I have a very good friend who, after graduating from medical school, inherited a substantial fortune from his parents—enough to last a lifetime without ever working. He has little interest in romantic pursuits or luxury; instead, he is passionate about collecting bizarre and curious stories. He spends most of his time traveling, rarely at home, and has no other friends. To others, he might seem like an oddity, but I, too, am a seeker of the strange. That's why he always shares with me the peculiar joys he encounters. Just recently, he called to tell me he was back from his travels, bringing along many fresh and intriguing tales. I rushed over immediately, as I was on a year-long sabbatical, and decided to move into his family estate, Hollow Manor. Every evening, we sit by the fire as he recounts one of the strange stories he's gathered, perfect for a chilling night at Hollow Manor.

While enjoying his cigarette, my friend enigmatically held up his index finger for my inspection. "Observe, the index finger symbolizes human greed, as the impulse to consume is our most elemental and ancient craving. Have you ever wondered why it's referred to as the 'index finger'? Ancient lore suggests that this finger would twitch at the sight of appetizing food, hence the expression 'the index finger is greatly moved.' Allow me to share a tale concerning this very finger," he remarked, snuffing out his cigarette before launching into his narrative.

I once resided with a family in a quaint town in the southwest, home to a lively elderly gentleman who told me this tale. In the Republic of China period, a girl's chances of a favorable marriage were contingent on her having a slender figure, particularly around the waist. Some families were known to have stringent standards, precise to the millimeter (I couldn't help but chuckle, "That seems rather extreme"). The slimmer the girl, the more attractive she was deemed, contrary to the Tang Dynasty's idealization of a fuller figure. Possibly out of a revulsion for pigs, a notion developed that being overweight was hideous. Consequently, girls would deprive themselves of food to maintain a fragile, willow-like silhouette that fluttered with every step.

Among these young women was one named Xiu. Once she grasped that her marital prospects inversely correlated with her waist size, she eschewed meat and even shunned starchy foods. Fate, however, appeared to mock her efforts. Despite her regimen of continuous exercise and a diet limited to fruits, Xiu inexplicably continued to gain weight. It might have been a genetic predisposition or perhaps an ailment, though contemporary observers did not view it that way. The slimmer girls ridiculed her as a pig reborn, and her family's disappointment grew as her chances of a prosperous marriage dwindled, to the point where even the poorest local family, the Laosi, might spurn her.

Speaking of the Laosi, their connection to Xiu's family was tenuous, like hair on the head—abundant yet shedding daily. However, Laosi's son, Min, and Xiu were childhood playmates. But once Xiu resolved to marry into wealth, she severed ties with Min. Nonetheless, Min continued to cherish her memory. Now, with her parents eager to marry her off to avoid the shame of her remaining unmarried, they disregarded her preferences. After all, they considered daughters plentiful.

Min, though impoverished and clad in threadbare yet clean garments, was strikingly handsome. When Xiu's father broached the topic of marriage with Laosi, they consented immediately, and the entire array of matrimonial proceedings—from proposal to engagement to the wedding feast—was expedited in a record-setting day.

Xiu harbored deep-seated resentment but was left with no alternatives. Failing to marry soon meant even Min might disdain her eventually. Despite this, her husband adored her, and she managed to adapt.

Ironically, or perhaps influenced by the feng shui or her emotional state, Xiu began shedding weight swiftly after relocating to Laosi's residence, eventually gaining repute as a local beauty. Regrettably, she was already wed, yet this did not deter numerous suitors. In this community, the sanctity of first or subsequent marriages was disregarded, with wives merely regarded as vehicles for childbirth and enhancers of familial feng shui.

Xiu grew increasingly unsettled and resolved against having children, much to Min's distress. He realized that without offspring, he could not secure her presence. Could children have assured her stay? Xiu ceased performing household duties, instead spending her days socializing, shopping, or visiting affluent homes—hardly the conduct expected of a poor man's wife.

Min recognized that her newfound slimness was the root cause. Only if Xiu regained weight would she truly settle down again.

