The Rural Doctor of the Mountain Spirit

  My name is Xiao Sen, I am a doctor, a traveling doctor walking in the mountain village.

  But I'm different from other doctors because I'm a ghost doctor, a doctor who can communicate with things outside of the living.

  Talk with them and communicate with them.

  You might think this profession is strange and unusual, which is normal. Because I used to doubt it too. I don't believe in ghosts or gods. But in the end, I became a ghost doctor.

  And I ended up getting involved in this weird profession, everything was because of my grandfather, that damned old man.

  In the small mountain village where I was born, there is a taboo: don't go out after nightfall, and don't lift coffins after noon.

  No one knows when this rule was established, but since our village was founded until now, the rule has been followed for several hundred years and has never been broken.

  No one knows what will happen if the rules are broken. The only person who knows is my grandfather, because he has tried it before.

  But it just so happens that my grandfather was a madman, the only person in the village who broke the rules and became a madman after breaking the rules.

  Speaking of my grandfather being a madman, I feel it most deeply.

  I vividly remember that when I was five years old, my grandfather almost choked me to death with his own hands in his house.

  My grandfather is crazy, but he doesn't usually have an episode. He likes to stay in his own room all the time, without turning on the lights, just sitting quietly. When it's mealtime, I'm responsible for delivering food to him. Actually, before he went crazy, he had a certain status in the village. According to legend, he was once a Taoist priest, but during the destruction of the old regime, he was beaten by the Red Guards and eventually wandered back to the village.

  This day was a bit different, his door was wide open, and there were bursts of conversation coming from inside. I was a little curious, so I walked in. As soon as I stepped in, my grandfather suddenly popped out from behind the door and grabbed my neck tightly.

  His face was menacing, his teeth were bared, the veins on his forehead bulged, and his eyes were bloodshot. As he choked my neck, he also said to me: "Get out of here, don't come into my house, don't think I don't know who you are."

  I struggled and shouted loudly: "I am your grandson, grandfather."

  But his strength was great, and I was pinched by him. In just a short while, I had no more strength left. It wasn't until my parents arrived that they were able to snatch me away from my grandfather's hands.

  My childhood was almost a nightmare, darkness, coldness, pain and despair were almost the entirety of my life at that time, without any sunlight.

  It's all because my grandfather was a madman that the villagers avoided me everywhere and pointed at me behind my back.

  In the surrounding villages and towns within a radius of ten miles, my grandfather's deeds were also widely known and almost everyone knew about them.

  But one day, due to an accidental discovery, I suddenly began to suspect that Grandpa was not crazy at all, but rather pretending to be so.

  That time, our village had a death, named Ya Lao San. This man made a living by raising ducks, with forty or fifty ducks under his hand, and lived a comfortable life.

  No one could have imagined that he would end up dying at the hands of a duck. As for how he died, no one knows. That morning, Duck Old Three's wife got up early to make breakfast for Duck Old Three, and after eating, Duck Old Three went out to let the ducks out, while his wife was cleaning up the bowls and chopsticks in the house.

  After he finished sweeping, when he went out the door, he found that his whole courtyard was full of ducks, but Duck Old Third was nowhere to be seen. Duck Old Third's wife came to the duck shed and saw Duck Old Third lying on the ground with his mouth, ears, nose, and eyes all stuffed with duck feathers, already dead as a doornail.

  After Duck Old Three died, many bats and crows came to the village, and the originally clear sky suddenly darkened. The villagers all said that Duck Old Three's death was probably unjust.

  On that day, an uneasy atmosphere spread throughout the village. However, this had nothing to do with me; the villagers have never been kind to my family anyway.

  However, just as I was sleeping soundly that night, my grandfather's door suddenly creaked open. I looked up to see my grandfather sneaking out of the room with a cat-like gait. I was startled and almost cried out in surprise.

  Normally, I rarely see my grandfather leave his room. His actions made me feel eerie. However, I was more puzzled, so I quietly got up and followed him.

  That night, the darkness was particularly gloomy. There were a few clouds floating in the sky, blocking more than half of the moon, but not a single star could be seen.

  I followed behind Grandpa without realizing it and ended up at Duck Old Third's house.

