This collection of stories collects more than a hundred ghost stories scattered in the countryside, all narrated by elderly people from various places. They are not as weird and bizarre as the books on strange things, but they carry the smell of earth and fireworks - perhaps a chance encounter on a mountain road late at night, the strange noise in the window lattice of an old house, or the silhouette of a person reflected in an ancient well, all contain the unresolved obsessions of ordinary people.
Just like the old lady who was looking for her wife on the Qingshi Ridge, her blue shirt was stained with old blood, and the sound of the bamboo stick hitting the stone road still makes people's hearts tremble at night; and like the dry well in Lijiazhuang, half an embroidered shoe would emerge every full moon. It is said that a new daughter-in-law once threw herself into the well here because her husband's family hid her dowry silver bracelet. There are no miraculous spirits in these stories, only cares that cannot be let go, misunderstandings that cannot be solved, and kindness that cannot be forgotten, which are played out repeatedly under the moonlight, in old houses, and on the edge of the fields.
They are "taboos" spoken by generations, and they are also metaphors hidden in daily life - reminding the living that some debts should be repaid, some thoughts should be explained, and some farewells should be said properly. Opening the pages of the book, I seem to hear the sound of fans under the old locust tree at the entrance of the village, accompanied by the words "Once upon a time, there was such a thing..."