Before long, Xiu did indeed gain weight, and life reverted to its old patterns. She resented her fate, while Min surreptitiously relished it, outwardly sharing her complaints to provide solace.

As years unfurled like the threads on a loom, decades passed. Xiu bore several children and abandoned her earlier aspirations, settling into her life with Min until their daughter Yue'er came of age.

Yue'er was exceptionally beautiful, inheriting the finest qualities of both parents. Nonetheless, she too was perpetually neither too slim nor too plump, sometimes even slightly robust—hardly considered overweight by modern standards. Yet Xiu, determined not to let her daughter repeat her own missteps, began regulating Yue'er's diet early on, though with limited success. As Yue'er neared sixteen, her waist notably exceeded that of her peers, plunging Xiu into sleepless anxiety.

Observing his wife's distress and the dark circles under her eyes, Min decided enough time had elapsed to disclose the truth.

One restless night, as they lay in bed with Xiu tossing and turning, Min turned her towards him and earnestly inquired, "Do you understand why you suddenly lost weight after we married?"

Confused, Xiu shook her head, prompting her query, "Why?"

"It was my doing. Though our family lacks wealth, we possess knowledge of a method to reduce one's weight. It's a forbidden technique, passed down through generations. If misapplied, it invites retribution, the nature of which remains unclear. Upon your arrival at our home, I employed this technique on you, and later, when you contemplated departure, I discontinued it, leading to your weight gain," Min explained with solemnity.

Xiu, no longer prone to anger and having suspected her husband's role in her fluctuating weight, was intrigued by this arcane method. "The past is the past; I hold no grudges. But we must not delay any further with Yue'er. I desire for her to marry well. Explain quickly!"

Min, initially hesitant, eventually raised his index finger, clarifying, "It involves the finger."

"The finger? What does that mean?" Xiu inquired, puzzled. Min elaborated that centuries earlier, during a famine, their ancestors had compassionately sheltered a beggar. This beggar, however, was no ordinary vagrant but a wandering Taoist priest from Maoshan, disguised to assess the benevolence of the populace. Recognizing the kindness of Min's forebears, he imparted several spells to them. Although most of these spells had been lost over generations, the weight-loss spell curiously persisted. Since then, however, Min's family had faced decline, likely linked to the numerous taboos associated with deploying Maoshan spells. The prohibitions of Maoshan are extensive, and transgressions could result in minor misfortunes such as financial ruin or major calamities, including bloody disasters that could even span generations. It's presumed that Min's ancestors had improperly utilized the spells for nefarious ends, inviting retribution.

Regarding the spell, Min informed Xiu that simply ingesting one's own index fingernail could suffice. Yet, the spell's efficacy was transient, lasting only a few years at best, and the degree of weight loss achievable was finite. Excessive use could evoke dire consequences. As the spell was merely for weight reduction, Min's family seldom resorted to it, though Min's father had instructed him in its application.

"No wonder you were always so eager to assist me with my nails," Xiu remarked, her voice tinged with an odd inflection. Feeling slightly embarrassed, Min caressed his wife's face, admitting, "It's because I cherish you."

"Let it go, I'm no longer upset. Apply the spell tomorrow, and let's help Yue'er slim down swiftly."

Min nodded in agreement, and the couple settled into a peaceful slumber.

Indeed, it wasn't long before Yue'er slimmed down significantly, becoming renowned as the most radiant and vibrant young woman for miles around. Neighbors lauded Min and Xiu for nurturing such an exceptional daughter, certain she would secure a prosperous marriage. The couple beamed with pride.

