Just like that, Zhang Qiuyu and her husband stared in dazed astonishment as Nan Zhi swung the axe, chopping down two large locust tree branches with loud thack-thack-thacks.
Only when the branches hit the ground with a heavy thud did the couple snap back to reality and hurry over to help.
“No need. I grew up with my Grandma and did farm work all the time. This little bit of exercise won't tire me out.”
Nan Zhi patted the dust off the hem of her clothes, stacked the arm-thick branches in the corner of the wall, and greeted the two with a chuckle:
“Take a look—I've cleared out the house. If you think it's alright, we can stay in the old house tonight.”
People often said that trees shouldn't be planted inside a courtyard lest they block the fortune of descendants. In Xixiang, it was especially taboo to plant locust trees in a yard.
The character for locust tree, huai, was composed of the radicals for 'wood' and 'ghost'. Common belief held that it was a ghost tree, easily attracting evil spirits.
Yet as far back as Nan Zhi could remember, this large locust tree had always stood in the yard. Supposedly, it had been planted by her great-grandfather—the father of Grandma Dao—who was a Badai master who performed exorcisms and spiritual readings for people.
Grandma Dao had also appeared in Nan Zhi's dream to say that there was something left for her beneath this tree.
With too many eyes around during the day, Nan Zhi planned to wait until dark to examine what Grandma Dao had left behind.
The main room and side rooms of the old house had all been tidied up. Zhang Qiuyu led her husband inside to look around, exclaiming in delight and astonishment:
“This old house has such an amazing vibe! All the furniture is made of wood and bamboo, and after all these years, it's still intact. Old things really are built to last!
By the way, is your kitchen stove still usable? We just came back from the village and saw someone raising chickens. Let's buy one later, slaughter it, and have your brother-in-law stew it. He's from the Northeast, and chicken stewed over an authentic wood-burning stove is genuinely delicious!”
“Right. I think we shouldn't bother eating out for lunch. We have a ready wood-burning stove right here. We can just buy some oil, salt, sauce, and vinegar, and cook our own meal at home with peace of mind.”
Hearing his wife praise him in front of her best friend, Zhang Qiuyu's husband puffed out his chest with pride and assured Nan Zhi:
“Little Nan, let me tell you, I can't guarantee much else, but when it comes to cooking, I'm a real pro.
We agreed to help clean up, but you ended up doing all the work by yourself. So leave the cooking and everything else to me!”
Hearing the two say this, Nan Zhi didn't stand on ceremony either and took Zhang Qiuyu to the village to buy ingredients.
In Mulian Village, every household raised chickens, ducks, geese, or pigs. Rich or poor, every family had a vegetable patch, so buying groceries wasn't difficult at all.
In October, Xixiang was still lush and green, with plenty of radishes and greens growing in the fields. Nan Zhi easily picked up plenty of fresh, organic produce.
Some villagers recognized her as the eldest Nan son's girl, chopped off generous cuts of cured meat and cured sausage, and insisted on giving them to her without taking a single cent.
Zhang Qiuyu was utterly thrilled. She was a typical girl from Sichuan-Chongqing who had lived in the city since childhood, where concrete and steel created distance between people and neighborly bonds were thin.
Who knew that accompanying Nan Zhi back to Mulian Village would allow her to experience such simple, pure warmth and hospitality from the villagers?
“When my great-grandfather was still alive, he was a Badai master in the village. Whenever someone lost a cow, got bitten by a snake, or had their soul scared away, the villagers would seek him out for help.”
Nan Zhi walked ahead carrying the chicken and fish, explaining to Zhang Qiuyu:
“Even though my great-grandfather refused to teach all his skills to my Grandma, she was very smart and picked up quite a bit.
When I was little, people in the village would occasionally come to her for treatment. If a child choked on a fish bone or suffered from persistent diarrhea, they would come to my Grandma first.”
