After the grand performance, the old year officially came to an end, and everyone had to start working hard for their livelihoods again. During this period, whether it was the tenant farmers who sold their physical strength or the wealthy landlords, they were all full of energy and presented a lively state. However, due to the lung disease, people in the county were in a state of panic for a while. Except for extraordinary individuals like my father who were immune to all poisons, most people stayed at home, afraid of contracting the deadly disease, so their plans for a new livelihood were repeatedly delayed.
Naturally, I was no exception. Even though our family had closed the door and took medicine for a period of time not long ago, we still didn't dare to go out too much after returning from the banquet. When I was extremely bored, I would flip through some popular newspapers that my father brought back. Most of the content in these newspapers was about lung diseases, and occasionally there were a few obscure and difficult-to-understand satirical articles. I sneered at those articles, but the two or three pieces of news recorded in the newspaper were good for killing time. The newspaper said that the surrounding areas of Chixian County were not only plagued by lung diseases but also seemed to be getting worse: medical clinics were overwhelmed and had to close their doors to patients; countless dead bodies couldn't be cremated in time, so they had to be piled up on heavy carts; the government simply left it to fate and let the people fend for themselves. What's more, there was a dispute between a doctor and a patient, and in a fit of anger, the doctor took the patient's life. Although the author vividly described these events, I still felt that human nature couldn't be so cruel. So I treated these newspapers of unknown origin as entertainment and didn't take them too seriously.
One day, I was dozing off on the couch when I suddenly heard someone rushing into the courtyard. I felt annoyed, but I had to put on my shoes and go out to greet the guest. I saw a stranger anxiously looking around in the hall, saying that he was looking for my father to save someone. I was puzzled by this because my father, a simple countryman, couldn't possibly know medical skills. But as a young boy, I couldn't ask too many questions, so I had to take him to find my father. After my father inquired, he learned that this young man had gone to borrow a water ladle from the son of an old boatman, but he found him lying on the bed, barely breathing. Thinking that they had a close relationship in normal times, he had no choice but to seek help here. My father frowned, suddenly slapped his thigh, and exclaimed, then hurriedly followed the young man. I was already aware of the situation, so I followed closely behind.
When we arrived at the old boatman's house, his son was lying on the bed, weak and with a flushed face, with a handkerchief on his forehead. The house was in a mess, with a copper kettle fallen on the ground and not much ash in the stove, indicating that it hadn't been used for some time. My father walked over to examine his condition, and told me to bring a bowl of water and three chopsticks. Although I was quite puzzled, I still did as he said. My father inserted the chopsticks into the bowl, and when they stood firmly, he angrily scolded:
"The stubborn old man who's already dead, why do you still torment your poor son!"
As I watched him gradually weaken, my father just shouted into thin air beside him, and I felt anxious. So I quietly suggested going to find the doctor. But my father just glanced at me and contemptuously said:
"It's fine, can't you see the standing chopsticks?"
"He's the son who died and his parents miss him, so he came back to the mortal world to visit, and once he's driven away, everything will be fine."
Naturally, I wouldn't believe my father's nonsense, but looking at his weakened state, I felt that he might have contracted the lung disease. Thinking back to his frequent coughing and wheezing on the boat a few days ago, if that was the case, he was likely to lose his life. I felt a sense of horror and broke out in a cold sweat, so I begged the young man to go with me to find the doctor. The young man was obviously also in a panic and led me out of the house in a daze.
We found the doctor and explained our purpose. However, the old doctor just glanced at me and coldly said:
"That guy insulted me in public when he was alive, and today this kid is repaying his father's debt. What's wrong with that?"
"The remnants of a violent family, I won't save him!"
I knew very well that the boatman and his son were not the same kind of people, so I earnestly pleaded with the old doctor for help. After some persuasion, the old doctor reluctantly agreed, but only made a simple diagnosis. Even so, for someone who was on the verge of death, it was still great news. The three of us hurried back, and my father was still making a fuss about the bowl of water. Ironically, his condition didn't improve because of it. When my father saw the doctor, he seemed to be quite resentful, as if his divine power had been insulted.
"How can people in the mortal world meddle in the affairs of the underworld?" my father sarcastically said.
The old doctor didn't get angry because of this, he just diagnosed the illness, prescribed medicine, and then said to my father:
"This kid's lung disease is already incurable. I'm afraid his time is running out."
"Boil the medicine according to this prescription and let him drink it. He has done some good deeds, so helping him can be considered accumulating virtue." After speaking, he turned and left.
The old doctor had indeed been moved by compassion, even though he had been insulted by this family before. After the old doctor left, I saw my father stuffing the prescription into his sleeve and then started fussing over the bowl of water again. I felt a mix of emotions but didn't know how to respond.
The doctor's words eventually came true. The boatman's son didn't last a few days before passing away. It was pitiful that in the first half of his life, he was despised and wandered around; in the second half, he generously gave money but still didn't earn a good reputation and was still criticized by his fellow villagers. Even after his death, he didn't leave behind any children, and his family line came to an end. Thinking of their past relationship, my father couldn't bear to see his body exposed in the wilderness, so he helped with the funeral arrangements and prepared to bury him in the back mountain. On the day of the funeral, the old doctor also came, still speaking harsh words, but I sincerely admired his sense of righteousness. He and my father, along with two other fellow villagers who came to help, carried the coffin towards the back mountain. Along the way, they encountered many fellow villagers, but when they learned about the deceased, most of them quickly walked away with a frightened expression. In the eyes of the villagers, he died of a lung disease, and he was seen as a plague god. Moreover, some people even falsely claimed that the old doctor had caused someone's death and only helped carry the coffin out of guilt, and even threw dirt on his head. The old doctor's face turned red, and he wanted to scold them loudly, but he coughed uncontrollably due to the surge of blood and qi. I felt angry, but my father remained indifferent, so I had no way to intervene. In fact, I was becoming more and more confused by my father's actions. He didn't use the prescription from the doctor but relied on a bowl of water to treat and save people. Now, he showed kindness by helping with the funeral arrangements, but he silently watched as the kind-hearted person was humiliated without saying a word. I couldn't figure out whether he was good or evil.
Digging the ground, placing the coffin, covering the soil, and smoothing it out, my father distributed some money for their hard work, and then everyone went their separate ways.
When they left, the old doctor's back was even more hunched, his face pale, and he coughed violently as if his life had been drained.
My father muttered for me to go home, lit a cigarette, and walked slowly. I felt rebellious and deliberately walked quickly, not saying a word along the way.
I couldn't fall asleep because of the morning's events, and I thought about the newspapers I had read a few days ago. Could it be that the vivid and unbelievable descriptions were all true? Could human nature really be so cruel?
I still had no way to know.
A few days later, the old doctor committed suicide, and it wasn't until the smell of decay came from his house that he was discovered.
My father said that people in the mortal world couldn't interfere with the affairs of the underworld.
Little did he know that people in the mortal world had long become evil ghosts.
The bustling streets were actually devoid of people.
The walking bodies were wrapped in rotten hearts.
The cursed ones brought chaos to the world.
The ones destined for eternal life had their souls return to heaven.