Cataclysm Chapter 121: Extras · Ghost Marriage 01

Chapter 121: Extras · Ghost Marriage 01

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: Karai

 

On the fifteenth of July, during the Ghost Festival, it was said that the gates of the underworld opened wide, and the lonely souls and wandering ghosts of the afterlife roamed the living world. Normally, ghosts weren’t often seen in the human realm, but on this day, they could be found everywhere—squatting at bridgeheads and street corners, inhaling the smoke from fireworks, or gathering around sacrificial offerings to gorge themselves on leftover food. Some vengeful spirits chose that day to find a scapegoat.

However, the younger generation had become the least inclined to believe in ghosts and gods. The Ghost Festival had turned into a holiday for taking time off and having fun. Families would reunite, offer sacrifices to their ancestors, and prepare fresh flowers, fruits, chicken, duck, fish, and meat, along with grand plays performed for the spirits. This time, it had become a holiday for the youth to play, and many young people who worked elsewhere would return home on this day.

Chen Yang didn’t like the Ghost Festival. The daytime was fine, but by nightfall, countless ghosts and monsters would appear, attempting to steal his life force. He tightened his grip on the basket he held, which was filled with the vegetables and offerings he’d bought. Along the way, countless wandering souls and ghosts stared at him, appearing at street corners and bridgeheads. As he reached the middle of a bridge, a pale ghostly hand suddenly reached out from beneath the bridge and grabbed his ankle.

Chen Yang jumped in shock, quickly using the copper coin his grandfather had given him to whip the ghostly hand, shouting, “Begone!” The ghostly hand burned and evaporated into ash, retreating quickly. He peered down, only to be further startled—beneath the bridge, dozens of bloated corpses floated, their skin swollen from the water. The corpses stared up at him with hollow black eyes and mouths, wriggling as if trying to climb up from the riverbed, crazily eyeing his special physique.

“What’s with all your jumping around? Don’t take up space if there’s nothing wrong!”

Chen Yang turned around to see a young man with a pale, terrified face yelling. Chen Yang gave him a glance and whispered, “This spot’s no good. You’d better not stand here.” Then he turned and walked away.

The young man, confused, muttered, “What’s with this guy? Doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” After Chen Yang left, the young man immediately claimed the spot for himself and set his goods down. This was an old bridge in town, a crucial passage between the town and the village. People had already set up stalls on both sides, selling vegetables, meat, paper money, and wax candles, making the place messy and cluttered.

An old man selling vegetables nearby warned him, “I advise you not to talk to him. That Chen family kid is bad luck. Ever since he was little, he’s attracted all kinds of ghosts, even causing his parents and that old man Chen to die. He was standing there just now because there’s something dirty under the bridge. You should move.” He lowered his voice and added, “Every year, people die on this bridge—some are swept away by the river, others fall, some even commit suicide. All of them end up in the spot where you’re standing.”

A chill ran down the young man’s spine as he listened, but since there was nowhere else to stand, he didn’t want to give up the spot. He stubbornly said, “Are you trying to fool me? People die every year, but have you been there every time? And in the same spot? This bridge is so big, what are the odds of those dead people always ending up in the same place? Ridiculous.”

The young man crouched down, unaware that a bloated ghost, whose features were unrecognizable due to swelling, had crawled up from the riverbed. It slowly climbed up his heel and eventually clung to his shoulder, greedily sucking in his life energy. Suddenly, the young man felt an intense chill and wrapped his arms around himself, rubbing them as he looked up at the sky.

The sky was overcast, and it seemed like a torrential rainstorm was about to break. It hadn’t rained in the past month, so it was no wonder that a downpour was coming. The weather had turned cool, and it was no surprise that it felt so cold.

Though the young man felt the chill, he didn’t realize how many others in the area were struggling to breathe in the stifling heat that made the air unbearable.

As Chen Yang passed by the village’s ancestral hall, he saw the bustling scene inside and the old, weathered opera stage. The actors were already warming up their voices before donning their costumes. The hall itself was quite old, said to have been built during the Republican period and never repaired since. It was beyond repair, too dilapidated to fix. A large section of the wall’s plaster had fallen off, and the paint had completely peeled away.

