Chapter 40: I Heard You Want to Insult Me?

In the sky at four or five in the morning, the new moon hung like a hook on the western horizon. Faint silver light slanted onto the cold stone monuments, while the crickets chirped their mournful song. The small grove was veiled in a hazy mist, and from afar, the vague silhouettes of strange rocks appeared even darker. The shadows of trees swayed, as if someone was waving from within.

Creak.

A branch snapped beneath someone’s foot, echoing through the woods. A woman’s trembling voice followed, “Qiang—Qiangzi, why did you put the traps down here?”

Walking along the cemetery path carpeted in rotting leaves, Wang Qiang couldn’t help but shudder. The air here felt a couple degrees colder than outside. Every time he passed beneath a towering redwood, it seemed like a shadowy figure appeared ahead within the mottled darkness—neither male nor female, vanishing upon closer inspection. This unknown fear kept him on edge, as if at any moment a ghost from an old storyteller’s tale might leap out.

He feigned calm and whispered, “It’s just a graveyard. We weren’t afraid of people when they were alive, why should we fear them now?”

His mother, carrying a lead bucket, snorted, “That’s easy to say, but this place gives anyone the chills. By the way, how was dinner last night with Secretary Li?”

Ahead was a slope. Wang Qiang grabbed a branch and vaulted up, replying casually, “It was fine. Mayor Zhang was there too. They left their numbers, said I could call if there was anything.” He’d returned late last night; his mother was already asleep.

She asked suspiciously, “Why would they say that for no reason?”

Wang Qiang turned back to help her up the slope, then told her about the matter with the 7s.

They had reached the riverbank.

This was once the Grand Canal. The river stretched more than ten meters wide, the surface awash in silver light, waves surging, reflecting the hooked moon.

After hearing his explanation, his mother’s timidity seemed to be swept away by delight. She pressed, “Did they really say that?”

“Really.” Wang Qiang squatted, searching for a marker on the ground; it was too dark to see clearly.

Mother and son were in conversation.

Suddenly, a rustling sound came from ahead, indistinct—almost like the wind, almost like water.

“Oh dear, what’s that?” his mother whispered in fright.

Wang Qiang tensed, instinctively wondering if it might be a ghost. He remembered his grandfather’s stories: the graveyard was never peaceful.

When his grandfather was young, he’d wagered with others over who dared sleep in the cemetery overnight. Three young men, none willing to admit fear. But as midnight came, his grandfather heard a shrill, tragic cry that sent him fleeing home, where he’d lain feverish for a week. The two who won the bet fared worse—one was bedridden for a month before recovering, the other seemed fine at first but died inexplicably a month later, ending up buried in this very graveyard.

Remembering this, Wang Qiang’s skin prickled. He believed in science, but some things he approached with reverence—better to believe than not. Especially since his rebirth, he instinctively respected spirits and the unknown; how else could he have returned to twenty years ago?

Seeing his mother’s fearful eyes, Wang Qiang steadied himself and offered comfort, though his ears strained to listen more closely, his nerves already taut.

“…Brother, it’s not good…”

“What’s not good… splash… get…”

“Huff… I’m scared…”

The voices were vague, indistinct, but Wang Qiang’s heart eased. He was certain it was a man and a woman talking. Whoever came to the cemetery at this hour, as long as they were human, there was nothing to fear.

“Mom, I think there are people ahead,” Wang Qiang said with a smile.

His mother, startled, murmured, “Who would be brave enough to come to the cemetery before dawn?”

Wang Qiang wondered about that himself, but finding the trap was more urgent. He didn’t rush forward, instead following the markers.

Strange.

The voices grew clearer as he walked.

“There’s some sound over there!” a girl’s nervous voice called out, tinged with fear.

Then came an indifferent man’s reply, “Junjun, how many times have I told you, there are no ghosts in this world. What are you afraid of?”

The girl’s voice quivered with tears, “I just am scared.”

“Don’t be, don’t be,” the man soothed. “I don’t know who set these traps, but there’s lots of fish. I saw two more ropes over there—when we’re done, we’ll go home, alright?”

“Alright, but hurry up.”

Traps?

Don’t know who set them?

Wang Qiang felt both amused and annoyed. He’d deliberately set the traps near the deserted cemetery, thinking the distance from home would prevent theft, but someone still found them. He quickly turned to his mother, signaling her to keep quiet, wanting to see who dared such audacity.

His mother understood and nodded.

Both tiptoed forward, careful not to make a sound.

On the riverbank, water droplets from the redwoods were cold as they fell. Bending low to slip under branches, Wang Qiang followed the markers to the spot where he’d set his traps.

Looking toward the river, he saw two shadowy figures, one tall, one short—difficult to make out in the darkness, but the tall one seemed to be a girl, the short, sturdy one a man.

With a splash, the sturdy man hauled a long trap from the river. “Wow, it’s heavy, there must be a lot of fish inside.”

The tall girl was both delighted and anxious. “So many fish—it’ll fetch a good price, right? Hurry up, brother, I’m really scared.”

“I know, I know,” said the man, pulling the trap onto the bank.

Wang Qiang beckoned his mother, carefully descending the steep slope, gripping with his toes to avoid slipping.

The siblings continued their conversation.

“Isn’t it wrong to steal someone else’s trap?” the girl worried.

The man snorted, “What’s wrong with it? If he’s stupid enough to set his trap here, it’s his fault for making it easy for me.” In the darkness, he seemed to wave his arm, tone mocking. “If I knew who it was, I’d curse him to his face for being an idiot.”

Wang Qiang couldn’t help but laugh, quickening his steps to approach them from behind. Without warning, he said, “Oh? I hear you want to curse me?”

The pair jumped up in shock.

The girl cried out, “Oh my god!” and tried to run.

The man was a bit steadier, grabbing his sister’s hand, but even so, Wang Qiang could tell from his stiffly turned, mournful face that he was terrified—his legs, clad in baggy shorts, were trembling violently.

As the saying goes, “People can scare people to death.” This must be what it meant.

Wang Qiang had no intention of frightening them further. He was both angry and amused—these siblings were something else, daring to steal his fish traps. He looked closely, wanting to see just who they were.