Corpses? Three corpses? Zhang Qing's words made no sense to me. That was a photo of my grandparents and parents; what did they have to do with any corpses?
Sensing my displeasure, Zhang Qing hurried to explain that the bodies he found in the deep forest looked exactly like the people in the photograph.
"That's nonsense! How is that possible?" I pointed at my grandfather in the picture and said, "This is my grandfather. He left home just yesterday. How can you say he's some corpse from the deep woods?"
"Is that Tang Yun?" Zhang Qing looked at the photograph, his brow furrowing as if deep in thought.
Meanwhile, the cold wind was intensifying, making the doors and windows clap loudly. The whistling sound outside seemed like wails of ghosts, and many shadowy figures lingered at the windows appearing neither human nor animal and were eerily unsettling.
My back was soaked with cold sweat. I urged Zhang Qing to postpone any other discussions and focus on dealing with these 'dirty things' first. As long as I was alive, I promised to provide him with the ghost tattoo he sought.
"Agreed, as long as I live, I will ensure your safety!" Zhang Qing said, taking out a stack of yellow talismans from his backpack and affixing them to the doors and windows.
The cold wind couldn't penetrate anymore, and outside, the shadows continued to linger.
As the night progressed, Zhang Qing mentioned that on the Ghost Festival, the spirits are very hungry, eager for sustenance, and they will not easily depart. I wondered if we could appease them by burning offerings, but Zhang Qing disagreed, saying my nameless offerings wouldn't be received. He emphasized that the only way was to stay put until daylight.
As twilight approached midnight, the presence of the spirits felt more oppressive, their forms darkening the windows. I felt the urge to let my grandfather in as I heard his voice outside.
Zhang Qing then placed a copper coin in my mouth to ward off evil spirits and prevent me from acting on any illusory impulses to open the door.
When Zhang Qing warned that he had never seen so many spirits before, dread filled me. The talismans sparked; they could no longer contain the spirits clamoring outside, numbering, as he estimated, around a thousand.
Then, as a talisman exploded and the door swung open, countless ghastly faces confronted me, all grinning menacingly.
My grandfather showed up just in time, sealing the door and warning the spirits not to harm me, threatening retribution if they dared.
The threats appeared to work, as everything quieted down for over an hour. Peeking outside, I saw the shadowy figures vanish, revealing a headless body near the door, which wore tattered clothes and a significant tattoo—the Nine Dragons Coffin, an absolute taboo in the world of tattoo art, featuring forbidden black dragons.
Upon seeing this, Zhang Qing was amazed, as only those with immense fate and courage could dare to bear such a tattoo. Black dragons were considered particularly malevolent.
As I recognized this figure as my grandfather, anguish overwhelmed me. But to our shock, the headless corpse spoke, insisting that my grandfather was not dead—a bewildering and chilling occurrence, even for me, his grandson.