C1

In the more remote rural areas, there are often some hidden taboos and customs. Once touched, it would lead to disaster.

What I want to talk about is a very secretive ceremony in our part of the world. Almost every family has participated in this ceremony, but it has never reached the ears of outsiders.

If the family has a serious illness, it will take a long time for it to improve. He had to find the patient's old clothes and fill them with straw to make them into a dummy. The dummy has a special name for us.

Then I went to school, determined to stay in the city to work, not without the intention of running away from home.

But sometimes, fate was something that couldn't be escaped from. Finally, it was my turn to take the "Regeneration".

On Friday, I received a call from my hometown saying that foster-grandpa was very ill and might not be able to hold on for much longer. Startled, I dropped the phone and hurried back. When I got home, I found him lying unconscious in bed.

The Old Village Chief brought a few people to guard him. When he saw me return, he told me about the situation in foster-grandpa. The meaning was that with his current state, acupuncture and medicine were no longer effective. It was best to prepare for the future as soon as possible, in case he got flustered and made a fool of himself.

I asked the village chief for a cigarette, squatted by the door, took a few long puffs, stood up and said, Let me go to the funeral.

The old village chief was stunned for a while, then patted my shoulder and said, "If you were willing to help him fake his grave, your foster-grandpa would not have supported you for all these years."

Actually, foster-grandpa and I aren't blood related, he hasn't married in his entire life. I was his adopted child. According to his age, he belongs to my grandfather's generation, so I kept calling him foster-grandpa.

To tell the truth, I was afraid of the fake burial, but I couldn't stand by and watch him die.

After confirming that I had agreed to a fake burial, the old chief called me to a small hut and told me what I needed to pay attention to during the fake burial.

Only after I finished listening did I realize that the true fake burial was even more mysterious and scary than what my clan's uncle told me back then.

The old village chief gave me a few more instructions and then patted me on the shoulder, telling me to be careful along the way.

I looked at foster-grandpa who was lying on the bed. He has been unconscious for many days. I must finish the fake burial as soon as possible.

Therefore, I didn't say much. Carrying the "Regeneration" on my back, I walked out of the house.

I looked up at the sky. It was a cloudy night, and there was no moon. This was the kind of day that a fake grave should be buried on. It was said that it was to cover up the ghost servant's eyes, making it impossible for them to tell if the person buried was a real person or a fake person.

When I reached the village entrance, there were two people waiting for me.

One of them was a playmate of mine from my childhood. His name was Hu Dali, and he looked big and strong, but there was a problem with his intelligence.

The other was his clan uncle. Uncle didn't say anything, he only patted my shoulder and sighed before moving to the side.

I nodded to them and headed for the cemetery outside the village. They did not follow. This was because the rules of the fake burial had to be completed by one person.

A few minutes later I was standing at the foot of the hill.

The Tomb Mountain used to be a small hill, but I don't know when it started, but everyone who died in our village would be buried on it. Over time, there would be burial mounds everywhere, and its name would become burial mounds.

I took a deep breath and carried the Regeneration up the mountain. The grass and trees on the grave hill grew so wild that I stumbled, the Regeneration behind me bouncing up and down.

As I breathed in the smell of the smoke, I vaguely felt that it was another foster-grandpa on my back. It made my hair stand on end.

I took a deep breath to calm my pounding heart, but the smell of paper money made me even more nervous.

I walked up and down the hill, burning three pieces of paper money for every grave I came across. These three pieces of paper money were just money to buy a road.

After I buy the way, the dead will let me pass safely, otherwise, I will be in the dark to make things difficult for the fake burial.

I counted them very carefully, three for each person, no more, no less. The paper money burned in front of the grave, turning into a ball of sparks. A cold wind blew, carrying the paper money with it as it floated over the grave. It was said that this process was called counting money.

Three infinite, six infinite. These numbers are too many to count, so they'll keep counting, not caring about me. If I gave it wrong, I gave it two or four. When they finished counting, they would probably catch up and ask for money along the way.

Fortunately, nothing strange happened along the way. About fifteen minutes later I was on the shady side of the Cemetery Hill.

The grave was on the sun side of the grave hill, as everyone knew. However, only those who had fake buried before would know that on the dark side of the mountain, there was a Golden Toad Temple.

I had to carry the Regeneration to worship the Golden Toad Temple, then I could bury the Regeneration on the grave mountain. After completing this whole ceremony, the fake burial would finally be over.

I've never been here, so I'm a little scared looking at the dark temple door.

Squeak... A gust of cold wind blew, and a crack appeared in the temple door, as if there was something inside that invited me in.

Trembling, I went to the door, turned sideways, and squeezed through the crack.

Clang! The temple door slammed shut, and I broke out in a cold sweat.

I took matches and candles from my bosom and lit them on the floor.

The Golden Toad Temple sounded impressive, but it was actually just a small hut. There was no altar, no statue, just four empty walls.

I looked around and, finding nothing out of the ordinary, placed the lit candle in the center of the room.

Then I carried Regeneration around the room, circling the candle. At the same time, he muttered to himself, "Great deity, please bless my foster-grandpa Hu Mancang, I will die from a hundred diseases, and live for a hundred years …"

Kneeling in three steps, kowtowing in nine steps, all the way until he had forty-nine rotations.

I was afraid of mispronouncing a single word and taking a wrong step, so I became nervous and concentrated.

Who knew that the more nervous I got, the more mistakes I would make. I stumbled and fell to the ground. I got up in a hurry and continued to walk in circles.

I was going crazy, so I gave my legs a hard thump and kept walking. Who would have thought that the matter with the devil would come? Even though it was a flat ground, I still kept falling, as if someone was deliberately tripping over me.

Thinking of this, my heart thumped. I knew that something had happened.

When I was young, I heard my uncle talk about the Ghost Catcher. It wasn't that they couldn't fall during the fake burial, but they definitely couldn't fall more than seven times. Otherwise, it would be hard for the immortals to save them.

At this thought, I became even more afraid. Gritting my teeth, I stood up on my hands and knees and slowly took a step forward. When my step was firm, I took a second step.

It's slow, but I'd rather be steady.

Just as I was about to reach the forty-ninth lap, I heaved a sigh of relief. But right at this moment, Hu Dali's anxious shout came from outside.

He shouted with all his might: "Hu Chujiu, your foster-grandpa is dead, there's no need to bury him, quickly come back."

"What?" I screamed. Then I felt someone push me, and I hit the ground hard.

I got up in a panic, and then my scalp went numb: the candle had turned a pale green, and the whole room was ghostly.

"Giggle!" A weird sound rang in my ear. Like a seriously ill old man laughing.