There is an old saying in southwestern Shandong: It is better to sleep in a mass grave than to borrow a bed in the middle of the night.
In the summer of 1999, on the night my father died, someone came to lend his life. I huddled under the bed and saw the man walking in - with a face exactly like mine.
My grandfather left me a bad ledger with seventy-two names written on it, each of which is a "destiny gate" on the road to hell. It is said that every few decades, Huangquan Road will crack 72 cracks, each crack corresponding to a living person. Those "things" don't ask for their lives directly, they just call your name in the middle of the night - once you agree, your life is borrowed.
My father has been guarding me all his life, and it is me who is guarding him until the end.
From southwestern Shandong to Jiaodong Bay, I traveled to more than 100 counties in Shandong and saw hundreds of folk taboos. Every time you find someone, a door opens. Every time you open a door, you are one step closer to the person behind it.
If you hear someone calling your name, don't say yes.
Because you don't know whether the person standing outside the door is a human.
