Chapter 9: The Pariah of All Women

"Uncle Zhao! Uncle Zhao! What's happening? The incense snapped!"

Uncle Zhao, the Madman, slowly rose from the crooked tree he had been leaning against. He showed no panic, as if everything were unfolding exactly as expected.

He sauntered over to the stone grave.

He formed a hand seal, offered a simple bow, and whispered, "My lady, apologies for the disturbance."

With that, he hauled me up from where I had been kneeling and dragged me toward the next grave.

My father, carrying the offerings, chased after us, crying, "Uncle Zhao, what is going on?"

Reaching the next grave, Uncle Zhao replied, "That last grave belonged to the daughter of a General’s estate from ancient times. She didn't want your boy as a son-in-law. Keep bowing!"

My grandfather said dejectedly, "A General’s daughter? Well... that’s understandable. She was a gilded lily; she wouldn't have looked twice at us poor folk, even in death."

The words "poor folk" were etched into my grandfather’s very soul; he had carried the weight of that label his entire life. He had desperately wanted to change his fate. Hearing that a General’s daughter had rejected me, he felt a crushing disappointment and could only offer a weak attempt to comfort himself.

Uncle Zhao cleared the weeds from the second grave. "The reason I’m having you bow at every one is to see if any kind-hearted maiden is willing. Maybe a blind cat will stumble upon a dead mouse."

After saying this, Uncle Zhao stood aside, scanning the surroundings as if searching for something.

My grandfather had no choice but to light the incense again. My father stood behind me like a servant, then delivered another kick to my knees.

*Thump.*

I was back on the ground.

My grandfather’s eyes widened at the sight, but he was too anxious to scold my father, his gaze locked intently on the three sticks of incense. If no one would take me, I could not escape death.

Just as everyone watched the incense with bated breath, the smoke patterns began to swirl erratically again, tangling in the air as if locked in a struggle.

But the good news was that, after a long while, the incense did not snap. It only continued to twist.

Uncle Zhao sighed, "Let’s go. Next."

My father grabbed Uncle Zhao’s arm. "No, Uncle Zhao! The incense didn't snap this time! Surely she has agreed to the marriage!"

"Agreed, my foot! This lady is just gentle-natured and isn't throwing a tantrum. The smoke pattern is still wrong—she hasn't agreed. Next!" Uncle Zhao snapped, already walking toward the third grave.

The procedure repeated itself. One kick from my father, and I was on my knees. After a gust of cold wind, the incense snapped once more, as if the entity within were enraged.

***

Next came more kowtowing, more lighting of incense, and more snapping.

*Snap!*
*Clatter!*
*Snap!*
*Clatter!*

My small knees were already stained with blood. The ground around the stone graves was littered with fragments of stone inkstones, and after kneeling at so many, the skin had long since broken.

The sky began to darken. My grandfather and father were utterly dejected. They could never have imagined that, beyond being unable to find a living wife, their grandson wasn't even wanted by the dead.

In such a vast graveyard, was there not a single soul?

After the final grave was finished, my father, exhausted from holding the offerings all day, set them aside. Rubbing his hands, he said, "I understand now. The ladies in this area all look down on my son because he's a fool. I see another plot to the east. Uncle Zhao, let's try that area!"

Uncle Zhao’s expression was grim. He puffed away at his pipe in silence.

My grandfather asked, "Old Zhao, let’s change locations. We can't give up. We’ve put in so much effort; if we don't find a bride today, he’s as good as dead!"

Uncle Zhao finally sighed. "That land to the east is all men, and the area below the hillside is just ordinary villagers. They can't protect this boy!"

My father and grandfather froze.

"What? You mean only the spirits in this graveyard are female and capable of protecting the child?"

Uncle Zhao nodded solemnly.

"Then what do we do?" My father, previously not so frantic, now realized all options were exhausted. He lost all the harshness he had shown when kicking me earlier. "It’s over, it’s over! My child is doomed! What do I do, Uncle Zhao?"

"Is it because the offerings aren't enough? I’ll buy more! If I have to, I’ll bring our family heirloom!"

"But the heirloom is just a silver bracelet; these ladies won't care for that. What do I do? I’ll go borrow money from the village chief!"

My father rambled on, ready to head down the mountain, but Uncle Zhao cursed, "This isn't about money, damn it! These ladies refuse him partly because he’s a fool, but also because they know he’s been targeted by something over a thousand years old. They’re afraid to cross it!"

Hearing this, my father’s heart turned to ash. He slumped onto the cold ground, drained of all spirit. My grandfather, too, had completely lost his senses, his eyes glazed and filled with despair.

***

He began to mutter, "The Han family is cursed... the Han family is cursed..."

Seeing the state of the grandfather and son, Uncle Zhao felt a twinge of pity. He pondered for a moment.

"This is truly strange. I cast a hex back then, and the divination showed that this boy’s fate holds a 'Red Source'—a powerful female figure of great virtue was destined to help him. How can it be that no one is willing?"

"Did I get the direction wrong?"

"No, I must cast another hex for him. Old Han, bring your grandson here."

As they spoke, all three turned to look at the stone floor where I had been kneeling.

It was empty.

My grandfather panicked. "Where is my grandson? Where is he?"

The three hurried to their feet, searching the area. Finally, their gazes locked onto the edge of the cliff at the very border of the graveyard.

I was there, busy with something.

The sky was already dark. A small child, alone at the edge of a cliff, shrouded in gloom—the sight terrified my grandfather and father.

"Is... is he possessed?" my father stammered.

I was someone who, aside from eating and wiping my nose, could do nothing. What could I possibly be doing at the edge of a cliff? This was completely out of character for me.

Uncle Zhao furrowed his brow. "Don't make a scene. Let's head over quietly and ensure the child's safety first!"

The three nodded and crept closer.

In the darkness, I had lit a white candle and placed it beside me. Under the dim, flickering light, the child had a smile on his face, looking into a large, dark cavity in the ground.

The area around it was shattered, as if struck by lightning many times. Yet, the scattered fragments of tombstones told everyone that this had once been a grave.

Just as the three of them watched in stunned silence, I suddenly let out a peal of childlike laughter.

"Giggle, giggle..."

"Eat... eat... eat..."