, he began walking the Nine Palace steps, and in no time, the beam of his flashlight landed on me.

“Ziwu? What are you doing here?” Xu Buhuo pulled me up from the ground. Though his tone brimmed with concern, I instinctively tried to keep away, but my numb legs wouldn’t obey.

“I was wondering why you hadn’t returned—turns out you were caught in a ghostly maze.”

Seeing my numb legs, Xu Buhuo hoisted me onto his back, walked the Nine Palace steps, and within moments, the chill around me eased, my breathing grew smooth—I knew I’d escaped the maze.

On the way, he asked what happened, why my head was bleeding. I calmly replied I’d fallen.

Knowing all this was orchestrated by the very man carrying me, yet powerless to resist, I returned to the old house. My mother saw the blood on my face and nearly burst into tears.

She insisted on cleaning my wound and applying medicine, but seeing there was only a minute left before midnight, I remembered Grandfather Qin’s instructions: the ritual circle on the ground must be destroyed before the coffin was lifted. Struggling, I made my way to the coffin, tried to scrub away the blood with my foot, but it wouldn’t budge. I went out to find a knife. The six uncles preparing to carry the coffin watched me with curious faces.

Just reaching the door with the knife, Xu Buhuo blocked my way. “What are you doing with that knife?”

His gaze was chilling.

I replied, “Nothing,” and tried to slip past him. But as soon as I entered, my hand suddenly emptied—the knife snatched away. Xu Buhuo threw it outside. “Did that old man tell you to destroy the ritual on the ground?”

I said nothing, staring at Xu Buhuo. His expression was calm, but I sensed anxiety beneath the surface.

“You trust him, not me?” Xu Buhuo was visibly annoyed.

Silently, I thought: Keep pretending, let’s see how long you can keep it up. Turning to the coffin, I prepared to scratch the ritual circle away with my bare hands, but as I crouched down, Xu Buhuo’s low command rang out: “Lift the coffin.”

The six uncles, already waiting, stood up and took the prepared poles. My mother brought the ritual rooster and placed it atop the coffin.

I stood there, watching as my grandmother’s coffin was carried outside.

“You’re not coming?” Xu Buhuo turned to look at me.

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Staring at my grandmother’s coffin, I drew a weary breath, knowing the outcome was set. Since I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t neglect her final journey. I picked up her memorial portrait and walked to the head of the coffin.

Once outside the courtyard, the coffin was placed on a cart. Xu Buhuo led the way, holding three sticks of yellow incense. I followed, cradling the portrait.

“The departed are on their way, the living step aside.” Xu Buhuo chanted, scattering yellow paper from his pouch.

The cart’s wheels creaked ominously in the night. Glancing around, I wondered if the corpse demon lured away by Grandfather Qin might appear and hinder our funeral procession.

The closer we drew to the burial ground, the more tense I became, feeling as if something would happen.

Yet, when we arrived at the burial site, I realized it was just my nerves.

Nothing happened along the way.

Under the moonlight, Xu Buhuo quickly marked the grave’s spot. The six uncles, knowing time was short, hurried to dig. I stood guard beside my grandmother’s coffin.

During my absence, the coffin had been marked with grids of chicken blood, reminiscent of a film where Master Lin used chicken blood to bind a vampire.

Could my grandmother transform into a corpse demon?

Xu Buhuo suddenly approached, staring at me. “Ziwu, I don’t know what you and the old man talked about. I know you doubt my identity and intentions, but this is a critical moment. I seriously tell you, everything I’m doing now is what I owe your grandmother. Whether you believe me or not, once all this is resolved, I’ll give you the explanation you want.”

I hadn’t expected Xu Buhuo to speak to me so frankly. Clearly, he knew I had learned some things. I replied, “But it was my grandmother who asked for the Feng Shui master from West Mountain Village—Mr. Xu—not you.”

“Heh…”

Xu Buhuo sneered, his tone tinged with anger. “How can you be sure there’s only one Mr. Xu in West Mountain Village? How do you know that I’m not the one your grandmother wanted?”

I’d anticipated this argument, so I said nothing.

“At this point, all I can tell you is that old man is nothing like he appears. After thinking it over, I believe your grandmother’s sudden death is connected to him, and the matter with Village Chief Liu is likely related, too.”

