Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
Night at the Grave: A Qingming Festival Tale
墨書 Inktalez
I found a child at the grave. He looked to be only one or two years old, standing in front of a tall tombstone, his small hands pressed against the words "Late Mother" in the middle.
The night wind swirled around the mountains like a wandering hand, rustling through the lush leaves with a whispering sound. This sound came and went, and I rubbed my hands together, pulling my coat tighter around me.
The child stood steadily in front of the tombstone. He glanced at me and Chengshan, then turned his head back to stare at the bushes not far away, giggling softly.
A child of just over a year old, abandoned in a graveyard at night. Even adults felt the chill of the mountain air, yet he neither cried nor fussed.
This was not normal. Chengshan beside me tugged at my arm, pulling me back a step.
I shook off his grip and cautiously walked toward the tombstone, bending down to extend my arms toward the child in an inviting gesture. "Come here, come to me—"
The child released his grip on the tombstone but continued to gaze at the bushes.
Another gust of cold wind blew by, and Chengshan stepped up behind me again, gripping my arm tightly. "Xinran, listen to me—"
His words were interrupted by the sound of clapping. The child stood at the grave, joyfully raising both hands and clapping, his words unclear as he laughed and called out: "Giggling... hiding... Mama... hiding..."
Hiding? Playing hide-and-seek?
He kept his eyes fixed on the bushes, repeating those words as he clapped his hands. The child's innocent laughter echoed through the mountains, creating an eerie atmosphere that made me feel Chengshan trembling beside me.
But I wasn't afraid; what was strange about it? After all, he was just a child, and as long as he was a child, I would love him.
"Mama... Mama... hiding..."
A rustling sound emerged from the bushes, as if something was about to emerge.
I took a few more steps forward, opening my arms and gently coaxing him, "Come here, good boy, come to Mama—"
"Zhao Xinran!" Chengshan let out a suppressed roar of anger. I ignored him and gazed eagerly at the child. He finally stumbled over, throwing himself into my arms, calling out, "Mommy!"
Suddenly, a small, thin black cat emerged from the bushes that the child had been staring at, then darted back into the undergrowth, disappearing in the blink of an eye.
"Mommy! Mommy!" The child giggled in my embrace.
Disregarding Chengshan's dark expression, I tried to lift the child into the car. As I closed the door, I glanced back at the patch of grass. The leaves rustled as if a vague figure was emerging—long hair, black clothing, holding a black cat.
Before I could see clearly, the car started moving. Chengshan was eager to leave and drove quickly, so I held the child tightly.
The cat's yellow-green eyes flashed like two lamps outside the car window, reflecting that shadowy figure. It seemed to wave goodbye to me.
The atmosphere inside the car was tense. I sat in the back seat with the child while Chengshan drove in silence. Ever since I insisted on bringing the child down the mountain, he had been suppressing his anger.
I married him at twenty-two, and now at thirty-four, he rarely lost his temper with me. But today, from the moment we started up the mountain, his mood had been off, and it was clearly getting worse. I cautiously observed his expression through the rearview mirror, fearing he might suddenly explode in front of the child.
The tugging sensation on my hair drew my attention; I looked down to see the child gripping a strand of my hair tightly. I held his small fist gently and felt a surge of tenderness as I hummed softly to soothe him, "Little darling, go to sleep; outside it's dark and the wind blows—"
"Stop singing!" Chengshan's roar echoed like thunder in the car.
The child seemed startled and began to cry loudly. I panicked and patted his back, trying to comfort him. Amidst his sharp cries, Chengshan slammed on the brakes and shouted, "Zhao Xinran, look closely! This child is wearing a funeral garment!"
Comment 0 Comment Count