Chapter 40: Could Zhang Hao have been possessed by something unclean?

The funeral procession halted before the incense altar. After the rites and offerings were concluded, the group would proceed directly to the burial grounds. This brief pause was Zhang Hao’s final opportunity.

With that thought, Zhang Hao hesitated no longer. Regardless of the consequences—even if he were to be beaten—he had to obtain the widow’s tears. If he missed this chance, there was no telling when another might arise. The potential loss if he missed the fox wedding was simply too great.

He pushed through the crowd, raised his hand, and pinched his arm with all his might until tears welled up from the pain. Then, he quickened his pace toward the procession.

"Haozi! What—what are you doing? Come back!" Zhao Yuan’s voice echoed in his ears, but Zhang Hao had no intention of stopping. He shoved through the onlookers and broke into the funeral line.

"Oh, big brother, how could you leave us like this... my dear brother..."

Once inside the line, Zhang Hao threw himself toward the urn, wailing in a voice so gut-wrenching that it instantly drew everyone’s attention. The young woman holding the urn froze, staring at the stranger in stunned silence for a long moment. "Who are you?"

Zhang Hao did not cease his wailing; tears streamed from his eyes as if they were free. "I’ve been with my brother since we were little. When we grew up, he went out to make his way in the world, and I stayed back home waiting for him. I never imagined... I never imagined this is what I would be waiting for..."

"Oh, brother! How could you just leave us so suddenly..."

The young woman trembled uncontrollably. Tears welled up in her eyes, and unable to suppress her grief any longer, she burst into loud sobs. The mournful wailing rose above the funeral music, echoing in the confined space and tugging at the hearts of all present, as if even the heavens were moved by the display.

Seizing the moment, Zhang Hao used a handkerchief to mask the small vial meant for collecting tears. Pretending to wipe the young woman’s face, he scraped the moisture from her cheeks. After collecting enough, he finally stopped.

"Sister-in-law, please... please try to hold your grief. My brother’s spirit is in heaven, and he surely wouldn't want to see you like this." Zhang Hao’s wailing gradually subsided, though he still let out occasional sobs. The young woman was already beyond words, weeping uncontrollably.

"Lift the bier!"

At that moment, following a loud cry, the funeral procession began to move once more. Zhang Hao took the opportunity to slip away from the crowd and quickly returned to Zhao Yuan’s side. "Let's go. If they realize I'm a fraud, we're going to get a beating."

Zhao Yuan, still bewildered, nodded blankly and followed him as they fled the scene.

...

The journey back was silent. Upon returning to Zhao Village, Zhang Hao went home with his spoils. Entering the small courtyard, he saw Whitey, who had eaten his fill and was now sprawled out on the bluestone slabs, sunbathing with his belly exposed—a sight so endearing he felt the urge to reach out and stroke it. Looking toward the main hall, Li Siyu was nowhere to be found. She must have gone to work the fields.

Zhang Hao stifled a yawn. Wasting no time, he took the ten portions of scattered ashes and the widow’s tears directly to the side room. He placed everything into a tattered basket for safekeeping, ready to be retrieved when needed. With all preparations complete, he only needed to wait for the day of the fox wedding.

As he thought of this, his taut nerves finally began to loosen. With that relaxation, exhaustion washed over him. He had been up since the middle of the night and had barely slept, so it was no wonder he felt drained. He yawned several times, walked to the bed, and lay down. However, after tossing and turning for a long time, he could not fall asleep.

*Forget it,* he thought. *The nap plan is a bust. I might as well head into the mountains with my gear and find some food for Whitey.*

He rose, packed his things, put on his straw sandals, slung the spirit-binding basket over his shoulder, and headed out once more.

...

At the entrance of the pork shop in Zhao Village:

"Old neighbor, what's going on? I heard Zhao Tianlin ran into something unclean last night?" asked a woman in cloth garments, carrying a vegetable basket. The other women gathered around looked on with curiosity.

Duan Yue’e, Zhao Tianlin’s mother, sighed helplessly, her face etched with worry. "You heard right. Tianlin was trying to get home early last night and took the mountain path. He said that when he passed the graveyard, he saw... he saw someone. He claimed it was someone from the 'other side,' and that this person was trying to dig up Old Zhao’s grave. He even said the person was smiling at him... it was just chilling, sigh."

"Indeed. You remember what Haozi said—the mountains haven't been peaceful lately. Perhaps Tianlin really did run into something sinister," the woman added.

"That's true. And didn't Old Zhao’s funeral party run into something in the mountains a couple of days ago? Zhang Hao was the one who helped them out."

"Oh, right! We almost forgot. Shouldn't we ask Zhang Hao about this? He knows quite a bit about these things. We should go ask him."

"That's a good idea. Maybe he can take a look at Tianlin. We can't let him be haunted by something unclean; it'll affect the boy."

Just as she finished speaking, Zhao Yuan, who was busy chopping meat, set down his cleaver and muttered, "I think you all had better stay away from Haozi for now."

Duan Yue’e paused. "Why?" The other women looked at him curiously.

Zhao Yuan hesitated for a moment, let out a silent sigh, and whispered with a strange expression, "When I went to town for supplies today, Zhang Hao insisted on coming along, saying he had business there. Do you know what he went to town for?"

The women shook their heads.

Zhao Yuan frowned and said mysteriously, "He went to the funeral home! And he was specifically asking if any families had lost a husband and left behind a widow..."

The women’s expressions turned to shock, their appetite for gossip growing sharper.

"What kind of decent person runs to a funeral home before dawn?"

"Exactly! And asking specifically about widows whose husbands just died? What in the world is that boy Zhang Hao up to?"

"He has been acting strange. They say he was up in the mountains last night, too—middle of the night! How dangerous is that?"

"Do you think... he’s been possessed by something unclean?"

Just as the women were chattering away, a cool, melodic voice, tinged with slight displeasure, came from behind them.

"Brother Zhao, give me two pounds of pork belly and five pounds of lard."

The women immediately fell silent and turned to look. It was Li Siyu.

She was dressed in a pale purple cross-collar shirt and skirt. Lifting her hem slightly, she stood at the meat stall and offered a faint smile. "Aunt Duan, Aunt Li, Sister Zhang..."

The women’s expressions shifted, looking somewhat unnatural. Everyone in Zhao Village knew that Li Siyu and Zhang Hao were engaged. It was certainly improper to gossip about Zhang Hao in front of his fiancée.

Duan Yue’e’s face flushed red. After a brief, awkward greeting, she turned and walked silently toward her own home. Her house was just a short distance away; as she looked up, she saw Zhao Tianlin sitting at the doorway, sunbathing. His face was deathly pale, his gaze vacant, and his body as rigid as a statue.