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地眼之子：白山黑水一百夜
Zyunc
Among the continuous white mountains and black waters of the Northeast, there is a little-known legend: every hundred years, a "son of the eye of the earth" is born in an ordinary farmhouse. He was born with the ability to see things that ordinary people cannot see, hear the whispers in the wind, and talk to the sleeping beings under this land. My name is Chen Qingshan, and I was born in the winter of 1995 in a small village called Kaoshantun in Jilin Province. It is said that the night I was born, all the dogs in the village howled in unison, and the 300-year-old locust tree at the entrance of the village folded in the wind. When the midwife carried me out of the house, she saw a snow-white fox squatting on the roof of my earthen house. It glanced at me, nodded, and then disappeared in the wind and snow. From an early age, I knew I was different from others. I could see "those things" that grandma called - the blurry figures wandering on the field ridges at dusk, the wet long-haired woman at the mouth of the well, the pale faces standing outside the window at night and peering in. I could hear a low growl coming from the valley that belonged to no known animal. I can even smell the decadent sweet fragrance that only I can detect coming from certain places. Grandma said that it is the "earth atmosphere", the breath that seeps out from the cracks in the door to another world. My great-grandfather was the last shaman in the village. Before he died, he touched my head and said: "This child was chosen by the eye of the earth. He cannot escape or avoid it. But remember, seeing is one thing, interfering is another."
Among the continuous white mountains and black waters of the Northeast, there is a little-known legend: every hundred years, a "son of the eye of the earth" is born in an ordinary farmhouse. He was born with the ability to see things that ordinary people cannot see, hear the whispers in the wind, and talk to the sleeping beings under this land. My name is Chen Qingshan, and I was born in the winter of 1995 in a small village called Kaoshantun in Jilin Province. It is said that the night I was born, all the dogs in the village howled in unison, and the 300-year-old locust tree at the entrance of the village folded in the wind. When the midwife carried me out of the house, she saw a snow-white fox squatting on the roof of my earthen house. It glanced at me, nodded, and then disappeared in the wind and snow. From an early age, I knew I was different from others. I could see "those things" that grandma called - the blurry figures wandering on the field ridges at dusk, the wet long-haired woman at the mouth of the well, the pale faces standing outside the window at night and peering in. I could hear a low growl coming from the valley that belonged to no known animal. I can even smell the decadent sweet fragrance that only I can detect coming from certain places. Grandma said that it is the "earth atmosphere", the breath that seeps out from the cracks in the door to another world. My great-grandfather was the last shaman in the village. Before he died, he touched my head and said: "This child was chosen by the eye of the earth. He cannot escape or avoid it. But remember, seeing is one thing, interfering is another."