According to Master Wang, although Qizhi has passed away, it doesn't mean that the matter is over. Yellow Skin may still continue to harm people. For safety reasons, he needs to perform a ritual to seal Yellow Skin's spirit inside Qizhi's body. Then they'll bury them together, deep beneath the yellow soil. Only then will the matter be considered resolved.

That night, a makeshift memorial hall was set up at Qizhi's house. Several wooden boards were erected with a layer of plastic sheeting covering them. Some white curtains were hung around, and thus a memorial hall was established.

As Qizhi was single and had no family, the funeral arrangements were quite simple. The village pooled money to quickly bring back a black wooden coffin from the town overnight. Then Qizhi's body was placed inside the coffin.

Qizhi's face was covered with yellow fur, and many children were too scared to watch as his body was placed into the coffin. Only I and the fat guy walked at the forefront, witnessing Qizhi being laid to rest inside the coffin.

The coffin was soon sealed shut, and two villagers hammered nails into it with a hammer.

According to rural customs, coffins must not touch the ground before burial. Because the ground belongs to the yin, and they fear that yin energy might seep into the coffin, which would be harmful to the deceased. Therefore, in rural memorial halls, it's common to see a coffin placed horizontally on two long benches instead of directly on the ground.

In front of the coffin was a brazier burning paper, with two white candles on either side, and a brick used for incense. Due to the suddenness of the event, Qizhi didn't even have a photo, and the arrangement in the memorial hall was very simple, giving a sense of desolation.

Mr. Yu led a few elders from the village into the memorial hall to burn some spirit money for Qizhi. Many villagers dared not enter; after all, Qizhi's death was not normal, and they were afraid of getting involved.

Mr. Yu asked me and the fat guy to kneel in front of the coffin and kowtow three times to Qizhi. I was very sincere, tears in my eyes, banging my head on the ground, resulting in a big bump on my forehead.

After the simple memorial ceremony, Master Wang entered the memorial hall and began the ritual. He untied the black cloth from his waist, pulled out a peach wood sword from his pocket, had someone bring in a bowl of rooster blood, then dipped the tip of the sword into the rooster blood. He walked around the coffin, waving the sword while chanting, leaving a series of blood-colored charms on the surface of the black wooden coffin.

Mr. Yu nodded in satisfaction. Seeing Master Wang's appearance, he seemed to be quite skilled.

Although we didn't understand the meaning of those charms, Master Wang's sword dance was quite agile, earning unanimous praise from us.

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The appearance fee of two thousand bucks was indeed a bit high, but if Master Wang could really help us settle this matter, then it would be money well spent.

Master Wang seemed a bit tired, with sweat all over his face. He sat down and panted heavily.

Seeing this, Mr. Yu quickly had someone cook a bowl of pocket eggs for Master Wang. The bowl contained five eggs, and Master Wang didn't hesitate to gobble them up.

Master Wang instructed Mr. Yu to leave two people to keep watch over the body tonight. By tomorrow night, when it's dark, they can carry the coffin out and bury it.

The fat guy and I volunteered to stand up and said we were willing to keep watch. We were very grateful to Qizhi, and regardless of the circumstances, Qizhi had always been our lifesaver. Now that Qizhi has passed away, we have nothing to repay him with. So, keeping vigil for him is considered our final farewell.

Mr. Yu initially disagreed, fearing that it might be dangerous for us two kids to stay here, as children have a weaker flame and are more susceptible to the intrusion of yin energy. So generally, children are prohibited from keeping vigil, for fear of accidents.

But we were very insistent, and seeing our firm attitude, Mr. Yu also spoke up for us, "Mr. Yu, let them stay to keep vigil. This is also a little token of appreciation from the two kids to Qizhi!"

Mr. Yu nodded, admonishing us to be careful and to follow Master Wang's instructions in everything we do.

After tossing and turning all night, the villagers gradually dispersed.

The rural nights are enveloped in an impenetrable darkness, punctuated only by the sporadic cawing of crows, engendering an increasing sense of desolation. Only three of us were left in the mourning hall - Wang Baochang, myself, and the one known as 'Fatty.' Wang Baochang, with his arms folded, slumbered deeply upon a chair, his legs nonchalantly hoisted onto another. His sonorous snoring echoed throughout the mourning hall. Fatty and I were huddled by the side of the fire brazier, vigilantly monitoring the flames and replenishing it with joss papers whenever it started to wane. This fire was not to be extinguished; its enduring glow was believed to serve as a guiding light for the souls of the departed, preventing them from aimlessly wandering and transforming into wandering spirits. These were the conventions bequeathed by our forebears, whose factual credibility was uncertain. We, the subsequent generations, have no alternative but to comply with these ancestral norms. The fire cast an eerie, unsettling glow across the mourning hall. The chilling winter wind infiltrated indoors, causing the candlelight to flicker. Instinctively, Fatty and I drew our collars taut against our necks in an attempt to ward off the cold. I offered an incense stick in memorial of Uncle Qi, and whilst doing so, conveyed to Fatty."

"Even though Uncle Qi has passed on, we should never forget the benevolence he has showered upon us. We ought to commemorate Uncle Qi's demise annually by visiting his gravesite, to present him with his favourite cigarettes and wines, along with a couple of incense sticks. Fatty signaled his agreement with a nod."

"Staying awake all night is indeed a daunting task. Asleep, you may find the night fleeting, with the breaking dawn just a blink of an eye away. Conversely, awake, the night can seem never-ending, and time, tortuously sluggish - hence the age-old saying, 'an endless night.' Halfway through the night, both Fatty and I started to flag. We slumped on the ground, propping ourselves against the wooden legs of the bench that held the coffin, stealing a few moments of shut-eye."

"In the confusing wilderness between being asleep and awake, I fancied hearing a peculiar, grating sound. Assuming it was Fatty grinding his teeth, I brushed it off with a grumble and sought to return to my slumber. However, the irritating grinding persisted, incessantly disturbing my tranquility."

"I rubbed the drowsiness from my eyes, only to find Fatty, deep in sleep beside me, his gleaming drool almost making a break for the floor. I nudged Fatty with a foot, stirring him from his sleep. He looked at me, befuddled, and questioned my intentions. When I pointed out the noise of him grinding his teeth, which was more typical of a rodent and exceedingly annoying, Fatty met my gaze with wide, innocent eyes and refuted, 'I wasn't grinding my teeth!'"

"Grating noises emerged again as Fatty was speaking. Simultaneously, Fatty and I turned deathly pale and swung our heads towards the direction of the coffin. It was now obvious to both of us, the grinding noises were coming from within the coffin...”

Last comes the role of the Polish Expert who will enhance the literary quality while maintaining the fidelity of the information.