The once-vibrantly colored wooden door, adorned with images of the door gods, Shen Tu and Yu Lei, had faded over time. Dirt had accumulated thickly at the bottom of the door, where the faded images had been. Inside the hall, there was a three- to four-meter-wide stage, and though it had lost some of its grandeur from when it was first built, one could still make out the traces of its former elegance. The stage had weathered badly over the years, suffering under the harsh winds and rain. Beneath the stage, someone was arranging stools in neat rows.

It was customary in the village during the Ghost Festival to perform operas for the ghosts. The performance began at the third watch and ended at the fourth. During the performance, no one could be present except the actors. All the actors had to be male; there could be no women, and all roles—sheng, dan, jing, mo, and chou—had to be performed, none could be missing. At around seven or eight in the evening, people would come with offerings and spirit tablets. Families contributed money to buy seats, essentially paying for their ancestors to have a spot to watch the opera.

Chen Yang was tempted, as his grandfather loved watching operas. In his free time, his grandfather would even warm up his voice. But Chen Yang couldn’t go out at night. The moment he stepped outside, groups of wandering ghosts would follow him, and he might even attract a few vengeful spirits.

He had no choice but to ask his neighbor to buy a seat for him and bring his grandfather’s spirit tablet to watch the show.

Chen Yang took a step forward when suddenly he heard a loud voice in his ear, like the clang of a gong or the beat of a drum. The sound gave him a headache. When he looked up, he was shocked to see the door gods, Shen Tu and Yu Lei, suddenly grow much taller. They glared at him fiercely and commanded him to leave and not cause trouble.

Chen Yang’s expression became strange. Due to his special constitution, many spirits and deities regarded him as a wandering soul, not allowing him to disturb the human world, nor would they offer him any protection. This was why his family didn’t display door gods—if they did, he wouldn’t even be able to enter his own home.

When he returned home, he saw that the door was locked. Chen Yang took out his key and entered. Sure enough, his grandfather wasn’t around. He found a white piece of paper on top of the old green refrigerator. Written on the paper was: “Something came up. I’ll be back late.”

After putting the paper back in its place, Chen Yang went to the kitchen to prepare dinner, placing fresh flowers, fruits, and other offerings on the altar. He then set the prepared meats—chicken, duck, fish—on another small table, and placed the paper money, wax candles, and paper effigies on either side. On the altar were spirit tablets for his ancestors, parents, and grandfather. He began by offering to the ancestral gods and his family members, then sat beside the altar, watching the flickering candlelight.

After a while, he took the paper money and burned it in the furnace, speaking as he did, “Grandpa, Dad, Mom, I’m doing well. I’m safely alive at sixteen. Grandpa’s been telling me that sixteen is a pivotal year for my destiny. This year holds a great opportunity for me. If I catch this opportunity, I’ll live to be eighteen. Eighteen is another great opportunity, and if I can grab both chances, I won’t be affected by my condition anymore. Grandpa also said that the opportunities at sixteen and eighteen are tied to one person. I really want to find that person, but I don’t want to hurt them. I don’t know if it’ll harm them.”

After a pause, Chen Yang began to burn the paper effigies, including a paper refrigerator and paper TV, sighing as he did. “I miss you all so much, but I can’t contact you until after I turn eighteen. I can summon souls, but I’m too scared to try.” Because of his constitution, summoning souls would inevitably bring the most vicious ghosts from hell to the human world. As a result, he was afraid to try to contact his parents and grandfather.

“By the way, I passed all my exams this semester,” Chen Yang added proudly, happy to share the good news with his family. The high school in town had been built on an old burial ground, and there were many wandering souls and ghosts. Though they couldn’t hurt Chen Yang, they liked to play tricks on him. Even though he knew all the answers on the test, those ghosts would either cover his eyes or steal his pen, making it impossible for him to finish the exam.

This semester’s final exams were especially important, as they determined the class assignments for the second year of high school. Chen Yang took them seriously and prepared thoroughly, even fighting against the restless spirits in the school. In the end, he managed to pass. He wouldn’t be placed in the lower-tier class, at least, and though he didn’t expect to be placed in the elite class, the regular class would still have similar teaching quality.

