Chapter 1: The Corpse
"Little brats! Time to eat! Woop-woop-woop!"
Wearing an apron, Cui Guiying held a bowl in her left hand and a spoon in her right, tapping the edge of the porridge pot as she called out.
Li Weihan, who was sitting nearby loading tobacco into his water pipe, kicked his wife's large behind. He grumbled, "What's wrong with you? Calling them like they're piglets?"
Cui Guiying glared at her man, slammed a stack of bowls heavily onto the table in front of him, and spat, "Hmph! Pigs don't make this much noise, and they certainly don't eat this much!"
Hearing the summons, a troop of children ran in from the doorway: seven boys and four girls. The oldest was sixteen, and the youngest was only three.
Li Weihan and his wife had four sons and one daughter. After their own children grew up, they moved out, and normally only the eldest son, who lived close by, would leave his pair of three-year-old twins with them.
But with the arrival of summer vacation, everyone else seemed to decide that if their siblings were taking advantage of Mom and Dad, they should too. They all sent their kids over.
If you agreed to take the eldest son's children, you couldn't very well refuse the others. Suddenly, their home felt less like a house and more like a boarding school.
The couple hadn't had a moment to fully savor the sweetness of a house full of grandchildren before they saw the bottom of their rice jar.
As the saying goes, growing boys eat their parents out of house and home. They were all at a crucial age for growth and had bottomless pits for stomachs. Cui Guiying had to use a large ceramic pot to hold the main meal, and even one pot wasn't enough; there was always a second one warming on the stove.
Though they were already grandparents to a crowd, the couple wasn't particularly old. And by the rules of the village, unless you were sick or disabled and unable to work, you were never entitled to meals paid for and provided by your children, no matter how old you got.
"Stop snatching! Get in line, you hungry ghosts!"
The children came forward with their bowls, and Cui Guiying was in charge of scooping the porridge.
The last to approach was a shy, fair-skinned ten-year-old boy in denim overalls and fashionable sandals. He seemed a little out of place next to his cousins, who were all dirty, messy, and constantly sniffling.
"Little Yuan, come, you eat here."
"Thank you, Grandma."
Cui Guiying smiled and patted the boy's head. He was the only grandson through a daughter in the whole noisy bunch—or rather, he was until recently.
The boy was named Li Chuiyuan. His mother, Cui Guiying's youngest daughter, was the first university student to ever come out of Siyuan Village.
The daughter had gone to a university in the capital, found a job there, and married a city man she'd met herself—a pale, well-mannered man whom she'd brought home once before the wedding.
Cui Guiying couldn't quite recall his face. She and her husband had been too nervous and embarrassed to look closely at their son-in-law that day.
Later, their daughter got pregnant and had a son. Because of the long journey and her busy job, she hadn't been back since. However, ever since she graduated, she had been sending money to her parents every single month.
Li Weihan and his wife saved the money sent before the marriage. They stubbornly refused to touch a single penny, even when their four sons got married. When their daughter brought her fiancé home, Li Weihan pushed back the wedding gift money (the caili) the son-in-law offered, added the money his daughter had sent, and returned the whole sum.
He had wanted to be even tougher and add some extra money from the family's side, but with four sons already married, even squeezing their belts until they choked left the couple with nothing.
This had always left them feeling guilty. Returning the daughter's money meant they had contributed nothing to her wedding, which was a huge loss of face.
As for the money the daughter sent every month after the marriage, the couple continued to save it. Whenever the sons, instigated by their wives, came over with various excuses to try and get their hands on the savings, Li Weihan would curse them away.
Half a month ago, the daughter sent her son over via a man in a military uniform, along with a letter and a sum of cash. The letter explained that she was divorced and going through a recent change in her job, so she could only temporarily entrust her son to her parents.
The daughter wrote that after the divorce, she had changed the boy's surname to match hers, making her former out-of-family grandson their in-family grandson.
After arriving in the village, Li Chuiyuan showed no sign of distress. Instead, he quickly integrated, spending his days having fun with his cousins at every corner of the village.
Today's main meal was sweet potato porridge. It had a sweet taste but wasn't very filling and digested quickly. Even after several large bowls, stuffing their bellies until they were round, the kids would be hungry again after just a short run around.
