The sickly driver was carried away by his family, and the crowd of onlookers outside the house thinned out considerably.
Occasionally, two or three tourists would wander in by mistake. Seeing Grandpa Shi’s kind face, they would pester him to give them a reading as well.
Grandpa Shi stared at their rosy faces for a long time before telling them to go to a pharmacy and buy a pack of digestive tablets.
They were just overstuffed.
He had already said he was a Badai, not a doctor.
He was in his eighties; they shouldn't be making fun of him.
...
The Oil Baba made by Auntie Shi still tasted like the memories of her childhood. Combined with a table set with sour soup barbel fish, cured meat stir-fried with sour bamboo shoots, chili-braised eel, fried river crabs, and home-brewed cherry wine, it was enough to make anyone’s mouth water.
Zhang Qiuyu and her husband, who were tagging along for the meal, didn't even have time to say a word. They kept their heads down, stuffing their faces with gusto.
The most mouth-watering dish was the blood-cake duck, made with duck blood and glutinous rice cakes stir-fried with spicy duck meat. Anyone who had tasted it would never forget the flavor.
“Grandpa, I’ll help myself. I’m not going to stand on ceremony in your house!”
Nan Zhi’s bowl of corn rice was piled high. Grandpa Shi and Auntie Shi kept urging her to eat more—Grandma Shi had passed away early, and Uncle Shi worked in the city, so there were usually only three people in the house year-round.
“It smells so good. When I was away, I kept thinking about this corn rice, the cured meat, and the sour fish. The stuff you buy outside just isn't authentic.”
“Then you should have said something. Your auntie smokes cured meat every year and always thinks about saving some for you, just waiting for you to come back and eat it during the New Year.”
Hearing Nan Zhi say this, Grandpa Shi’s eyes crinkled with joy. He watched the children eat with a look of pure affection, his aged face wrinkling happily; his smile lines hadn't faded once.
“Are you going to stay for a few extra days this time? If your grandmother knew down below, she’d definitely be happy too.”
At this point, the old man seemed to remember something. He slammed his cane heavily against the ground, the loose skin on his face trembling.
“Don't you worry about your second uncle’s family. You stay as long as you want. Before, you were still young and couldn't make your own decisions, but now I want to see who dares to lay a finger on you or that old house!”
The old man’s mood shifted so quickly that Zhang Qiuyu and her husband nearly choked. They couldn't swallow or spit out their food, so they could only look at Nan Zhi with uncertainty.
Nan Zhi sensed there was more to Grandpa Shi’s words and shot an inquiring look at Shi Hongjiang.
The latter finished his corn rice and wiped his mouth casually before explaining:
“Sister Zhi, you weren't in the village these past few years, so you don't know. Your second uncle’s family originally moved to the city to live in an apartment and planned to sell the old house, but my grandpa stopped them.
“He wasn't happy about it and went to the village party secretary. In the end, the secretary said the house should be split between your father and your second uncle. If your father didn't agree, the old house couldn't be sold.
“Your second uncle called your father, but your father didn't want to sell it either. He told your second uncle to discuss it with you. But your second uncle couldn't find you, so he could only make a scene with the village secretary. My grandpa gave him a good beating, and he ran off and hasn't been back since.
“Who knew he’d sneak back to the old house a while ago? He insisted that things from your grandmother’s house had been stolen.”
Shi Hongjiang looked disgusted as he spoke, the disdain written all over his face.
In the village, unless someone was truly unable to survive, very few were willing to sell their ancestral home.
Nan Zhi hadn't expected there to be such a situation. After she started university, she had timed her calls to Dao Magu specifically to avoid her second uncle’s family.
After Dao Magu passed away, she had simply changed her phone number twice, so her second uncle’s family naturally lost track of her.
“My second uncle wants to sell the old house? With the current market, small-property rights houses aren't even allowed to be bought or sold. At most, you can only sign a lease, and the rent is dirt cheap. Has he lost his mind?”
Nan Zhi hadn't expected that her biological father, who hadn't cared about her for years, would actually do something decent. But she was more concerned about why Nan Fang wanted to sell the house.
“My grandma and grandpa’s graves are both on the mountain. If he sells the old house, where will he go for the Qingming and Ghost Festivals?
“Besides, when my grandma passed away, didn't their family snatch everything? There shouldn't be anything left in that old house.”
“It’s because of the rumors. More and more people have been collecting old things these past two years. Someone heard that your great-grandfather was a Badai, so they’re offering high prices for the old items in your house.
“A while back, Chu Erpang’s family had a small stone figure that someone bought for two thousand yuan. Your second uncle is the type to fall into a money trap; how could he not be tempted?”
Shi Hongjiang said dismissively:
“When he came back last time, he insisted your grandmother had a few antiques that were worth a lot of money. But he searched the entire old house and couldn't find anything. He even called the police and the village secretary, making a huge fuss at your place for a long time. It was incredibly annoying.”
Antiques?
Nan Zhi took a sip of cherry wine and asked as if casually, “Are there really that many people coming to our village to buy old things?”
“Plenty. People buying snake gall and fritillaries, people buying medicinal herbs... why wouldn't there be? Even the city museum sent people to interview Grandpa. They filmed him doing an extract the black and gave him five hundred yuan.”
Shi Hongjiang made an exaggerated gesture and winked at her.
“And plenty of people come to the village to buy antiques. They buy the strangest things. Someone even offered twenty thousand yuan for the longevity wood in our house.
“Some people heard my grandpa is a Badai and wanted to buy his ritual horns and clothes. Don't you think that’s strange?”
Longevity wood was actually the coffin prepared for an elder. The Miao people had a simple view of life and death and did not fear it, so if a family had an elder, they would prepare the burial shroud and coffin in advance and keep them at home.
Dao Magu had been buried in the coffin she had prepared for herself.
Nan Zhi understood perfectly.
It seemed there were plenty of clever people in the world.
With the changes in the world and the numerous supernatural events occurring everywhere, even if the authorities didn't say anything, the public would notice something was off.
Aside from the authorities recording folk arts, some sensitive individuals had also begun to make extensive contact with such things.
“My grandma did leave me a small cauldron. I don't know if it’s the kind of antique they’re talking about, but I’m keeping it as a memento. I definitely won't sell it.
“Grandpa, you should keep all your things too. Don't sell them. Even if you don't leave them as family heirlooms for A-Jiang, it’s good to keep them as a memory for future generations.”
Nan Zhi spoke with a smile, testing the waters:
“Grandpa, that cauldron doesn't look like something from our Miao village. Was it left behind by my great-grandfather?”
“I told you, you can't sell things left by the ancestors. Your second uncle’s family just wouldn't listen. That unfilial, sinful family will get their retribution sooner or later.
“If this were back in our day, anyone who dared to sell the ancestral house to outsiders would have had their ears cut off and their eyes gouged out—”
Grandpa Shi was full of vigor as he spat out a string of dialect curses. Only after he had cursed his fill did he have time to answer Nan Zhi’s question:
“You don't know this, but someone in your great-grandmother’s family was a Taoist. I heard they used to be wealthy and had many good things, though a lot was lost during those times.
“That small cauldron should be an old piece. In the past, when someone in our village got sick, your great-grandfather would scrape some elixir residue from it for us to eat. After eating it, we’d have a bit of a nosebleed, but the cold would be gone by the next day.”
Rate on N.U.
