49: Is he truly dead?

At that moment, all I hoped for was that the runes on the coffin lid hadn’t been there during the burial.

“They were there at the burial,” my uncle’s voice followed immediately, and after a brief pause, he confirmed, “Those runes were indeed present when we buried him. I remember we even asked why they were on the coffin, and Sister Chen said they must serve a purpose.”

Was it truly Grandmother who turned my father into a revenant?

I found it hard to accept this outcome and couldn’t help but ask, “Uncle, are you absolutely certain those runes were there during the burial?”

He nodded again, his certainty unwavering. Perhaps sensing my refusal to accept the truth, Xu Buhuo placed a comforting hand on my shoulder and said, “Don’t lose hope yet. The coffin’s not open. There’s still a chance.”

Whatever hope remained was inside the coffin. At this point, I knew there was nothing more I could do but step back and let events unfold. I took a deep breath and nodded, stepping aside as Xu Buhuo directed the others to open the coffin.

Soon, the lid was lifted.

Inside, there was no body, not even bones. Seeing this, a suffocating blockage rose in my chest, making it hard to breathe. I understood now that the revenant I’d encountered was, without doubt, my father—and that it had been Grandmother who turned him into such a creature.

Why would she do such a thing?

I could not fathom how the gentle grandmother I knew could commit so cruel an act, turning her own son into a merciless killer.

The villagers who had come to watch saw the empty coffin and began to whisper among themselves, wondering where my father’s body could have gone.

Xu Buhuo frowned deeply. I could see he was just as troubled as I was, unable to comprehend why Grandmother would turn her own son into a revenant. Such a method was terrifying to contemplate.

After a while, my emotions settled somewhat. Even though I still didn’t want to believe it, the fact that my father had become a revenant was undeniable. I asked a few of my uncles to close the coffin lid.

“Wait,” Xu Buhuo suddenly called out. He jumped into the coffin and pulled out a folded, yellowed piece of paper from beneath the cloth lining the bottom.

The paper was old and creased, clearly placed there at the time of burial. He unfolded it, and I hurried closer. At the top, it began with my childhood name: Ziwu.

“Ziwu, if you are reading this letter, fate has run its course. You must have encountered the revenant. I want you to know: he is indeed your father. Turning him into a revenant was my last resort. But to resolve everything, this was the only way. Please, do not blame me. Though a revenant is frightening, I will not let him become a heartless monster. He will not harm you or your mother. But if anyone tries to hurt you both, he will show no mercy.”

That was all the letter said. From the handwriting, I was certain it was Grandmother’s, and the age of the paper confirmed she had prepared everything at the time of my father’s burial.

She had foreseen that someday we would exhume my father’s grave to confirm if he had become a revenant, and she’d left this letter inside the coffin so I would know the truth.

“Old man, do you think this letter was put there later?” I asked. With all the strange things happening, I doubted everything—perhaps someone had forged her handwriting to deceive me.

Xu Buhuo didn’t answer immediately. He brought the letter to his nose and sniffed it, then even licked it with his tongue before saying, “This letter is over ten years old. Without a doubt, your grandmother left it.”

With Grandmother’s abilities, it would have been easy to foresee that we would one day open the coffin.

Given the revenant never harmed me during either encounter, I was almost certain the letter spoke the truth. My father, now a revenant, retained some intelligence, at least enough not to harm me or my mother. In fact, he often lingered around the house, as if to protect us.

Yet I couldn’t understand why Old Man Qin had been torn apart by the revenant. Grandmother had said he wouldn’t harm innocents—so why had he killed Old Man Qin, who’d been trying to protect me?

“Seal the coffin,” Xu Buhuo said, handing the letter to me and instructing the others to replace the lid.

On the way down the mountain, Xu Buhuo looked troubled. He told me that since we now knew the revenant was my father, we could try to trap him the next time he appeared.

But what to do with him once he was caught was a difficult problem.

At first, believing the revenant dangerous, our plan was to kill him. But now, with Grandmother’s letter, I was at a loss. Clearly, Grandmother had foreseen the dangers I’d face after her death, which is why she turned my father into a revenant—to protect my mother and me.