Moreover, if you ate sweet potato porridge and sweet potato strips too often and for too long, it could actually hurt your stomach, causing acid reflux just at the sight of it.
Li Chuiyuan, however, hadn't tired of it. He quite enjoyed the "communal dining hall" feel, and he especially loved the various pickled vegetables and preserved sauces made by Cui Guiying.
"Grandma, why aren't we going to Old Man Hu's house for the feast today?"
The question came from the second uncle's son, nicknamed Hu Zi, who was nine years old.
Cui Guiying tapped Hu Zi's head with the end of her chopsticks. She scolded, "You little brat! That's a funeral feast because his mother died. Do you want him to host a feast every day?"
Covering his head, Hu Zi replied, "Why not? It'd be great to have one every day."
"What nonsense are you saying, you little idiot? Even if he wanted to host one every day, there aren't enough people to line up and die daily."
Smack! Li Weihan sharply hit the table with his chopsticks. He scolded, "What vulgar things are you saying to a child?"
Cui Guiying realized she had misspoke but didn't retort. Instead, she used her spoon to scoop a piece of preserved sauce—which contained ground peanuts and a little minced meat—into Li Chuiyuan's porridge bowl next to her. She made sure that one spoonful contained meat.
Li Chuiyuan stirred it a few times with his chopsticks. As the color of the sauce spread, delicate white bits of meat floated to the surface of the porridge.
The children, sharp-eyed and driven by the principle of "don't mind scarcity, but mind unequal distribution," immediately noticed. Hu Zi shouted, "Grandma, I want meat too! The kind in Yuan-ge's bowl!"
"Grandma, me too!"
"Me too!"
The other children chimed in.
"Go, go, go!" Cui Guiying shooed them away impatiently. "It's one thing for the little ones to make noise, but Panzi, Leizi, Yingzi, the older ones among you—why are you joining in? Be sensible! The food here today was bought with the money Little Yuan's mother sent. Your own parents haven't contributed a single grain of rice! How dare you try to snatch food from him?"
Panzi, Leizi, and Yingzi lowered their heads in embarrassment, while the younger ones just exchanged smiles and quickly moved past the issue.
Grandma had dropped hints before, and they had relayed the message home, but their parents had told them all to play dumb.
Just then, Shi Tou (Stone), the third son's eight-year-old, asked, "Is Little Oriole still around?"
Cui Guiying asked, "Who is Little Oriole?"
Hu Zi answered, "Grandma, Little Oriole is the woman who danced and sang at Old Man Hu's house yesterday. Her singing was so good, and she danced so well."
"Is that so?" Cui Guiying had been busy helping out in the kitchen, washing dishes all day, and didn't have the leisure to go watch the funeral troupe perform after the meal.
Her husband, Li Weihan, hadn't gone either. He'd claimed he was out fishing, but he was actually home. The real reason was embarrassment; since he had already let Panzi, Leizi, Little Yuan, Hu Zi, and Shi Tou go enjoy the funeral feast, it would have looked bad for him, an adult, to show up as well.
The five children not only ate their fill but also smuggled out a lot of food, especially the main dishes that were allotted per person at the tables. Li Chuiyuan learned from his older cousins, tearing off a piece of the red plastic sheeting used as a tablecloth to wrap the leftovers.
When they got home, they divided the spoils among the younger siblings who hadn't been able to attend the feast. Watching their younger siblings eat made them feel like generals returning from a victorious battle.
Leizi said, "Her singing was really good, and she was beautiful. She told everyone to call her Little Oriole."
Panzi nodded. "She was great. Beautiful person, beautiful clothes. I want to marry a woman just like her when I grow up."
Cui Guiying looked down at Li Chuiyuan beside her and asked, "Little Yuan, is that true?"
"Uh-huh," Li Chuiyuan put down his chopsticks and nodded. "Beautiful."
The funeral troupes in the countryside were expected to be multi-talented.
During the ritual part, they could wear Taoist robes and Kassayas, chant scriptures, and perform rites, looking solemn and otherworldly.
But after the main lunch feast, they had to organize a variety show, performing singing, dancing, acrobatics, or magic—anything and everything they could manage.
If the host family was well-off and liked to show off, they would hire special troupes for an evening show, though the adults would usually rush the children home to bed before those performances started.
