Corpse Buddha 1969

The Yellow River... is more than just a river. It is alive. It has breath, a pulse, and... diseases and filth.

My archaeology professor, who had been sent down to perform hard labor, secretly cut open the belly of a river corpse late one night. To our astonishment, my family’s ancestral bronze compass rolled out, smeared with fresh blood. The next day, the village broadcast announced: No one is to go near the back mountain. An earthquake last night cracked open the Demon-Suppressing Pagoda, sealed for a hundred years. The old village chief muttered, “The pagoda’s fallen. That ‘Corpse Immortal’ should be coming out to find a replacement...” That night, all the livestock died without a sound, their heads all turned toward the professor’s bed. Muddy handprints appeared on the window, and a figure that was almost human stood outside the door...

It imitated my mother’s voice and called softly, “Son, open the door. Your mother’s cold...”