However, tragedy loomed as the region's wealthiest family sought a daughter-in-law. This was the family previously noted for measuring prospective brides' weight and waistlines to exacting standards. Naturally, Xiu encouraged Yue'er to seize this opportunity. Regrettably, Yue'er was marginally overweight, despite being the lightest candidate. The affluent family declared that if no suitable match emerged within a week, they would seek a bride elsewhere. Driven by her ambition for Yue'er to join this family, Xiu urged Min to reapply the spell. Reluctantly, Min recounted, "Are you familiar with Dai Zong, the legendary courier from ancient tales? They say that like spells, there exist varying degrees of potency. Allegedly, once a courier, delayed in delivering a message and fearing reprimand, was taught by a compassionate Taoist priest to pierce the soles of his feet with silver needles, endure the pain, and release impure blood, enabling him to traverse three hundred miles by day and night. This indeed proved effective. Later, the courier sought even faster methods from the priest, who advised that removing the knee bones would allow him to travel two thousand miles continuously, day and night. The courier, horrified, fled."

"Why share this story with me?" Xiu queried, perplexed.

"I wish to convey that if you desire Yue'er to further slim down, the cost will exceed a mere fingernail," Min expressed with concern. Xiu, after a prolonged silence, steadfastly resolved to advance her daughter's prospects with the affluent family. Upon consulting Yue'er, who eagerly wished to fulfill her mother's aspirations and alleviate their financial hardships, consented without hesitation. Yet, this time, the requirement was for Yue'er to consume her own index finger.

The affluent family was indifferent to a missing finger, provided other criteria were met. They rationalized the missing digit as a childhood injury. Consequently, Yue'er, steeling herself, severed her index finger and ingested it. Remarkably, by the following day, Yue'er had visibly lost weight. Once her wound healed, she promptly visited the wealthy family's estate. The family patriarch, initially anxious, was thrilled upon seeing Yue'er and swiftly arranged the marriage. The issue of the finger gradually faded from memory, and tranquility seemingly returned. Min and Xiu, benefiting from the wealthy family's financial support, led a comfortable existence. Although warfare engulfed the Central Plains at the time, their locality remained an untouched idyll.

Regrettably, not long after settling into her new home, Yue'er conceived and bore a son, initially perceived as a blessing. However, her body soon began to swell uncontrollably, resembling an inflating balloon. Her in-laws, puzzled by her abrupt weight gain, informed Min and Xiu that while a slight post-marital weight increase was acceptable, Yue'er's condition was becoming intolerably severe for someone of her status. If her weight gain persisted, they resolved to annul the marriage.

Distraught, Xiu sought Min's assistance. After considerable contemplation and research, Min deduced that significant blood loss during childbirth could negate the spell. Xiu had already gained weight during Yue'er's delivery, a detail Min had overlooked, indicating the spell's dissolution. Confronted with these circumstances, Xiu, witnessing her daughter's dramatic expansion, tearfully reproached Min: "Even if she were to revert to her original form, our daughter shouldn't have to endure this!"

Min explained that once a spell is nullified, the body reacts as if a long-suppressed spring has been suddenly released. Furthermore, given the nutrient-rich nature of the postpartum period, even average individuals are prone to weight gain.

"Irrespective, if this continues, our family's standing here will be untenable, and my grandson, Xiu's son, will be estranged from us. Can you accept that?"

Min, clutching his head and observing his tearful daughter and wife, finally declared with difficulty, "The spell can be performed once more. However..."

"Spare me the conditions. I'll sacrifice anything to rescue our daughter," Xiu implored, tears streaming, as Yue'er knelt, pleading with her father.

"I'm uncertain of the repercussions, as even our forebears never repeatedly enacted the spell in this manner. They consistently cautioned descendants that excessive use of the spell invites divine wrath."

"Perhaps the priest merely intimidated you. You mentioned that it's untested, so how can you be sure of divine retribution?" Xiu countered. Min, rendered speechless, ultimately consented to apply the spell one final time.

This instance required not merely Yue'er's finger, but the index fingers of both Min and Xiu, acknowledging the unseen bond between children and parents. If one party transfers certain ailments or afflictions, they can be transmitted to the other. Consequently, Yue'er ingested the index fingers her parents had severed. Enduring acute pain, Min and Xiu ensured their daughter was comfortably asleep. The couple vigilantly remained awake throughout the night beside her, apprehensive of potential adverse outcomes, yet everything proceeded smoothly. By morning, Yue'er had regained her pre-marital physique, resembling a youthful maiden. Reassured, the couple accompanied Yue'er back to her in-laws' residence, where her husband and relatives, surprised yet pleased by her transformation, warmly welcomed them. Min and Xiu returned home to recuperate.