Little Oriole's surname was Xiao, her real name was Xiao Huangying, and "Little Oriole" was her stage name. She wasn't actually young, being over thirty and divorced.
In truth, her singing and dancing skills were only mediocre, but she knew how to dress. Her clothes were bold and fashionable—a tight black qipao with a high slit that showed off a large amount of pale leg, combined with a friendly and enthusiastic stage presence...
The village women used the most venomous curse, which also served as the highest compliment, to describe her: slutty (sao).
In a village where very few people owned a television, and where people had to crowd together on benches to catch a glimpse, the wind of fashion had yet to truly blow in. Thus, Little Oriole's "sluttiness" was a devastating, overwhelming sight to the surrounding village girls and wives.
She not only captured the souls of the men but also confused the older boys.
At that moment, a figure appeared in the doorway of the main room. It was their neighbor, Zhao Simei, who had been an old "sister" and gossip buddy of Cui Guiying since their children were young.
"Have you eaten?" Cui Guiying asked. "Come, pull up a chair and join us."
Zhao Simei quickly waved her hand and laughed. "Oh, I wouldn't dare crash your meal! Look, you're already scraping the bottom of the pot."
"This porridge is comforting for the stomach; I love it. Come on, I'll pour you a bowl. No matter how much we scrape the rice jar, we're not going to be short a single bowl for you, are we?"
"Alright, alright, I've already eaten. Hey, did you hear? The boss of that funeral troupe and his people went to Old Man Hu's house just now and caused a scene. They reportedly smashed things and nearly got into a fight!"
Cui Guiying immediately put down her bowl and chopsticks and stood up, still shoveling porridge into her mouth as she moved toward the door. "What happened? Old Man Hu didn't pay them?"
"It wasn't about the performance fee. Someone from the troupe is missing."
"What? Someone's gone?" Cui Guiying sucked on her chopsticks. "Who's missing?"
"One of the women, the one who was so flirtatious. The one whose butt was wiggling so much yesterday you practically saw her crack."
"Little Oriole?" Panzi asked.
The other children also pricked up their ears.
"I think so. That loose woman," Zhao Simei sounded gleeful.
"How did she go missing, and have they found her?" Cui Guiying asked.
"They say someone saw that loose woman from the troupe go into the small woods by the river with Old Man Hu's youngest son last night. She never returned to the troupe after that, so the troupe boss went to demand her back."
"What about Old Man Hu's son?"
"He's home, but he claims ignorance, saying nothing happened. But quite a few people in the village saw them—saw him and that hussy go into the woods."
"So where is she?"
"Who knows? She's just gone. The troupe leader was there to demand the person, but Old Man Hu's family insisted they hadn't seen her, saying the hussy ran off on her own."
"Then what happened?"
"Old Man Hu's family compensated the troupe boss with a sum of money. A significant amount, too."
Cui Guiying quickly tapped Zhao Simei's arm and raised an eyebrow. "Something's fishy!"
Zhao Simei immediately tapped her arm back, lifting her chin. "You bet your life it is!"
Old Man Hu used to be the deputy head of the grain station in town, which was a lucrative position. Even though he was retired now, aside from his youngest son being a loafer, his other sons all held jobs in town. Even the village chief's family didn't wield as much influence as theirs.
So, for Old Man Hu to be willing to pay money to settle the matter, there had to be a cover-up!
"They just took the money, and the troupe boss left?"
"Left."
"And they aren't looking for the person?"
"Looking for who? The whole troupe already packed up their gear and drove away in a truck to their next gig."
"Oh dear," Cui Guiying shook her head. "I hope nothing bad happened."
"Who knows?"
"People are really something."
"They are."
Hearing this, Hu Zi and Shi Tou suddenly burst into tears:
"Waaah! Little Oriole! Little Oriole!"
"My Little Oriole is gone, waaah!"
Zhao Simei nearly laughed out loud, pointing at them. "See? Your two grandsons are real romantics."
Cui Guiying rolled her eyes at her. "Don't you have a granddaughter? Why don't we set them up?"
"Heh," Zhao Simei scoffed, pointing at Li Chuiyuan. "If we're going to be in-laws, it should be with your Little Yuan, so my Little Juan can follow him to the capital and live a good life."
"Go on, get out of here. Stop dreaming."
