My name is Wang Miao, and I was born in a drafty adobe house at the end of the village. My ancestors have been farmers digging in the soil for generations.
There are real ghosts in this world, I have known about this since I was a child. The sound of water being drawn from the old well in the west of the village can be heard in the middle of the night, but there is no one on the well platform; in the tombs in the back hill, there are always dots of will-o'-wisps floating in the air, which make a whining sound when the wind blows, much like a woman's cry.
I'm scared to death of ghosts.
I don't know any Taoist skills. I have only heard about the skills of drawing talismans, chanting incantations, and stepping on the steel pole from the mouths of the old goddesses in the village. When I saw a hungry ghost squatting in the corner, I didn't dare to say anything, so I could only hold my breath and sneak away quickly against the wall. At night, I heard the sound of fingernails scratching the door panel outside the window. I was shivering under the quilt, and I didn't even dare to cry.
People in the village say that I am as timid as a mouse, but they don't know that those green-faced, fanged shadows and those sinister sighs can really haunt people.
I just want to cultivate my land peacefully and guard my half acre of thin farmland for the rest of my life. But unfortunately, that day when I was collecting firewood in the mountains, I bumped into a girl in a white skirt. She was floating in the air, with no shadow under her feet, and she smiled at me.
My legs were so frightened that I collapsed on the ground.
Who would have thought that I, who was so afraid of ghosts to my core, would be entangled by a ghost and thus embark on the path of a Taoist priest.
The writing is good, food and supplies