I am the village guard of Chenjiacun, and I have never left the land where I was born and raised. Ever since I was three years old, I have been surrounded by strange things. The dark figure squatting at the door of the stove, the little hands grabbing my feet under the bed, and the inexplicable small footprints appearing on the threshold have all been engraved in my life-long memory.
In this rural land, the old locust trees hide the obsession of children who died young, the ancient well echoes with the soft sound of a woman combing her hair, the bottom of the river bend hides the ghost that pulls people's ankles, the clay dolls in the mountain temple are untouchable, and the spinning wheel in the abandoned old house will spin in the middle of the night. I have seen the white cloth shoes I walked on, heard the green lights on the graves that attract souls, met the soulless old lady who borrowed a fire in the middle of the night, and bumped into the shadow of shoes walking on their own during the vigil.
From childhood to adulthood, from youth to old age, I have experienced a hundred strange things in the countryside. These souls are not as ferocious as the legends. Most of them are dead souls who are reluctant to leave their homeland, lonely souls who miss their families, or poor people who left with resentment. They only appear late at night, guarding the old house, looking at their homeland, and thinking about their relatives.
As a village guard, I guard not only the village, but also the yin and yang of the past hidden in the countryside, which is a concern that generations of villagers cannot let go. These one hundred stories are my personal experiences in my life. They are the most authentic rumors in the countryside. They are also the gentlest and most gloomy yin and yang of the world hidden under the smoke of fireworks. Tonight, I sit around the fire pot and slowly tell you the ghost stories of this life.
