In such a mountain village, news spreads quickly.

When I arrived at Zheng Jun's house, I saw many people gathered outside the door, and inside the house came the heart-wrenching wails of Zheng Jun's mother.

The saddest thing in the world is a parent burying their child.

A son raised for over a decade suddenly gone, as a mother, the pain is unbearable.

Zheng Jun's body lay in the hall, and in the hall were two long benches with a black lacquered coffin placed on them, the lacquer still fresh, obviously just bought.

In our customs, after someone dies, they stay in the house for three days, so the coffin lid wasn't closed, and Zheng Jun lay inside. Perhaps to prevent people from being scared by his appearance, Zheng Jun's face and body were covered with a white cloth, with only a pair of darkened feet exposed.

Behind the coffin was a table, and in the center of the table was Zheng Jun's black and white photograph, with candles burning on both sides, and a basin below burning paper.

Zheng Jun's father knelt by the basin, his face pale, silent, and a relative stood beside him, apparently having knelt for a long time.

I originally wanted to light incense for Zheng Jun, but seeing his father's state, I didn't dare to approach, just circled the coffin.

The atmosphere in the room was very oppressive, and because Zheng Jun's grandfather was a village cadre, many people came to pay their respects. Almost the entire village came, and I was soon pushed out, stumbling at the threshold and falling to the ground.

As I was about to get up, I suddenly caught sight of something on the beam above the hall.

A snake!

It was that little jade snake again!

It was coiled on the beam, raising its head slightly, as if looking at me.

My heart skipped a beat. How did this little snake come to Zheng's house?

Zheng Jun's inexplicable suicide couldn't have anything to do with this little snake, could it?

The little snake saved our lives, it wouldn't harm Zheng Jun!

Just as I was lost in thought, a hand pulled me up. It was Fatty.

Fatty pulled me to the corner, and I asked him why he was here. He said he had heard about Zheng Jun's death and came to see.

I told him there was nothing to see; everything was covered with white cloth. But Fatty nervously asked, "Yang Cheng, don't you think something's wrong? Since last night, after coming back from Ghost Cry Gully, Zheng Jun died inexplicably. I can't think of a reason for his suicide, so I suspect... maybe he provoked something unclean last night!"

I shuddered. "We all went to Ghost Cry Gully last night. According to you, wouldn't we all have provoked something unclean?"

Fatty nervously rubbed his hands. "That's why I'm worried. Who will be the next to die?"

Fatty's words made me very uncomfortable. I didn't want to continue talking to him, so I hurried back home.

On the way, whether it was due to psychological shadow or not, I always felt like there was something unclean following me. Every few steps, I couldn't help but look back.

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Both Grandpa and Dad weren't at home, only Mom was busy in the kitchen, stewing an old hen for me, telling me to drink more soup to replenish my body.

"Grandpa and your dad are waiting for you in the ancestral hall. After dinner, you go to the ancestral hall!" Mom said.

"Why go to the ancestral hall?" I put down my bowl and wiped the oil from the corner of my mouth.

"I heard it was at the request of Lame Ku. He wants you kids to all go to the ancestral hall tonight!" Mom walked over to tidy up the bowls and chopsticks.

"To go where? What are we avoiding?" I asked strangely.

Mom glared at me. "Why so many useless questions? If you're told to go, just go quickly. Do you still want to keep your little life?"

When Mom said this, her eyes turned red again. I didn't want to see her so sad, so I said I would go immediately, then hurried to the ancestral hall at the end of the village.

At the end of the village, there was an ancestral hall, where our ancestors were worshiped.

During festivals or Qingming and Zhongyuan festivals, people from the village would go to the ancestral hall to pay their respects.

For minor ailments or prayers for safety, the villagers would also go to the ancestral hall to pray to the ancestors for blessings. So the ancestral hall always had incense burning, becoming a place with a lot of spiritual energy.

In the twilight, this quaint ancestral hall appeared somewhat old and dilapidated, and a few crows stood on the roof, giving people a sense of foreboding.

There were many people gathered at the entrance of the ancestral hall, all yesterday's companions and their elders, all with sorrowful expressions.

I asked my dad what we were doing, and he told me not to ask too much. Whatever Lame Ku asked us to do, we would do.

Standing in the middle was Old Man Yu, my grandfather, and among them was Lame Ku, leaning on a crutch.

In remote mountainous areas like ours, strange things often happen, so almost every village has a half-mystic who can manipulate yin and yang. Lame Ku is such a figure, renowned in the surrounding area.

It is said that many years ago, Lame Ku was an ordinary peasant. After suffering from a strange illness, he recovered with the ability to communicate with the spirit world, but his left leg inexplicably became lame.

Thanks to the rumors spread by gossiping women, Lame Ku's reputation grew, and he became famous.

But for people like Lame Ku, I didn't really believe in them.

Lame Ku was about fifty or sixty years old, with a stern face, and sat on a chair in front of us, asking us about last night's situation one by one.

We didn't dare to conceal anything. One by one, we honestly confessed our whereabouts last night, including going to Ghost Cry Gully and encountering the ghost opera. We spilled everything like beans.