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Now reading: Chapter 111 - 108: Ghost Festival Terror from 80s Transmigration: The Young Widow's Hustle to Riches, a Romance novel by Back to the 1980s: A Widow Hustles Her Way to Wealth.

The main hall opened into a spacious front room where several of the uncles sat on round, woven-straw stools. They placed stacks of joss paper on a round tree stump and used wooden mallets to strike iron, tile-shaped punches, perforating the sheets before sealing them into packets.

Great-Grandpa, his hair and beard completely white, sat at a small square table writing on the blessing packets. A large wicker basket beside him was already full of them.

One of the aunts brought over two bamboo chairs, smiling in greeting. "Auntie, Lin Lan, have a seat."

"Thank you," Lin Lan said with a smile, handing the joss paper and candy to her aunt.

When Great-Grandpa saw the Old Madam arrive, he set down his brush and smiled. "Ah, you’re here!"

The Old Madam smiled and nodded. "You’re busy, Brother. Please, don’t mind ."

"Great-Grandpa!" Lin Lan called out.

Great-Grandpa looked at Lin Lan. "You’re from the youngest son’s family? You look... different from before."

The Old Madam laughed. "She is different. She’s hardworking now, no longer lazy. She’s full of life."

The Great-Grandpa, his eyes glinting sharply, glanced at Lin Lan and nodded. "Now that you’re here, just focus on living a good life."

Lin Lan’s heart skipped a beat. "Yes, Great-Grandpa," she said respectfully.

After leaving Great-Grandpa’s house, the Old Madam reminded Lin Lan to keep a close watch on Little Douzi and not to wander near the mountain graves during the dayti before the fourteenth of the seventh month.

She also told her not to linger at crossroads if she went out at night, and to take a detour if she saw anyone burning joss paper...

Lin Lan nodded in understanding.

Back ho, Lin Yuezhen signed to Lin Lan, "Little Lan, I want to go back to Shilian in a couple of days. I bought joss paper to burn for Mom and Dad."

"Okay!" Lin Lan agreed. She went inside and brought out twenty yuan for her. "Here, Sister. Take this."

Lin Yuezhen quickly pulled out the money Lin Lan usually gave her, insisting she still had enough for the trip ho.

Lin Lan took her hand and pressed the money into her palm. "Take it, Sister. Buy so at and vegetables when you get back so you can make a proper offering."

Lin Yuezhen nodded, touched.

The day before the Ghost Festival, Lin Yuezhen returned to Shilian to burn the joss paper.

Lin Lan went to Great-Grandpa’s house and saw him stacking the inscribed blessing packets and loose joss paper on the Eight Immortals table in the center of the main hall. The table was reserved for offerings. He lit incense and candles and laid out the at, candy, and fruit that various families had brought.

On the day of the festival, before the joss paper was burned, Great-Grandpa distributed the offered fruit and candy among the children, saying that the ancestors would bless them to grow up healthy and free from illness and pain.

After everyone kowtowed in worship, Great-Grandpa and several uncles stacked the blessing packets upright. They used incense sticks to light a few loose sheets of joss paper, placing them under the stack and gradually adding more until the fire blazed high.

Light, grayish-white flecks of ash from the burned paper, still glowing with faint red embers, rose with the flas and drifted on the gentle breeze into the sky above the courtyard.

Dandan whispered, "Great-Grandma, when do the ancestors co to get the money? Can we see them?"

One of her uncles, who was tending the fire, pointed to the red-glowing embers. "Look, Dandan," he said. "The ancestors are collecting their money now."

An older boy looked at him. "Grandpa, why can’t we see them?"

Another uncle nearby said, "Gangwa, if you kids find a roof tile, put it on your head, and hide in the corner by the door, you’ll be able to see the ancestors coming to get their money—so in sedan chairs, so on horseback, and so with carrying poles."

"Oh!" All the children turned in unison to look at the space behind the main doors. A mont later, they all shook their heads. "We’re too scared to go."

Lin Lan rembered her own elders telling the sa story. Back then, her generation had been just as curious, but none of them ever dared to test the tale with a roof tile and a dark corner. The legend was simply passed down, generation after generation.

After they finished burning the paper for their own ancestors, they began burning offerings for the wandering ghosts and lonely souls with no descendants to honor them. They even burned a few packets for the lesser spirits, who were said to act as sedan-bearers and cart-pushers for the ancestors in the afterlife.