  At that time, I was young, but I was very resistant to the dead, and it can be said that I was afraid and terrified. However, I still followed up, hiding alone outside Duck Old Three's house, my eyes staring at my grandfather.

  My grandfather didn't notice me and walked straight into the mourning hall.

  At this moment, the mourning hall suddenly heard a few loud noises. I followed the sound and looked over, my eyes finally fell on Duck Old Three's coffin. The sound was coming from inside Duck Old Three's coffin.

  Suddenly, the coffin lid slammed shut again with a loud bang. Duck Old Three's coffin board jumped high into the air. And inside the coffin, Duck Old Three sat up. I absolutely did not see it wrong, the already deceased Duck Old Three, sat up from inside the coffin.

  Only saw that Duck Old Three's face was covered with circles of red hair, and his mouth had two fangs, with a fierce light on his face.

  Just then, my grandfather walked into the mourning hall and pressed his hand on Duck Old Three's head, and Duck Old Three was actually pressed down to lie in the coffin. But when Grandfather turned around to pick up the coffin board, as soon as he let go, Duck Old Three sat up again from the coffin, making a series of fierce gasping sounds with his mouth.

  After my grandfather picked up the coffin board, he pressed it on Duck Old Three's head again. When Duck Old Three lay down, my grandfather slammed the coffin board shut with a bang.

  Then I witnessed a terrifying scene that I will never forget for the rest of my life.

  The coffin lid was closed, and my grandfather suddenly pulled out a small knife from his body. Then, he cut his palm with the knife, and a stream of blood gushed out immediately.

  Up to this point, in this series of actions, I hadn't seen a single hint of madness from my grandfather. But just as he was about to cut his palm with the knife, my grandfather suddenly went mad again.

  He suddenly climbed onto Yaolao San's coffin, and a chilling laughter came out of his mouth. Then, with an eerie smile on his face, he kept rolling around on the coffin.

  How to roll over? It's like sleeping in bed, rolling left and right non-stop.

  I was outside the mourning hall, staring at my grandfather with a weird smile on his face, and rolling around non-stop on Duck Old Three's coffin. This scene almost scared me to collapse on the spot.

  It's also unknown how long it took, but Grandpa stopped rolling over, and the duck old three in the coffin seemed to have completely calmed down. The coffin no longer made any noise, and afterwards, Duck Old Three's body didn't make any more movements either.

  At this time, Ya Lao San's coffin board had turned a bloody red, and my grandfather was also covered in blood from head to toe, looking extremely terrifying.

  He walked out of the mourning hall and as he passed in front of me, I caught a strong smell of blood.

  Soon, Grandpa walked in the direction of my home in the night, his footsteps also becoming lighter and lighter, finally pushing open the door of my home with a cat-like stealth.

  I followed up and leaned on the door to listen, after my grandfather had completely calmed down, I pushed the door open gently according to my grandfather's method and walked in.

  The next day, the funeral of Duck Old Three continued. When the villagers arrived at Duck Old Three's mourning hall, they saw blood on the coffin and were frightened. Then, they opened the lid of Duck Old Three's coffin, and a burst of yin energy suddenly emerged from it. The Duck Old Three in the coffin had a ferocious glow on his face, fangs growing out of his mouth, and red hair growing on his face. It was only then that I learned from the villagers' mouths that this was called a zombie.

  The villagers saw the corpse of Duck Old Three, and one by one they were suddenly frightened pale, hastily rushing to find a Taoist priest from another village. The Taoist priest saw the corpse of Duck Old Three and the blood on the coffin, but became extremely indignant, and said something that left the villagers puzzled.

  "Your village clearly has people who understand what's going on, are you trying to fool me and make a joke out of me?"

  Soon, the Taoist hastily carried his own package and left. The villagers were worried and chased after him to ask urgently: "Sir, what does this mean? Can't you handle this zombie either?"

  The Taoist scolded without turning his head: "This zombie has long been cured by someone..."

  The villagers were bewildered, and the Taoist's words were also unclear. But I was shocked in my heart. It was obvious that the person who understood the Taoist's words was my grandfather, my crazy grandfather.

  My grandfather wasn't crazy at all, but why did he pretend to be? I started to feel curious.

  But I never thought that because of this curiosity, I got my crazy grandfather killed.