Back when Nan Zhi had fought with her Second Uncle, the villagers had actually helped her out in various ways. Even her university acceptance letter had been hidden from her Second Uncle and secretly delivered to her hands by someone in the village.
“That's amazing!”
Zhang Qiuyu's eyes lit up, and she pressed further with wide eyes:
“What a pity you didn't learn anything from her! I heard that those masters and Duan Gong from ethnic minority regions actually possess real supernatural abilities.”
“It couldn't be helped. Back then, my great-grandfather was almost denounced, so he didn't want my Grandma learning these things. My Grandma never went to school and was illiterate. After marrying my grandfather, she bore children and raised a family, never leaving these mountains her whole life.”
Nan Zhi's mood turned somber for a moment, but she patiently explained to her friend:
“Remember the tour guide Shi Hongjiang from this morning? He's Miao, and his grandfather is a pure Miao Badai master. If you're interested in this, I happen to be visiting his grandfather tomorrow, so you can come along.”
Zhang Qiuyu naturally agreed without hesitation.
"Badai" was actually a title similar to "Duan Gong" or "Shen Po." However, there were distinctions among Badai practitioners: a pure Miao Badai like Grandpa Shi was called a "Badai Xiong," while Badai masters who incorporated Han culture and used Taoist spells or other techniques were called "Badai Zha."
In the region of Xixiang, folk beliefs were especially intricate. Aside from Miao Badai, there were Gu masters, Grass Ladies, and Corpse Drivers.
When Nan Zhi was little, she had fallen asleep to these stories told by her Grandma. At the time, she felt like she was listening to fairy tales, never imagining that one day she would become one of them.
Perhaps speaking of people behind their backs really brought them forth—speak of the devil, and he shall appear.
When Nan Zhi and Zhang Qiuyu returned, they saw Shi Hongjiang standing in the yard holding two cotton quilts, giving directions to Zhang Qiuyu's husband on how to light the rustic stove:
“Aiya, your firewood is still damp—it won't light! Put some dry leaves underneath first!”
After a flurry of effort, Zhang Qiuyu's husband finally got the water boiling.
Noticing the two women, Shi Hongjiang greeted Nan Zhi with a grin:
“My Grandpa found out you were back and hadn't dropped by. He was so angry he slammed his cane and insisted I bring you home for dinner.
I guessed you wouldn't go to the county seat and would stay in the old house instead. Here, I brought you two quilts. Our village isn't like the city—it gets very damp at night, so bedding up thick makes for better sleep.”
Besides the quilts, he also brought some daily necessities, which solved their urgent needs.
“Has your family been taking care of my house all this time? Thank you.”
Nan Zhi guessed the truth immediately. Hearing that Grandpa Shi wanted her to come over for dinner, she couldn't help feeling a bit guilty:
“I planned to buy some gifts tomorrow before visiting Grandpa. Is his health still good?”
“Good? How could it not be good? It's fantastic! His beard is completely white, but he can still chase my Dad around with a cane. He's got more energy than I do!”
Shi Hongjiang ducked into the house, put down the quilts, and said casually:
“After Grandma Dao passed away, your Second Uncle's family moved to an apartment building in the city. My Grandpa told me to drop by regularly to sweep up the dust so no one would ruin the house. He always said you'd come back, and sure enough, you did!”
Saying that, he flashed a grin showing his bright white teeth and comforted Nan Zhi:
“Your Second Uncle is no good. Back then, he wanted to sell the old house to outsiders, and my Grandpa nearly broke his legs over it. My Grandpa said Grandma Dao made it clear that this house was meant for you alone.”
“I know. Grandma left this house to me, and no one can take it away. If Nan Fang dares to show up...”
Nan Zhi spoke softly, a gentle smile gracing her face. Though her tone was calm and measured, in the bright light of day, the three listeners suddenly felt an unexplainable, bone-chilling shudder.
Looking at the smiling Nan Zhi, all three scratched their heads in unison.
It must be an illusion.
Rate on N.U.
