On the Fifteenth of July, the Ghost Eye Opens

On the fifteenth day of the seventh lunar month, when the gates of the underworld open, Chen Liren squatted in front of the stove, smoking his pipe half the night.

The bundle in his arms suddenly grew hot. The birthmark of a ghost eye on the baby’s forehead turned red as if it were bleeding. Lin Xiuyun tugged at his sleeve, sobbing. “Go beg Widow Zhou! She’s the only one who can ward off evil!” But the villagers blocked the courtyard gate, and Zhou Zhongwen cursed as he brandished a carrying pole. “That witch only takes in ill-omened children! Are you trying to bring disaster on the whole village?” The old clan chief, Zhou Chengde, tapped his tobacco pipe. “Drown the child in the pond and keep the whole area safe.” Chen Liren grabbed a hatchet and charged into the crowd. “My son is a human being, not an evil omen!” In the dead of night, the couple kicked open Zhou Wanqing’s rickety door, only to find her combing her hair in front of a dusty mirror. In the reflection was a woman in a red dress, leaning close to her ear and whispering, “The ghost eye opens, and the debts of the dead come due. This child... whose calamity is he meant to bear?”