So, the question is, who do those eyes underwater belong to? Is it a person? Or something else?

And what's the deal with those women's red sandals? How did they end up on Er Gou's feet?

Er Gou's mother took off the red sandals and threw them on the riverbank. Everyone had left, and only the red sandals remained, lying alone in the mud, looking even more eerie.

Perhaps influenced by this incident, Fatso and I felt heavy-hearted until the moon rose above the branches before we slowly made our way to Xie Qiang's house.

In the main room, a small round table had already been set up, with a large bowl of deep-fried small fish and some small river shrimps mixed in. It smelled delicious. There was a dipping dish with chili powder on the side, as well as a few bottles of chilled beer.

Deep-fried small fish and shrimp were the favorite food of us rural children. These fish and shrimp were natural, not too big, and didn't have specific species. We called these fish "miscellaneous fish" or "ma fish." The term "miscellaneous" described the variety of fish, and "ma" described their small size.

When we caught these fish, we simply cleaned them, rinsed them, coated them with flour, and fried them in hot oil. When eating, we would fry them again in the hot oil, making them fragrant and crispy. We didn't even need to remove the fish bones because they were so crunchy. The bones and scales were delicious, making a satisfying crunching sound when bitten. It was the perfect dish to accompany alcohol.

Xie Qiang came out of the kitchen, untied his apron, and asked why we were late.

I told Xie Qiang about Er Gou's drowning incident, but Xie Qiang didn't seem to have much of a reaction. He just invited us to drink and eat.

Before the primary school graduation exam, Fatso and I failed because we got drunk.

In theory, we should have detested alcohol, but unfortunately, after a short period of reflection, we ended up liking it even more.

People in the mountains are naturally a bit wild, and with the influence of some ethnic minorities living there, everyone's habits influence each other. In our village, almost everyone, young and old, drinks alcohol. It's not a rare occurrence.

We quickly finished our bottle of chilled beer each. Drinking chilled beer on a hot day, there was only one word to describe it: refreshing!

I munched on the deep-fried small fish, urging Xie Qiang to bring more alcohol from the inner room.

Xie Qiang stood up and walked into the inner room. Fatso curiously asked, "Hey, what's wrong with Brother Qiang's foot? Did he injure himself? Why is he limping and walking in such an odd posture?"

I looked up and saw Xie Qiang carrying a few bottles of beer as he walked out of the inner room. His walking posture was indeed strange and unnatural. His limbs seemed uncoordinated, as if he were walking on tiptoes.

"Brother Qiang, what happened to your foot? Are you okay?" I also felt that Xie Qiang's walking posture was strange.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Xie Qiang didn't answer me. He sat down across from me, holding the beer and inviting us to continue drinking.

I couldn't help but feel something was off. So, I pretended to accidentally drop my chopsticks on the floor and bent down to pick them up. I looked through the table from under it, stealing a glance at Xie Qiang's feet.

No harm in not looking, but as soon as I did, I was startled and felt a chill run through my body.

Xie Qiang was wearing a pair of red sandals on his feet!

I rubbed my eyes hard, feeling a rush of cold air, barely able to believe what I was seeing. These were the same red sandals that were previously thrown on the riverbank, and now they were mysteriously on Xie Qiang's feet. The bright red color felt strangely eerie. The sandals were small and clearly meant for girls. However, now they were forcibly squeezed onto Xie Qiang's feet, distorting the shape of both the shoes and Xie Qiang's toes. No wonder his walking posture was so strange.

What on earth was going on with these bizarre red sandals?

They were clearly thrown on the riverbank before, so how did they end up on Xie Qiang's feet now?

I'm not a fool. After a slight thought, I knew it was the work of something evil.

Fatso tapped the table with his chopsticks and said, "Yang Cheng, did you get drunk and fall asleep under the table?"

As he spoke, he bent down to look at me.

I quickly got up, smiled, and pulled Fatso along to continue drinking. "Come on, you're the one who's drunk!"

Fatso didn't know about Xie Qiang's feet, and I didn't tell him because I was afraid of scaring him and also worried about alarming Xie Qiang. I wasn't prepared for anything right now, and if the evil spirit hidden in the house suddenly acted up, I wouldn't be able to handle it. So, for now, I pretended not to notice, so as not to alert the enemy.

Because I had something on my mind, this meal didn't taste good at all.

I secretly glanced at Xie Qiang several times, feeling that something was off about him, but I couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was.

We drank until midnight, and we had finished most of the fish and shrimp in the bowl. Fatso and I got up to say goodbye.

Fatso was already slightly tipsy, walking unsteadily. He kept insisting that he could continue drinking.

I supported Fatso as we walked towards the door. Xie Qiang stood up to see us off. Fatso, with his drunken eyes, didn't even notice the red sandals on Xie Qiang's feet. He hiccupped and patted Xie Qiang's shoulder, calling him "brother" repeatedly.

If you've been to the countryside, you may have seen many rural houses with a mirror hanging at the entrance, on which symbols are drawn using cinnabar or incense ash. This is called a "protective mirror" or "evil-warding mirror." Its purpose is to ward off evil spirits and ensure safety.

It is said that as long as a protective mirror is hung at the entrance of a house, evil entities from outside dare not enter. Moreover, it is said that this protective mirror can reveal the true form of evil entities.

My grandfather once told me a story, starring his own father, my great-grandfather. He said that one winter night when my great-grandfather was a child, the cold wind was blowing, and he was alone in the house, roasting two sweet potatoes over the fire. In those chaotic times, all the able-bodied men in the family had been conscripted, leaving only women, children, and the elderly in the house. My great-grandfather's mother had passed away early, so he was the only one struggling to get by in their dilapidated thatched house.

On that winter night, suddenly, there was a knocking sound at the door.

My great-grandfather was very surprised because in their remote place, very few people visited throughout the year. So why would someone be knocking on his door?

Although my great-grandfather felt a bit uneasy, his house was empty anyway, and he wasn't afraid of being robbed. So, he went to open the door.

When he opened the door, it turned out that there was a ragged soldier standing outside.

The soldier was about the same age as my great-grandfather, around his teens. This evoked sympathy from my great-grandfather. In those days, many soldiers deserted to avoid the war by hiding in the deep mountains. My great-grandfather thought this soldier might be a deserter, covered in dirt from head to toe, as if he had just escaped from the battlefield. He looked pitiful.