Weird Things: Yin Goat and Goat

In the 31st year of the Republic of China, my father died at the Black Wind Gate of Yinshan Mountain. The death was extremely miserable, all the blood had been drained from the body, and the skin was as deflated as a crumpled yellow paper, sticking to the bones. He fell outside the fence of his sheep pen, still holding the half-broken sheep whip in his hand, his eyes widened, as if he had seen something extremely terrifying before he died. That morning, when my mother discovered my father's body, she went crazy on the spot. She hugged my father's body and cried heartbrokenly. She repeatedly chanted: "The black sheep... Is the black sheep..." I was only twelve years old at the time, huddled in the corner of the sheepfold, looking at my father's body, shaking like chaff. All the sheep in the sheepfold were wilting, huddled in the corner and did not dare to make a sound. Only the innermost black sheep raised its head, its two horns were glowing green, and its dark eyes were staring at me. That sheep was picked up by my father from Heifengkou half a month ago.