Chen Yang understood why the ghosts were interfering—they didn’t want him to go to university in another city and leave the town and village. In the past, when he moved from elementary to middle school, and from middle school to high school, the village’s ghosts used the same tactics. It wasn’t that they couldn’t bear to let him go; they just didn’t want to lose their chance to seize his body. If they missed this rare body with a special fate, they didn’t know when or if they would ever return to the human world.

At that moment, he heard the neighbor aunt’s voice from outside, “Yang Yang, your sister-in-law is going to the ancestral hall. You should bring your grandfather’s spirit tablet and offerings.”

“Okay,” Chen Yang quickly replied, gathering the offerings and his grandfather’s spirit tablet into a basket, then heading out to the neighbor’s house. The neighbor’s house was about five meters away, but the area was still relatively quiet, as several households had no residents. His neighbor, the aunt, wasn’t a relative, just a neighbor, but she was very kind and often helped him out, knowing his situation without ever complaining.

When he knocked, the neighbor’s daughter-in-law opened the door. Upon seeing Chen Yang, she smiled brightly, “Yang Yang, you’re quick. Those offerings look pretty generous. Your grandfather will be happy.”

Chen Yang smiled awkwardly, “Sorry to trouble you,” then took out some money from his pocket to give her as the “admission fee” for the opera, but she refused.

“No need to give me money,” she said. “Keep it for yourself. You’re about to be a sophomore, right? In two years, it’ll be the college entrance exam. Study hard and aim to get into university. You need to keep your health up too; you’re too thin.”

Chen Yang insisted, “It’s for the admission fee, please take it.”

She glanced at him and, seeing he wouldn’t take no for an answer, relented. “You don’t know how popular your offerings are, do you?”

Chen Yang was puzzled, “Hmm?”

At sixteen, Chen Yang had a pale, soft face, like tofu. His life experiences had been unique, and he was nothing like the rebellious teenagers his age. He was quiet and obedient, like a calm lake, which made him particularly endearing. When he showed a puzzled expression, it struck a chord with the woman, and her maternal instincts kicked in. Unable to resist, she pinched his cheek and said, “Yang Yang, your cooking is so good. The scent wafts all the way here, making our mouths water. Your offerings? Once they’re placed on the altar, they’re all taken right away. People fight over them. Your offerings are even more popular than your admission fee.”

“Really?” Chen Yang was skeptical. His offerings were the same as most people’s—fruits and a piece of braised pork. Nothing special, probably even less impressive than others’ offerings with chicken and duck.

The woman nodded firmly before suddenly saying, “How about you sell me this piece of braised pork?”

“If you want it, just take it,” Chen Yang replied.

“That’s perfect. Keep the money for yourself, consider it the price of the pork.” Before Chen Yang could respond, the woman declared, “It’s settled! If you keep hesitating, I won’t help you anymore.”

Chen Yang had no choice but to smile, “Thank you.”

The woman smiled as she pinched Chen Yang’s cheek, “Hurry up and go back. It’s getting dark. If you’re any later, who knows what you’ll run into.”

“Okay.” Chen Yang nodded and, after handing the basket to her, was stuffed with some fruit and candy. He refused the fruit, but when it came to the candy, his rejection wasn’t very firm. He was somewhat hesitant, and as a result, he ended up with a full bag of candy. Holding the bag, Chen Yang felt a mixture of excitement and guilt, but in the end, excitement won out, and he couldn’t resist unwrapping a piece of candy.

His sister-in-law mentioned that the candy was bought from the city, expensive and delicious. With the candy in his mouth, Chen Yang could confirm that it was indeed delicious. His steps lightened, and he didn’t notice that it had grown completely dark. The sound of drums and gongs drifted on the wind from a distance. The streetlights were broken and dim as usual, and the houses along the street had no lights on, as their owners had moved away.

The alley was very dark, and such places were perfect for hiding the “dirty things.” Chen Yang heard footsteps behind him, and the rhythm was very distinctive. After a while, he realized that the rhythm of the footsteps matched his own, both fast and slow in perfect sync. He stopped, and the footsteps stopped as well. When he turned around, he found only his own shadow behind him.

The “dirty things” lurking in the dark seemed to be stirring, so Chen Yang quickened his pace to return home. He didn’t notice that, despite the lack of light, his shadow appeared unusually clear. The shadow slowly began to show a fierce, grotesque face, attempting to lunge at Chen Yang.