Once all the paper was burned, Lin Lan and the other won gathered the ashes into wicker baskets. They carried them to the edge of an irrigation channel and poured them into the water, letting the current carry them away.

Back at Great-Grandpa’s house, the n sat in the front room drinking and playing finger-guessing gas. The won snacked, drank, and gossiped, while the children played hide-and-seek in the courtyard. The air was filled with laughter and cheerful noise.

By the ti they left Great-Grandpa’s house, it was already getting late. Yang Dingbang supported the Old Madam as they headed ho.

Little Douzi and Dandan trailed behind them, hand in hand, chattering excitedly about the best hiding spots for their next ga of hide-and-seek.

The rice stalks bent low, weighted down by heavy heads of grain. The paddies had turned into a golden ocean.

A Dong Chicken called incessantly from the middle of the paddies, "GUDONG! GUDONG!"

Hearing the familiar call, Lin Lan rembered how as a child she had always wanted to catch one. ’I wonder what those ’gudong-gudong’ creatures actually look like?’

Once the Ghost Festival passed, the production brigade would begin the rice harvest.

The Old Madam said cheerfully, "Heaven’s been kind to us this year. The grain in the fields is so full and plump."

Lin Lan nodded. "The brigade announced the harvest starts tomorrow. Liying even bought work points from Sister He’s husband."

The Old Madam chuckled. "Liying made the right call. During the busy season, you work yourself to death for less than twenty cents a day. She can make that back in no ti with her stall."

"Exactly!"

Lin Lan looked up at the sky, feeling that the moon cast a strange, reddish, and chilling light tonight.

When they reached the back door of the Old Madam’s house, Lin Lan glanced up again. The moon had slipped behind a pillar-shaped cloud, as if it were spying on the mortal world below.

At her doorstep, the Old Madam said to Yang Dingbang, "See your sister-in-law and Little Douzi ho."

"You got it!" Yang Dingbang picked up Little Douzi and escorted the pair to the bridge. He waited until he saw them open their gate and go inside the courtyard before he turned and walked back.

Once ho, Lin Lan took out a separate packet of joss paper she had prepared for the body’s original owner. She brought Little Douzi into the courtyard and burned it for her, praying that her spirit could finally rest in peace.

Little Douzi looked at her, confused. "Mama, didn’t we just burn paper at Great-Grandpa’s house?"

Lin Lan thought for a mont. "One of Mama’s sisters passed away from an illness a little while ago," she said. "From now on, we need to burn paper for her, too."

Little Douzi nodded. "Okay."

When the paper had turned to ash, Lin Lan scooped it into a dustpan and poured it into the drainage channel outside. She called Dahuang back in from his spot by the gate, and then she and her son bolted the doors, washed up, and went to bed.

Lying in bed and listening to Little Douzi’s steady breathing, Lin Lan felt a strange sense of unease. She tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep for a long ti.

She had just managed to drift off when, in a drowsy haze, she thought she heard Dahuang let out a sharp, pitiful "YELP!" In the next instant, there was only silence.

Lin Lan shot bolt upright, straining her ears. Nothing. Just as she was about to call out for Dahuang, she heard what sounded like soft, slow footsteps ascending the stone steps to their door.

Lin Lan’s heart hamred against her ribs. She clenched her fists, her body breaking out in a cold sweat until her palms were slick. She listened intently again, but heard nothing more.

She took a deep breath, slipped out of bed, and quietly put on her shoes. She felt for the dagger under her pillow, slid it into her pajama pocket, then grabbed the wooden club from beside her bed. Moving to the window, she carefully lifted a corner of the curtain. She peered out into the cold moonlight—the courtyard was empty.

From her angle, she couldn’t see the kitchen door. Just as she was about to shift her position to check, she heard a faint sound coming from the kitchen entrance—a soft scraping, like a mouse gnawing on wood.

’There really is a thief!’

Lin Lan’s heart began to pound violently. For a few seconds, all the strength drained out of her, and her legs felt so weak that she nearly collapsed.

She quickly steadied herself against a trunk, took two deep breaths, and clenched her fists to steel herself.

’Lin Lan, you can’t be scared. If you give in to fear, it’s all over. You have Little Douzi to think about... What happened to Dahuang? Did the thief beat him to death? Or poison him? Who is it? Could it be Liu Jinbao?’

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