Grandpa is the last Taoist priest in the village.
When he was alive, people in the village were afraid of him, saying that he was unclean because he dealt with dead people.
On the day of his death, the whole village came.
But during the funeral, the coffin suddenly became as heavy as a mountain, and eight strong men could not lift it. There was a pool of black water seeping out from under the coffin, and a copper bell that I had never seen rolled out of the water.
The expressions of the old people in the village changed and they said it was because the dead refused to leave.
I don't believe it.
Until the first seven nights, grandpa's voice came from outside the door.
"Peace, don't open the door."
The next second, a piece of wet yellow paper was stuffed through the crack of the door.
There is only one line of crooked blood words on it:
Tonight, another person will die in the village.
From that moment on, I realized that what my grandfather left me was not an inheritance, but an unfulfilled debt.