The house was just ahead, and Chen Yang began to run. His shadow, afraid of the guardian deity of the door, didn’t hide anymore. It suddenly opened its mouth and emitted a terrifying screech as it pounced on Chen Yang’s back. Just as it was about to reach him, Chen Yang spun around and held out a red rope, knotted in a special way with copper coins tied at each end, placing it in front of the malevolent ghost. The copper coins vibrated, producing a soft buzzing sound.

The evil spirit recoiled in fear from the copper coins, its body burning from the sunlight energy and quickly retreating. Seizing the opportunity, Chen Yang ran inside the house and pulled on the rope. The guardian deity figure that had been hanging on the door fell down with a brilliant flash of golden light, scaring the ghost away.

Chen Yang sighed in relief, only to hear a loud shout. Looking up, he saw the angry face of the door god in the painting. He couldn’t help but twitch his mouth. These door gods must have mistaken him for a ghost again. He closed the door but didn’t put away the figure of the door god.

Due to his physical condition, he was usually blocked by the door god’s statue when coming in, so he would store it away and only place it on the door after returning home. At least with the door god in place, there was less interference from ghosts at night. His grandfather, the Wu, still hadn’t returned, so Chen Yang put the food back into the fridge. He then took out his Taoist books to study, preparing for the next day. When the clock struck nine, he went to take a bath.

When entering the bathroom, he carefully checked to see if any “dirty things” had hidden inside. After ensuring everything was clean, he hung a vermilion yellow talisman in front of the window and began to bathe. Halfway through, he heard a faint sound, but it was drowned out by the sound of water splashing. He couldn’t make out what it was.

Thinking it might be his grandfather returning, he turned off the shower head and listened carefully. The sound seemed to be coming from the window. He walked over and lifted the vermilion yellow talisman, peering outside. The night was pitch black, and nothing was there. Just as he was about to place the talisman back, a grotesque, swollen face suddenly appeared in front of him, slamming against the window. The face stared at him, making disgusting, gurgling noises.

It was a water ghost that had followed him all the way from under the bridge, taking advantage of the strong yin energy on the Ghost Festival. The water ghost had followed him all the way here. The window cracked from the impact, and Chen Yang immediately slapped the talisman onto the window and chanted, “Foul energy dissipate, Taoist energy endure, hurry and obey the law!”

The talisman, combined with one of the eight major exorcism chants from Taoism, the Divine Cleansing Mantra, drove the water ghost away. Chen Yang thought he had successfully banished the ghost, but little did he know, the water ghost was reluctant to leave. It climbed down the window and possessed a dazed young man standing nearby. This young man was the one who had stubbornly stayed in a place where many had died earlier that day, and as a result, he had been possessed by the ghost.

The water ghost, now inhabiting the young man, began walking toward the door. However, the door god recognized the possession and, enraged by the ghost’s attempt to cause harm during the Ghost Festival, immediately struck the water ghost down, sending its soul scattering.

The young man collapsed onto the floor, and after a while, he regained consciousness, feeling dazed. It took him a moment to fully wake up, and when he did, he realized he was in an unfamiliar place. Initially startled, he noticed he was drenched in water, emitting a damp and unpleasant odor. His face turned pale, and he hurriedly stood up, wanting to leave.

Chen Yang’s house had two floors, with a layout that made the rooms feel quite compact. The windows on both floors were covered with yellow talismans, and he had also closed the skylights. After checking everything, he went back to his room to sleep. However, in the middle of the night, a loud crash downstairs woke him up. He quickly got up, put on his slippers, and ran downstairs. As he reached the stairs, he froze in shock when he saw the door was broken open. Without thinking, he rushed to the shrine where his ancestral deity statue was kept.

Passing by the window, he glanced outside, and his scalp immediately tingled, goosebumps rising all over his body. He saw that the yellow talisman that had been covering the window to ward off evil had been burned halfway, revealing countless small black handprints all over the window. The handprints were tiny, resembling those of a baby. Chen Yang didn’t stop; he ran to the shrine and held the statue of the ancestral deity to his chest, silently praying, “Ancestral deity, protect me!”

Looking down, he saw black footprints on the floor. He turned on the light and discovered that the footprints also belonged to a child’s feet. The prints led inward, from the door to the shrine and to the living room sofa.