Li Weihan had finished eating. He wasn't interested in the old women's gossip and couldn't conveniently interrupt. He silently picked up his water pipe, opened his matchbox, and found it empty.
Li Chuiyuan put down his chopsticks and ran to the stove alcove to retrieve a box of matches for Li Weihan.
Li Weihan didn't take the box but moved the bowl of the pipe closer to Li Chuiyuan.
Li Chuiyuan smiled, took out a match, and struck it three times—scratch, scratch, scratch—before finally producing a flame. He carefully shielded it with his other hand and lowered it toward the pipe's bowl.
Li Weihan took several long pulls, inhaling the smoke contentedly, a look of satisfaction on his face.
His daughter used to love lighting his pipe for him too, and she'd promised him that when she grew up, she'd buy him packaged cigarettes.
"Phew."
Li Chuiyuan blew out the match, dropped it on the ground, and stomped on it several times with his shoe.
Panzi spoke up: "Grandpa, can we take the boat out this afternoon to pick lotus seeds?"
Li Weihan glanced at the meager meal on the table and nodded. "Leizi, you come too. Bring the net. See if we can catch a few fish for your grandma to make some soup."
Hearing this, Hu Zi and Shi Tou immediately forgot about Little Oriole. They shouted, "Grandpa, I want to go! Me too!"
The other younger children also joined the chorus, afraid of missing out on a fun outing.
Li Weihan looked around seriously and scolded, "Listen up! The river has Water Imps that specialize in dragging people under and drowning them to use as substitutes so they can finally be reborn."
The children immediately quieted down, frightened.
Shi Tou asked, slightly unconvinced, "Then how come the older brothers get to go?"
Panzi and Leizi, being older and more sensible, helped their grandfather scare their younger siblings:
"I'm strong, the Water Imp can't pull me down."
"I'm a good swimmer, the Water Imp can't catch me."
Li Chuiyuan wasn't frightened, and he wanted to go, but he was too shy to speak up. He just looked down at his hands, occasionally stealing a glance at his grandfather.
Li Weihan said, "Little Yuan can go, too."
Hu Zi immediately protested, "That's not fair! Yuan-ge is only one year older than me."
Shi Tou chimed in, "Yeah, Yuan-ge isn't even stronger than me! How will he fight a Water Imp?"
Li Weihan slowly exhaled a ring of smoke and gave a perfectly logical, even for children, reason:
"Little Yuan came from the outside. Our local Water Imps don't know him."
...
The village houses were mostly built facing the road, with the back doors opening toward the river.
When washing clothes or vegetables, all you had to do was step out the back door and walk down a few stone steps to reach the riverbank.
Those who were shrewd about making a living often set up a net barrier in the section of the river near their home to raise ducks and geese.
Old Li's boat was tied to the persimmon tree by the back door. Li Weihan untied the rope and boarded first, stabilizing the boat with a bamboo pole.
Panzi, holding a fishing rod, and Leizi, holding the fishing net, jumped onto the boat one after the other.
Li Chuiyuan, wearing a small bamboo basket, was helped onto the boat by Li Weihan.
"Everyone sit tight! We're off!"
The boat began to move, propelled by the bamboo pole repeatedly lengthening and shortening in the water.
Panzi and Leizi were used to it and lounged lazily on the boat. Li Chuiyuan sat up straight, watching the aquatic weeds drift past and the dragonflies skimming over the surface.
"Here, Yuan-zi." Panzi handed him a small handful of roasted beans.
He was the eldest son's child, lived close by, and would sneak home to grab snacks. His mother had warned him to hide them and eat them by himself, not sharing.
In contrast, Li Chuiyuan's mother had sent a large bag of snacks—cookies, meat floss, canned fruit—along with him via the military man, and she'd mailed another large package the day before yesterday. Cui Guiying had locked it all away, distributing a fixed daily portion to all the children.
"Thank you, Panzi Ge."
Li Chuiyuan took the beans and popped one into his mouth. These beans, locally called "Fist Beans," were actually broad beans. When shelled, stir-fried with spices and salt, they were very fragrant to chew.
However, Li Chuiyuan didn't really like them. They were too hard, difficult to chew, and easily chipped his teeth.