“Heh…”

Unable to help myself, I responded with a cold laugh.

“I’m telling you, I am Mr. Xu—genuine and true. Once these matters are settled, I’ll give you a reasonable explanation.”

Though Xu Buhuo sounded sincere, I knew I couldn’t be so foolish as before, swayed by a few kind words. As my grandmother said in life, I’d grown up and must form my own opinions, learn to distinguish truth.

Xu Buhuo kept staring at me, as if he wouldn’t stop until I believed him. Irritated, I said, “If you want to explain, do it now. If you can make everything clear, I’ll trust you.”

“Now is not the time. It’s not that I don’t want to explain; your grandmother didn’t want me to. Some secrets must wait—these are your family’s secrets.”

With that, Xu Buhuo went to help. I stood by the coffin, watching him work, weighing his evasions, feeling both confused and troubled.

My grandmother’s secrets? My family’s secrets? I couldn’t fathom what Xu Buhuo meant.

My heart softened, despite having warned myself not to listen to whatever Xu Buhuo said. Now, his words unsettled me again.

Forty minutes later, the grave was dug. The uncles carefully lowered my grandmother’s coffin into it.

The ritual rooster still perched atop the coffin. As the coffin touched the bottom, the rooster, silent until now, suddenly let out a loud, harsh cry.

The sound was abrupt, startling me and sending the uncles scrambling away in fright.

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At that moment, a rooster’s crow echoed from the village at the foot of the mountain—a single rooster calling out.

It seemed as if every rooster in the village joined in.

Thud!

Before we could recover, the ritual rooster, which had stood tall and shrieked atop the coffin only a second before, suddenly collapsed limply onto the coffin.

Dead.

The ritual rooster died instantly.

Strangely, as the ritual rooster died, all the rooster calls in the village ceased in that very instant.

The silence was eerie.

In the depths of night, I couldn’t fathom why the village roosters crowed. It felt as if they were sending my grandmother off.

Xu Buhuo was the first to regain his composure. He hurriedly lit three sticks of incense, knelt before my grandmother’s grave, and whispered, “Sister Chen, may you journey well. The tasks you entrusted to me, I’ll fulfill even if it costs me my life.”

The words struck my heart hard.

The uncles, still shaken, trembling, lit incense to honor my grandmother. I did the same, bowing nine times, then covering the grave with earth.

The stone was placed atop the grave, and the time was exactly one o’clock.

After so many days of strange events, my grandmother was finally laid to rest, and the anxiety in my heart soothed at last.

The uncles packed up. Xu Buhuo stood before the grave, lost in thought. I couldn’t help but ask, “What, did things turn out differently than you planned?”

My words carried a hint of sarcasm.

That’s human nature; when you have a grudge, even a silent adversary feels irritating. I suppose that’s how I now viewed Xu Buhuo.

“Don’t you feel this whole process was too quiet?”

I was about to say that quiet was good, but Xu Buhuo continued, “Based on my calculations, tonight should have been the most dangerous, so I made many preparations. Yet none were needed. Your grandmother was buried without incident—something feels off.”

Quiet was what I wanted; I ignored Xu Buhuo and turned to leave. He followed beside me, fingers busy as if calculating something.

Though discomfort lingered, thinking of the events that happened, the chains and ropes soaked in chicken blood, and the unused preparations, I realized things indeed hadn’t gone as Xu Buhuo expected.

On reflection, I tried to comfort myself that nothing happened, yet couldn’t shake the sense that something was wrong. I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but anxiety gnawed at me, as if a major event loomed.

As we neared the edge of the burial ground, I suddenly sensed someone watching me. Instinctively, I turned. In the gloom, I glimpsed a shadow flicker beside my grandmother’s grave. I raised the flashlight toward the mountain, but saw nothing.

Xu Buhuo also paused, gazing at the grave for a few seconds before turning to continue down the mountain. I pondered that strange feeling, wondering if it was just my imagination.

Entering the village, I heard commotion from the old house. Looking up, I saw a crowd gathered at the door, my heart skipping a beat.

We had gone up the mountain for the funeral, leaving my mother alone in the old house.