The woman's eyes looked like two cloudy glass balls.
The gray hue was permeated with the aura of death, filled with endless resentment and hatred, coldly watching everything around it.
Luckily, I don't know fear, otherwise just looking into those eyes would scare my soul away.
I tried to cover the woman's eyelids with my hands, but I found that I couldn't close them no matter what I did.
Even if you force it to close, it will open it immediately.
I've seen this before.
When I was five years old, a bricklayer living at the edge of the village saw his wife cheating on him. He fought with the adulterer and ended up having his head chopped off by the adulterer with a sickle.
When my grandfather was stitching up his neck, he couldn't close his eyes no matter what.
However, my grandfather was there at the time, and this was the first time I had encountered it on my own.
I followed my grandfather's example and used a strategy of politeness first, then force.
First, they mixed a small pinch of tea leaves with incense ash and sprinkled it on the female corpse's eyelids, then stuffed a coin into her mouth.
Seeing that her eyes were still open, I raised my hand and slapped the female corpse's face several times.
"You damned woman, you're already dead and you still can't stay still. What are you doing causing trouble here? If you have grievances or complaints, that's your business."
"If you were murdered, go find the bastard who killed you, or go find that old Liu who ruined you, don't fucking bother us poor working folks."
"I've been offering you the best wine and meat, haven't I been more than generous? Don't push your luck."
"If you dare to cause trouble again, I'll go find the King of Hell and have him rip your tongue out by the roots, then chain you to the bottom of hell so you'll never be reincarnated, you filthy bitch!"
In short, I'll say whatever hurtful things I can think of.
Strangely enough, the eyes that I couldn't close no matter what I did before slowly closed right after I finished cursing.
Just as Grandpa said.
Humans are three parts afraid of ghosts, but ghosts are seven parts afraid of humans.
If it's fierce, you have to be fiercer than it!
As the female corpse slowly closed her eyes, Su Mingyang seemed to wake up from a nightmare, and shuddered violently.
His gaze gradually cleared from its initial confusion.
He looked down at the still-burning incense stick in his hand, bewildered: "How did this wine bottle turn into incense? Am I really that dedicated?"
I was just about to say that you were messed with by that female corpse.
Before he could finish speaking, the sound of a suona horn suddenly came from outside, sounding particularly abrupt in the quiet night.
The sound of the suona startled Su Mingyang so much that he almost dropped the incense in his hand.
But after listening carefully for a while, we could tell.
This is "Crying at the Fifth Watch," a suona tune commonly played during funeral processions.
"Strange, whose funeral is taking place so late at night?"
As he spoke, Su Mingyang stuck the unburnt incense stick in his hand into the incense burner, stood up, patted his bottom, and went out to watch the excitement.
I got up and followed him, not out of curiosity, but simply because I wanted some fresh air.
Earlier, when Su Mingyang was sleepwalking, he lit several sticks of incense, and now the morgue is filled with smoke, making it hard for me to breathe.
Before leaving, I glanced back at the female corpse in the coffin.
The eyes were closed perfectly, and the incense had just been replaced; it wouldn't be finished burning in less than half an hour.
As soon as I stepped out of the morgue, the warmth inside was instantly drained away, replaced by the biting, icy wind from the roadside.
The funeral home where I work is not in a remote area; it is surrounded by residential buildings.
It's only one in the morning. Normally, the house isn't brightly lit, but there are still about twenty or thirty households with their lights on.
Especially for young people renting apartments, it's common for the lights to stay on until dawn.
But now not a single light is on.
I looked back at the morgue; the dim, yellowish light seemed rather eerie in the darkness.
"Strange, why did it suddenly get foggy?"
I looked back, and it really was.
Everything was fine just now, but suddenly a white mist rose up all around us.
Amidst the thick white mist, a group of figures could be seen appearing and disappearing.
The melody of "Crying at the Fifth Watch" became clearer and clearer, with the sound of the suona (a traditional Chinese wind instrument) sounding like weeping and lamenting.
"This funeral procession must have taken the wrong route. If they were to leave the city, they should be heading towards Jiaosan Bridge. How did they end up at Qinglong Mountain?"
Su Mingyang smacked his lips, took out a cigarette, put it in his mouth, and squinted at the other side.
I also find it strange.
Jiaosan Bridge was originally named "Jiaosang Bridge".
Legend has it that Jiaosan Bridge is the place where the three realms meet. When a hearse passes through here, it means that the soul leaves the human world from this place and goes to the place it should go. Therefore, funeral processions usually make a round here.
As we talked, the group ahead gradually emerged from the white mist and slowly approached us.
At first, it was just a blurry outline, but as the distance closed, their clothing and appearance became discernible.
A group of people dressed in red wedding attire slowly walked towards them from a distance.
Not a funeral procession?
Su Mingyang and I were both taken aback.
Having worked in this industry for so long, I've never seen anyone use funeral music at a wedding.
Where is this custom from?
Leading the procession were two rows of ceremonial guards dressed in bright red wedding attire, carrying suona horns and gongs. Behind them followed a little boy who looked about seven or eight years old.
He was dressed in a bright red brocade children's outfit, wearing a small red round hat, and holding the photo frame with reverence in his hands.
Behind the child were two rows of men and women dressed in bright red wedding attire, carrying lanterns, numbering around several dozen.
The man wore a black gauze hat, and the woman wore an elaborate hairstyle.
Further on, eight sedan chair bearers carried a giant sedan chair.
The sedan chair was as red as blood, and the dragon and phoenix patterns on its body were exquisite, with the dragon scales and phoenix feathers lifelike.
But the eyes of the dragon and phoenix exuded an evil aura, staring straight ahead.
The sedan chair curtain was made of dark red silk embroidery, covered with mantras for rebirth in the Pure Land.
As the group drew closer, Su Mingyang and I could clearly see that their feet were dangling in the air, their heels slightly raised, and their bodies moved lightly in mid-air like ghosts.
This is not a living person!
Holy crap!
Su Mingyang screamed in agony, his teeth chattering uncontrollably, and his body trembled violently.
A ghost wedding procession!
My grandfather once mentioned that a ghost welcoming a bride is considered very unlucky.
If you encounter this, immediately lower your head and stare intently at the ground; you absolutely cannot make eye contact with it even for a moment.
Because the ghost wedding procession is full of vengeful spirits and vengeful ghosts with terrifyingly heavy resentment.
If you make eye contact with them, it's like writing your name in the Book of Life and Death of the King of Hell; you'll be dragged into their ranks and never be able to escape.
Just as I was about to do so, I caught a glimpse of the little boy walking at the front out of the corner of my eye.
His face was covered with thick powder, but his cheeks were painted with bright red blush, and his face showed a distorted expression that was neither a smile nor a cry.
Strangely enough, I saw a sense of familiarity in his distorted expression.
The black and white photograph he was holding was particularly striking.
The photo shows a large mourning couplet with the character "奠" (meaning "to pay respects").
Below the character “奠” is a photo of a little boy who looks to be a few years old.
My pupils suddenly contracted!
This photo was taken when I was five years old!
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