So, while his two older cousins were crunch-crunch-crunching loudly, Li Chuiyuan held a single bean in his mouth, sucking on it like candy.
"In the coming days there'll be thousands of songs, drifting along the road; in the coming days there'll be thousands of stars, shining brighter than tonight's moon."
Panzi began to sing.
"You're singing it wrong," Leizi laughed. "That's not how it goes."
Panzi scoffed. "Hmph! If you can sing it, then you sing it!"
Leizi mumbled and scratched his head. "I only remember the melody."
Li Weihan, who was poling the boat, asked, "What are you singing? I can't understand it."
Panzi replied, "Grandpa, it's the song Little Oriole sang yesterday. It's called Yue Opera."
"Yue Opera?" Li Weihan was surprised. "Was that Yue Opera?"
Leizi corrected him: "No, Grandpa, it's Cantonese Opera (Yuequ). It's from Guangdong and Hong Kong."
"Oh, I see. Sing it well for Grandpa to hear."
Leizi said, "Panzi can't sing it. He doesn't even remember the lyrics. It's nothing like Little Oriole yesterday."
In truth, Little Oriole's version was probably highly non-standard as well, but for the mainland at that time, standard or non-standard made little difference—no one understood it anyway. What mattered was the confident flair.
Panzi pointed at Li Chuiyuan. "I saw Little Yuan singing along yesterday. He knows how to sing it."
Li Weihan: "Little Yuan, sing it for Grandpa."
Li Chuiyuan was too shy. "I only know that little bit."
"Sing it, sing it," Leizi urged. "Little Yuan can sing English songs, too!"
Li Chuiyuan relented and sang:
> "In the coming days, even if there are thousands of songs, drifting along my distant road; in the coming days, even if there are thousands of stars, shining brighter than tonight's moon."
>
"That's all I know. Mom loves this song and plays it often at home."
Leizi looked triumphantly at Panzi. "See? Your lyrics were wrong."
Panzi rolled his eyes at Leizi.
The boys chatted as the boat finally reached a wider part of the river.
Panzi went to help his grandfather with the pole. Li Weihan began to look for a spot while unraveling the fishing net. Leizi set up the fishing rod.
Li Chuiyuan had no task, so he sat there straight-backed with his small bamboo basket, alternating between watching his grandfather and cousins work and looking at the water weeds and the frogs jumping on them.
As he watched, Li Chuiyuan leaned forward in confusion.
Li Weihan had been keeping an eye on his "outside grandson." Seeing him lean over, he immediately warned, "Little Yuan, sit back! Don't fall in!"
Li Chuiyuan pointed to the water ahead and asked, "Grandpa, brother, there's a patch of black water weeds there."
"Where?" Leizi followed Li Chuiyuan's finger. "Oh, you're right, it's black."
"Where, where?" Panzi was helping to pole the boat at the stern and couldn't see clearly, so he actively steered the boat toward that spot.
Li Weihan initially paid no mind, busy untangling the fishing net. It was only when he heard Li Chuiyuan and Leizi still chattering about it that he looked up—and his eyes instantly froze.
That mass of black was fine yet pervasive, scattered yet unified. It wasn't aquatic weed at all—it was human hair!
Now, because Panzi kept moving the boat closer, they were almost on top of the area. The parts underwater became faintly visible: the dark patterns, the white buttons, the curvy outlines...
Because Li Chuiyuan was sitting, the first person to see the underwater part clearly was Leizi, who was standing beside him. Leizi immediately shouted:
"Grandpa, that's a person! Someone fell into the water! Panzi, pole closer and save them!"
The story of the Water Imp no longer frightened the older boys. Their simple, good nature instinctively made them believe someone had fallen in, and their first reaction was rescue.
"Nonsense!"
Li Weihan suddenly roared. The grandfather, usually kind but strict with his grandchildren, lost his composure entirely. Veins bulged on his rough, chapped skin. He instantly threw the fishing net onto the deck, rushing toward the stern and yelling at Panzi:
"Turn the boat! Turn the boat! Give me the pole! Don't go near it!"
Their boat had been in this area for a while, and they hadn't heard any splashing sounds. The water here was utterly still—there was no one to rescue. That person was definitely long dead!
By all rights, encountering a drowned body (a dead drop) was merely bad luck, so why the panic?
But Li Weihan knew he had to retreat as fast as possible.