The revenant I’d once feared had now become our guardian. If we trapped him, should we destroy him, or let things be?

Grandmother’s desperate act showed she didn’t even know who the real threat was, only that he was dangerous enough to force her to plan years in advance.

Xu Buhuo left the decision to me.

I was torn. Should I let my father sleep forever, rendering Grandmother’s efforts in vain? Upon reflection, aside from killing Old Man Qin, the revenant had never harmed any villagers, just as Grandmother said he wouldn’t kill indiscriminately.

Given there was still an unknown enemy lurking in the shadows, and that even Xu Buhuo was no match for him, I decided not to act against the revenant for now.

He posed no danger and could protect my mother in my absence. Xu Buhuo was usually with me, so my safety was assured, but my mother, a frail woman, was often alone. The enemy targeting me might one day go after her.

With my father as a revenant, he could protect her when I was away.

I explained my thoughts to Xu Buhuo, who said nothing more, only agreeing that, for now, we wouldn’t plan to deal with the revenant.

When I returned home, my mother anxiously asked what had happened.

Hiding the truth would only increase her fear, so I steeled myself and told her everything—that Grandmother had turned Father into a revenant. She broke down in tears.

I warned her that if the revenant appeared while Xu Buhuo and I were away, she shouldn’t panic, but neither should she approach him, just in case something changed.

A corpse is still a corpse; despite Grandmother’s precautions, there was no telling what might happen.

After leaving Cao Guangshan at home to keep an eye on Uncle Zhongfu and the others, Xu Buhuo and I set out to speak with the two uncles in the village whom we suspected, hoping to uncover which one wished me harm.

We first visited Old Man Zhang, who was feeding chickens in his yard and seemed surprised by our arrival.

I had prepared my approach in advance: I’d say that the recent events in the village, related to my family, had brought trouble to everyone, and I hoped for his understanding and forgiveness.

I did most of the talking with Old Man Zhang while Xu Buhuo observed, occasionally finding reasons to walk around the yard. After making a circuit, he returned and subtly shook his head, signaling he’d found nothing. I took my leave.

Of the three suspects, Old Man Qin was dead, Old Man Zhang was cleared, leaving only Old Man Wu, who suffered from dementia.

At Old Man Wu’s house, he lay in bed, unresponsive to our questions. Xu Buhuo shook his head. I knew from his look that he’d found nothing, but I couldn’t help but ask as soon as we left, “So, it’s none of them?”

“No. If it were, I’d have sensed it as soon as I entered.” Xu Buhuo gazed at Old Man Wu’s house and added, “Especially the feng shui of this house—it’s terrible. His illness is related to it. Since feng shui isn’t something that takes effect overnight, and the layout dates back more than a decade, if he were the culprit, the house wouldn’t be like this.”

With all three suspects ruled out, I wondered if my earlier analysis had been wrong. Perhaps the true culprit was someone I’d overlooked.

“By the way, didn’t you say there were three people? Who was the third?” Xu Buhuo suddenly asked.

“No need to check—he’s already dead.”

“Who?” Xu Buhuo pressed.

“Old Man Qin.”

I didn’t understand the look in his eyes; it had been a long time since I’d seen it. I added, “He’s dead. He can’t be the culprit.”

Xu Buhuo didn’t reply, but stared at the ground, deep in thought. I stood by, bored, pondering who else I might have overlooked.

“Ziwu, what if Old Man Qin faked his death?” Xu Buhuo suddenly said.

I asked instinctively, “Why do you think that?”

“You said he was a suspect, but just because he’s dead doesn’t mean he’s innocent. You know what people like us are capable of. And that night—did you examine the corpse closely? There were hands and feet, but I remember clearly, the head wasn’t among the remains.”

Clearly, Xu Buhuo was beginning to suspect Old Man Qin again. Remembering how Old Man Qin had been torn apart by my father while protecting me, I insisted, “Impossible. He’s dead.”

Xu Buhuo sneered, “Dead? Did you see his body being torn apart? Did you see him die with your own eyes?”

His questioning eroded my certainty, and I couldn’t help but ask myself: Was he really dead?