The grand performance is over, and the old year has officially come to an end. Everyone has to start working hard again for their livelihood. During this period, whether it is the tenant farmers who sell their physical strength or the wealthy landlords, they are all full of energy and present a vibrant state. However, because of the lung disease, people in the county are in a state of panic. Except for extraordinary individuals like my father who are immune to all poisons, most people stay at home, afraid of contracting the disease, so their plans for finding a new livelihood are constantly delayed.
I am no exception. Even though our family had closed the door and took medicine not long ago, we still didn't dare to go out too much after returning from the banquet. When I was bored, I would flip through some popular newspapers that my father brought back. The content of these newspapers mostly revolved around lung diseases, with occasional obscure and difficult-to-understand satirical articles. I sneered at those articles, but the two or three news stories recorded in the newspaper were a good way to pass the time. The newspaper said that the surrounding areas of Chixian County were not only plagued by lung diseases but also showing signs of worsening: medical clinics were overwhelmed and had to close their doors to visitors; countless deceased patients were piled up on heavy carts because there was no time to cremate them; the government simply left it to fate and let the people fend for themselves. What's worse, a dispute arose between a doctor and a patient, and in a fit of anger, the doctor took the patient's life. Although the author vividly described these events, I still felt that human nature couldn't be so cruel. So I treated these newspapers of unknown origin as entertainment and didn't take them too seriously.
One day, I was dozing off on the bed when I suddenly heard someone rushing into the courtyard. I felt annoyed, but I had to put on my shoes and go out to greet the guest. I saw a stranger anxiously looking around in the hall, saying that he was looking for my father to save someone. I was puzzled by this because my father, a simple villager, couldn't possibly know medical skills. But as a young boy, I couldn't ask too many questions, so I had to take him to find my father. After my father inquired about the situation, he learned that this young man had gone to borrow a water ladle from the son of an old boatman, only to find him lying on the bed on the verge of death. Thinking that they had a close relationship, he had no choice but to seek help here. My father frowned and suddenly slapped his thigh, exclaiming in surprise, and quickly followed the young man. Knowing the situation well, I followed closely behind.
When we arrived at the old boatman's house, his son was lying on the bed, weak and with a flushed face, with a handkerchief on his forehead. The house was in a mess, with a fallen copper pot on the ground and not much ash in the stove, indicating that it hadn't been used for some time. My father walked over and examined his condition, instructing me to fetch a bowl of water and three chopsticks. Although I was quite puzzled, I still did as he said. My father inserted the chopsticks into the bowl, and when they stood firmly, he angrily shouted:
"The stubborn old man who's already dead, why do you still torment your poor son!"
As I watched him gradually weaken, my father just stood there shouting at the empty air, and I felt anxious. So I quietly suggested going to find the doctor. But my father just glanced at me and disdainfully said:
"It doesn't matter, can't you see the standing chopsticks?"
"He's the spirit of his deceased parents, coming back to the mortal world to visit, once he's driven away, everything will be fine."
Naturally, I wouldn't listen to my father's nonsense, but looking at his weak state, I felt like he had contracted lung disease. Thinking back to his occasional coughing fits on the boat a few days ago, if that was the case, he was likely to lose his life. I felt a sense of horror, cold sweat streaming down, and hurriedly begged the young man to go with me to find the doctor. The young man was obviously also in a panic and led me out of the house in a daze.
We found the doctor and explained the situation. But the old doctor just glanced at me and coldly said:
"That guy insulted me in public when he was alive, today the kid is repaying the debt for his old man, what's wrong with that?"
"The remnants of a violent family, I won't save him!"
I knew very well that the boatman and his son were not the same kind of people, so I earnestly pleaded with the old doctor for help. After some persuasion, the old doctor reluctantly agreed, but only made a simple diagnosis. Even so, for someone on the verge of death like him, it was still great news. The three of us hurried back, and my father was still making a fuss about the bowl of water. Ironically, his condition did not improve as a result. When my father saw the doctor, he seemed to be quite resentful, as if his divine power had been insulted.
"How can people in the mortal world meddle in the affairs of the underworld?" my father sarcastically said.
The old doctor didn't get angry because of this, he just diagnosed the illness, prescribed medicine, and then said to my father:
"This boy's lung disease is already incurable. I'm afraid his time is running out."
"Boil the medicine according to this prescription and let him drink it. He has done some good deeds, so helping him can be considered accumulating virtue." After saying that, he turned and left.
The old doctor had indeed been moved by compassion, even though he had been insulted by this family before. After the old doctor left, I saw my father stuffing the prescription into his sleeve and then started fussing over the bowl of water again. I felt a mix of emotions but didn't know how to respond.
The doctor's words were proven true. The boatman's son didn't last a few days before passing away. It was a pity that in the first half of his life, he was despised and wandered around; in the second half, he generously gave money but still didn't earn a good reputation and was still criticized by the villagers. Even after his death, he didn't leave behind any children, and his family line came to an end. Thinking of their past relationship, my father couldn't bear to see him exposed in the wilderness, so he helped take care of the funeral and prepared to bury him in the back mountain. On the day of the funeral, the old doctor also came, still speaking harsh words, but I sincerely admired his sense of righteousness. He and my father, along with two other fellow villagers who came to help, carried the coffin towards the back mountain. Along the way, they encountered many fellow villagers, but when they learned about the deceased, most of them quickly walked away with a look of fear. In the eyes of the villagers, dying from lung disease was like being visited by a plague god. Some even falsely claimed that the old doctor had caused the death of someone and was helping to carry the coffin out of guilt, and even threw dirt on his head. The old doctor's face turned red, and he wanted to scold them loudly, but he coughed uncontrollably due to the surge of blood and qi. I felt angry, but my father remained indifferent, so I had no choice. In fact, I was becoming more and more confused by my father's actions. He didn't use the prescription from the doctor but relied on a bowl of water to treat and save people. Now, he showed kindness by helping with the funeral, but he remained silent when the good person was humiliated. I couldn't understand whether he was good or evil.
Digging the ground, lowering the coffin, covering the soil, and smoothing it out, my father scattered some money for their hard work, and then we all went our separate ways.
As they left, the old doctor's back became even more hunched, his face pale, and he coughed violently as if his life force had been drained.
My father muttered for me to go home, lit a cigarette, and walked slowly. I felt rebellious and deliberately walked quickly, not saying a word along the way.
I couldn't sleep because of the events in the morning, and I thought about the newspapers I had read a few days ago. Could it be that the vivid and unbelievable descriptions were all true, and human nature could be so cruel?
I still couldn't understand.
A few days later, the old doctor committed suicide, and it wasn't until the smell of decay came from his house that he was discovered.
My father said that people in the mortal world couldn't meddle in the affairs of the underworld.
Little did he know that people in the mortal world had long become evil spirits.
The bustling streets were actually devoid of people.
The walking bodies were wrapped in rotten hearts.
Those who should die brought chaos to the world.
Those who should live had their souls return to heaven.