The local area was rich with rivers and canals, so drowning was not uncommon. Nearly every village, or cluster of neighboring villages, had a person who specialized in the grim work of recovering drowned bodies.
It wasn't their main profession, but the person chosen was always fixed—partially because the work was unlucky, and partially because there were many taboos. Only a seasoned practitioner with an inherited trade would willingly touch it.
Siyuan Village had a body retriever named Li Sanjiang, whom Li Weihan addressed as "Uncle" by seniority.
Li Sanjiang was childless. He didn't bother planting the fields allotted to him by the village, choosing instead to rent them out just for grain.
However, he wasn't a lazy man living hand-to-mouth. He had two side jobs: making paper offerings for the dead and retrieving bodies. Both brought in a good income, far more substantial than farming. As a result, though he lived alone, he enjoyed small amounts of meat and alcohol every day, living quite comfortably.
Years ago, to help his four sons get married, Li Weihan had rented Li Sanjiang's fields, genuinely benefiting from the arrangement. Thus, whenever a body needed retrieving, Li Weihan would go along to help his Uncle.
Though Li Sanjiang never let him board the retrieval boat or touch the corpse, only having him set up the altar on the bank and prepare chicken or dog blood, Li Weihan had learned a lot about the trade's secrets from him over time.
In their jargon, a drowned corpse was called a "dead drop."
Normally, a person who drowns will sink, stay submerged for several days, and then float up as decomposition sets in. Due to pelvic structure, male bodies usually float face down, and female bodies face up.
Most "dead drops" were recovered by Li Sanjiang after a fixed procedure and handed over to the family on the bank. But during one drinking session, Li Sanjiang had gravely told him about two special cases—two types of bodies he was terrified to recover.
The first was a "dead drop" near a swirl or whirlpool. This meant there was a breach or mud trap nearby, which could capsize and suck in his boat and himself.
As for the second, it was one that made even Li Sanjiang tremble and his scalp crawl...
It was a "dead drop" that stood upright on the riverbed, with only the hair floating on the surface!
Such a corpse carried immense resentment and was unable to rest in peace. It desperately wanted to drag a substitute down with it!
Li Weihan remembered how Li Sanjiang's bloodshot eyes had stared at him seriously that day:
"Han-zi, remember this: If you ever see a 'dead drop' like that on the water, don't think about anything else. Get away as fast as you can. If you're too slow, it will keep you!"
Therefore, upon realizing this was an upright dead drop, how could Li Weihan not be terrified? Especially since he had three grandchildren on the boat!
Panzi, still curious, clearly failed to register his grandfather's command. As his grandfather rushed over to grab the bamboo pole, Panzi stumbled, causing the pole to violently stab into the mud sideways. This sent the boat into a severe tilt to the right.
This degree of tilt was nothing for seasoned boaters. Leizi, standing at the edge, quickly dropped into a squat and grabbed the boat's edge to regain balance. But Li Chuiyuan, sitting there with no such experience, was thrown out by the inertia. With a "Plop!", he fell into the water—right on the side facing the corpse.
The river water was very clear, and with the bright afternoon sun, the visibility underwater was excellent.
Li Chuiyuan, having just fallen in, instinctively thrashed, but he was instantly stunned by the sight before him.
Just as Leizi had said, there was a person standing in the water—and it was none other than the Little Oriole his cousins had been talking about at the dinner table!
She was still wearing the same black qipao from her performance, with white buttons and a slit up to her waist, along with those red high-heeled shoes.
The water flowed steadily. Pushed by the current, her arms swung back and forth rhythmically, and her legs swayed gently.
It looked as if she were walking underwater.
She was swinging her arms, swaying her waist, showing her legs, standing on her tiptoes, and singing...
Even underwater, she was performing the seductive pose that the village women both envied and loathed.
"In the coming days, even if there are thousands of songs, drifting along my distant road..."
The non-standard Cantonese tune of Little Oriole seemed to ring in his ears again.
Accompanying the song,
Little Oriole slowly turned, her face gradually moving to face Li Chuiyuan.
Her long hair floated diagonally upward, looking like a black umbrella. The makeup on her face was thicker than yesterday, and her lips were a more vivid red.
Suddenly,
She smiled.
(End of Chapter 1)