Chen Yang recalled what his grandfather, the Wu, had told him: ghosts did not leave footprints unless lime had been scattered at the door. If a ghost stepped in the lime and walked out, black footprints would appear. Of all ghosts, vengeful and malicious spirits were the hardest to deal with. Malicious ghosts were often the spirits of ruthless criminals, while vengeful ghosts were typically those of women and children. The former had accumulated karmic burdens and were inherently violent, while the latter were full of resentment and, after death, became vengeful spirits continuing to harm others.

The black footprints before him indicated that a vengeful child’s ghost had entered the house. If a child died in an unjust manner before living out their life, they would harbor intense resentment, unable to distinguish right from wrong, only desiring to return to life. Normally, such a ghost would not harm anyone unless provoked, but with Chen Yang’s physical condition, it was likely he would be targeted.

Chen Yang walked toward the living room, where he saw snack wrappers scattered on the sofa and toys tossed about in disarray. The footprints stopped under the sofa, but the sofa was not sunken, and he didn’t detect any ghostly energy.

Where was the ghost hiding? Chen Yang frowned and cautiously searched for the little ghost’s hiding place. He heard rustling sounds, but when he followed the noise, he couldn’t find the source. The sound seemed to follow him—was the ghost hiding on his back?

Chen Yang quickly ran to the mirror, drew a symbol on it, and looked behind him. The space was empty; there was no ghost. He sighed in relief, noticing that his back felt neither heavy nor sore, confirming there was no ghost clinging to him. He remained on high alert, though, as the sound seemed to be following him like a shadow.

Placing the ancestral deity statue on the table, Chen Yang opened a drawer to reveal a copper mirror. He set the mirror with its surface facing upward, directly beneath the ceiling. He adjusted the mirror, and suddenly, it reflected a small ghost with a long tail, crouching on the ceiling. The ghost’s appearance was terrifying, with its mouth unzipped to its ears, revealing serrated teeth. Its eyes were all white, and it stared fixedly at Chen Yang.

The little ghost seemed to be enjoying itself. It hadn’t realized Chen Yang had spotted it and was climbing around the ceiling, leaving black streaks like a snail leaving a trail on the floor.

Chen Yang hid the copper mirror in his palm, holding the ancestral deity statue as if nervously searching for the ghost, but he was actually making his way toward a small door next to the shrine. Behind that door were Taoist robes, magic tools, and talismans. At this point, he wasn’t proficient enough to use the red rope and copper coins, so he could only rely on the talismans for now.

As he approached the small door, the ghost suddenly opened its mouth and let out a shrill scream before lunging toward him. Chen Yang swiftly dodged and was about to enter the small door when several dark shadows suddenly appeared overhead, frightening him. He fumbled for the light switch and turned it on, revealing a terrifying scene that left him speechless.

The small room was filled with countless dried corpses hanging from the ceiling. They were tied up with thin strings, resembling the dried meat in a butcher’s shop. The faces of the corpses were twisted in expressions reminiscent of the famous painting The Scream by Edvard Munch, only they seemed even more terrifying when shown on real faces.

The dried faces had three black hollow holes: two black eye sockets and a mouth that appeared to be screaming in agony. Their twisted bodies seemed as though they were imprisoned in hell, tortured and struggling in madness. All at once, the corpses turned their faces toward Chen Yang, and for a brief moment, everything was still. Then, the corpses began to move frantically toward him.

The little ghost screamed, scaring off the corpses as a warning to them not to approach Chen Yang. It charged in, tearing apart the closest corpse near the door. However, it was quickly overwhelmed by the other corpses, and it was unclear whether the dismembered body was actually fully destroyed.

Chen Yang turned and fled. The talismans and magic tools inside the small room were all destroyed, leaving him with no means of defense. The ancestral deity did not manifest, likely thinking that Chen Yang was aligned with the corpses.

Grandfather Wu had told him that he wasn’t ready to learn the advanced ghost art techniques of the Wu clan. For now, he could only master the simplest exorcism and ghost-repelling spells. He couldn’t even summon the ancestral deity or any of the heavenly generals and ghost messengers because there was a risk they would mistake him for a ghost and exterminate him.

The house was no longer safe, and the outside world was just as dangerous. All Chen Yang could do was hope that Grandfather Wu would return soon.

 

 

 

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