Chapter Thirteen: Another Crisis Emerges

After Old Guo blew out the oil lamp, he spoke into the pitch-dark room, “When you watch the mountain fields, you must first watch yourself.”

I deliberately asked, “Grandpa, what do you mean by that?”

But Old Guo ignored me completely, pulling the quilt over his head, and soon began to snore.

There was definitely a hidden meaning in his words.

Before lying down, I deliberately pulled my backpack close to me.

I was deeply afraid that those demon-faced tumor men from the village would catch up.

Not long after I lay down, I heard a scraping sound at the window, like claws scratching the wall.

Had the demon-faced tumor men caught up?

But that couldn’t be right. Even if they knew I was hiding here, it would take some time to find me, not to mention I had wiped away all traces of my path as I left.

It couldn’t be this fast!

At that moment, I suddenly recalled something Hu Sanqi had once told me.

Wolves scratching at the walls!

Hu Sanqi had said that when vicious wolves wanted to sneak into a house to eat people, they would use their claws to grip the windowsill and peer inside. If everyone inside was asleep, the wolves would break in.

Instantly, all sleep left me. I gripped my bayonet tightly and raised my head.

I wanted to look outside, but then remembered that this house didn’t have glass—just the old kind of window paper.

As long as whatever was outside wasn’t pressed against the window, no one inside could tell if it was a person or a ghost.

Just as I was straining to listen, something scraped along the wall and dashed toward the door.

I immediately sat up on the heated brick bed, didn’t bother waking Old Guo, grabbed the machete leaning behind the door, and quietly slipped into the outer room.

If it really was a wolf, by the time it circled to the door, it would crash right in. The main door wasn’t reinforced with metal, and if a wolf came, it could break through in just a few blows. I had to take a look.

When wolves dare to intrude into a home, it’s never just one. One rams the door while another waits by the window. It’s not that wolves don’t know how to break through windows, they’re just afraid the people inside might escape that way.

Before leaving, I gave Old Guo a couple of shakes and whispered, “There’s something outside.” Then, gripping the machete, I moved into the outer room.

But after waiting at the door for quite a while, I didn’t hear a sound. Peering through a crack, all I saw was a pitch-black hillside.

I hesitated for a long moment before cautiously pushing the door open a crack.

That’s when I saw, not far from the house, a round, bulging object. From a distance, it looked like a human head placed on the ground, with a single tuft of hair sticking straight up from the crown.

What kind of thing was that?

Could it be an old ginseng root?

Northeasterners call wild ginseng “clubs.” It’s said that when a ginseng root grows old enough, it can take on human form; the older the form, the longer the ginseng has lived.

But no matter how it transforms, there’s always a tuft of hair sticking up—that’s the ginseng stalk.

The stalk itself cannot change shape, and that’s the club’s weakness: as long as you can grab that tuft, no matter how powerful the club, it can’t escape.

Legend has it that old clubs will emerge from the earth during the full moon to absorb lunar essence. They’re timid, never daring to show themselves fully—just poking out their heads. That’s the best time to grab the stalk.

From behind, the thing looked exactly like an old club, so I walked straight toward it.

When I got close, the head suddenly twisted around on the spot, lifting its face to look at me.

All I saw was a blood-soaked human face, the features all sliced away.

Stunned, I staggered back two steps, when suddenly a hand clamped down on my shoulder. “Did you see everything?”

It was Old Guo’s voice.

Instinctively, I turned my head, only to see a face mangled and dripping with blood.

A chill shot through me, and I woke up on the heated bed.

It had all been a dream.

“Heh heh, heh heh...”

Before I could wipe the cold sweat from my brow, I heard Old Guo cackling.

When I looked over, Old Guo had his back to me, shoulders shaking with laughter.

The person lying on the bed was clearly Old Guo, but the laughter was that of a woman—shrill and broken, coming in fits and starts.

It was as if he was watching something, laughing every so often.

Old Guo was bewitched!

I still had a few stray firecrackers in my bag. I quickly grabbed one, lit it, and threw it beside Old Guo.

The explosion jolted him awake. He sat bolt upright on the bed. “You little bastard, what are you doing? Trying to kill me?”

I hurried to explain, “Grandpa Guo, just now you were laughing like a woman... I heard firecrackers are effective, so I set one off.”

“Don’t listen to such nonsense.” Old Guo relit the oil lamp as he spoke. “Did you see anything else just now?”

From the look on Old Guo’s face, I could tell he was hiding something. So I feigned ignorance and replied, “I didn’t see anything, just heard you laughing. Oh, and I had a dream...”

I watched Old Guo closely as I spoke. Sure enough, his face was a bit pale.

After listening, he forced himself to sound calm. “Boy, go get me some water.”

As I stood up and walked toward the door, Old Guo quickly took down the old foreign rifle hanging on the wall and pointed it at me, shouting, “Get out. Leave right now.”

I retorted, “Grandpa, it’s the middle of the night—where do you expect me to go?”

Old Guo snarled, “I don’t care where you go, just don’t stay in my house.”

“If you don’t leave, I’ll kill you.”

His eyes glinted with murderous intent—he was truly ready to kill me.

An ordinary person might have been frightened off by the sight of the gun.

But I knew: the moment I mentioned my dream, he suddenly wanted me gone. There had to be something more to it. If I left just like that, I might die even more miserably outside.

Pretending to be afraid, I said, “I’ll go, I’ll go right away. Just don’t point that thing at me...”

I slowly took a step back, then suddenly pointed behind Old Guo and shouted, “Grandpa, behind you!”

He instinctively turned his head, and while he was distracted, I grabbed his gun barrel, yanked it upward, and smashed him in the face with my fist.

Old Guo, after all, was old, and I had martial training. One punch was enough to knock him out cold.

I checked his breathing to make sure he wasn’t dead, then used his own belt to tie him up.

I searched his house several times, but aside from the usual household items, I found nothing for warding off evil.

Why had he suddenly lost his temper after hearing my dream?

No matter how hard I thought, I couldn’t figure it out. I scooped a ladle of cold water from the vat and splashed it on his face. When he came to, I said, “Old man, you and I have no grievances. Why did you try to harm me?”

Old Guo roared, “This is my house. What, I can’t refuse to let you stay?”

“Are you a bandit? Trying to steal my house?”

I sneered, “It’s your house, and you don’t want outsiders staying here—that’s only natural. But can you honestly say that, after hearing about my dream, your urge to drive me out isn’t because you’re hiding something?”