However, in the depths of the subsequent night, as Min and Xiu were deeply asleep, their in-laws urgently dispatched a messenger to announce a death, urging Min and Xiu to hasten to their side. It emerged that Yue'er had perished abruptly that evening, her demise shockingly gruesome. Upon receiving this news, Xiu collapsed unconscious. Left with no alternative, Min proceeded alone to identify the body. As he approached, his mind blank, he was led like a zombie into the scene. Grappling with his daughter's sudden departure was excruciating for him. Yet, upon viewing Yue'er's remains, which he hesitantly referred to as a 'body,' he nearly lost consciousness himself.

Yue'er's corpse appeared savagely mauled, as if by some beast, devoid of intact flesh and nearly skeletal. Traces of her struggle extended nearly two meters from the bed to the floor, with blood and tissue strewn about. Yue'er's head was elevated, her hand outstretched towards the door, likely attempting to reach it after tumbling from the bed, but she had managed only a few meters before succumbing, presumably enduring severe agony in her final moments. Min was bewildered—was this the retribution he had dreaded? Observing his daughter's remains, he collapsed to the ground, overwhelmed with grief as tears streamed down his face.

Due to the dreadful nature of her death and the strict reputation of the wealthy family, only a select few were privy to the true circumstances surrounding Yue'er's demise. Publicly, it was declared that the young mistress had succumbed to a sudden illness. The wealthy family provided Min and Xiu with a substantial sum of money, urging them to relocate. Overcome with guilt about the real cause of her daughter's horrific death, Xiu later took her own life. Min vanished from public view.

It is believed that Maoshan Taoism inherently involves spells of exorcism and transference. Practitioners might transfer objects like food or inflictions such as pain from others to themselves. It's likely that the spell used by Min involved transferring the bodily condition from one person to another. Every spell carries its risks, and repeated use of this spell ultimately led to divine retribution, tragically affecting Min's own family. Yue'er's dreadful end was the backlash of the spell. In Buddhism, among the six realms, there is a category of spirits known as hungry ghosts. These entities are tiny, akin to ants, yet numerous. Having suffered starvation in life, they become ghosts that devour everything in death. The index finger, representing human appetite, becomes a symbolic conduit in this spell. Consuming one's own index finger essentially forms a pact with these hungry ghosts. They assist by consuming unwanted body fat and flesh, but if the pact is not managed or is overused, they will consume the individual entirely.

As my friend concluded the tale told by the old man, he leaned closer and whispered, "After hearing the old man's story, I couldn't help but caress my own index finger, pondering if consuming it would truly lead to weight loss. As I mulled this over, the old man gave a slight smile, stood up, and walked away. I noticed he was missing his index finger on one hand. Later inquiries revealed that nobody recognized the old man, suggesting he appeared post-liberation, and he was simply known as Uncle Min."

I listened, mouth agape. Like my friend, I gently stroked my own index finger, suddenly recalling an ant swarm I had seen days earlier, and felt a shiver. Seeing me lost in thought, my friend playfully slapped my shoulder, laughing, "Don't worry, some things are meant to be or not; they shouldn't be forced by human efforts."

"Well, that's not necessarily true, we can shape our own destinies, don't just resign to fate," I replied with a smile.

My friend glanced at me, his expression turning mysteriously solemn, "Have you heard the story of 'Half-Face'?"

"No," I said, gazing at him as his face momentarily adopted an eerie, almost sculpted appearance.

"Let's save that for tomorrow. Look, the sun's already rising," he suddenly returned to his usual demeanor, pointing towards the sunrise outside the window. With no other option, I suppressed my curiosity, deciding to retire and resume our conversation the following night.