The Nightmare Experience of a Useless Person

"Before he died, Father... instructed that no one should announce his death or post an obituary. The funeral should be simple, and he should be laid to rest in peace." Jiang Shuo's voice was low and hoarse, as deathly as the room.

Old Jiang meant that he didn't want the people at Lok Sin Tong to know...

It was cold and damp, and everything in front of me was shrouded in darkness. Only a strong fragrance wafted into my nostrils, making it hard to breathe.

Qingjun pinched his nose, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness.

In the center of the empty inner room, two simple benches were placed on either side, covered with a thin wooden board. The person lay quietly on them, covered with two layers of red cloth.

The man's face was not visible; only a swollen and stiff hand was exposed to the air. Beside him was a cane, the very one that Old Jiang usually used.

Was that man really Chiang Kai-shek?

Qingjun wanted to ask him a question, but the silence in the room silenced her.

In the dimly lit room, only one tall window was open, through which a few rays of extremely bright light shone onto the red cloth in front of Old Chiang, vivid and dazzling.

Qingjun quickly looked away, somewhat at a loss.

"Coming." A hoarse voice suddenly came from the shadows. It was Aunt Dong. She stood up, but seemed about to collapse.

"I'll do it." Jiang Shuo helped his mother sit down and lit an incense stick for the two of them.

Qingjun carefully took the incense and, imitating Jiang Zhiyang, held it, knelt, and bowed. But when she stood up again, the person beside her remained motionless.

The thin man lay on the ground, his shoulders trembling uncontrollably. After a heavy breath, all the heart-wrenching cries and howls erupted as he shouted, using all his strength, for Old Jiang's name.

But the person didn't respond...

He would no longer respond, no longer smile, no longer sit up panting, no longer grab that broken cane and bang it on the table and wall, no longer pretend to be annoyed and pinch Jiang Zhiyang's cheek to make him obey...

He just lay there, motionless.

Jiang Zhiyang's cries were useless; he only shook off the incense ash in vain, leaving a scalding mark on the back of his hand.

Aunt Dong, suppressing her sobs, placed the three incense sticks into the incense burner for Jiang Zhiyang. "Don't cry, don't cry. Old Jiang is already this old, without any illness or pain, without any suffering. He's just old... just old."

"If he hadn't refused, I would have hired those trumpets and suonas to play for three days and three nights!" She stroked the young man's back and pulled him tightly into her arms. "Call him, call him... you've left me behind..."

"Don't cry, don't cry..." Jiang Shuo covered his tear-filled eyes and gently rubbed his mother's back with his left hand, as if there was a bruise there, and as long as it was rubbed open, the pain would dissipate.

But it was all in vain. Everyone said not to cry, but no one could control their tears. Later, in the empty mourning hall, only sobs rose and fell.

Except for Qingjun.

She couldn't quite describe her feelings; she just felt that the house was terrifyingly unfamiliar. Everything was still there, yet nothing was gone.

The laughter ceased, the playful shouts vanished, and those beautiful memories seemed like fleeting clouds. Beneath the roof, only a deathly silence remained. Qingjun looked up and saw the white dust helplessly fluttering in the sunlight, and the burning paper money flying around, turning into the only snowfall of this spring day.

Perhaps she was confused.

Was that a living person lying there? Of course not. He had stopped breathing, his spirit was gone, and he was just a decaying, empty shell of flesh.

Was he dead? Probably not. Just a moment ago, he was sitting under the peach tree listening to Xiulian tell stories. His eyes blinked, his lips smiled, and he, like Qingjun, was filled with joy at the children's play.

No, no, he's dead! His soul will go to the underworld, where he will cross bridges and rivers with countless other spirits, entering the cycle of reincarnation!

But, but that's Chiang Kai-shek! How could he be dead?

Why are they crying? The person lying there is dead!

Her head ached, she felt dizzy, and even breathing became difficult. She seemed to be out of her mind, her reason and emotion contradicting and struggling with each other, all in a mess. But when she looked up and saw Jiang Zhiyang's tear-streaked face, everything vanished, and finally, tears streamed down her face.

He's dead. He's really dead.

Grief is a blank, a state of nothingness, nothingness, a letting go of emotions, letting weariness wash over you, allowing time to pass, diluting the pain into a trickle that flows into the distant future.

"Where's Ah Lang?" Jiang Zhiyang snapped out of his grief, only then remembering the dog that had disappeared that morning. "Has Ah Lang come back?"

He staggered to his feet, his eyes darting around in confusion, but he couldn't see Ah Lang anywhere. There was no sound of Ah Lang in the quiet Leshan Hall.

But Jiang Zhiyang knew that Ah Lang was here, Ah Lang must be here!

"Where's Ah Lang!" Hot tears streamed down her face from her swollen eyes, and her legs, which had just managed to steady her, lost their balance once again.

"Last night, Ah Lang probably realized that Lao Jiang had left... so he ran back on his own..." Bitterness choked her throat, and Aunt Dong could no longer speak. She struggled to raise her trembling arm and pointed to the backyard.

What does this mean? Jiang Zhiyang felt a chill run down his spine. He half-fell, half-knelt as he ran to the backyard, only to find two mounds of earth, one large and one small.

Ah Lang? Is that Ah Lang? Jiang Zhiyang seemed to lose control and was about to dig up the soil. He didn't have time to wait for anyone's answer. He was going to dig up the soil now and see if Ah Lang was inside.

"No, no, no..." Jiang Shuo chased after him, using all his strength to barely pin the crazed man down.

"When I opened the door this morning, I discovered that Ah Lang had run over and died outside the gate..."

"And the other one!" Jiang Zhiyang's eyes widened, like bowls filled with anger, panic, helplessness, and sorrow.

"It's crabapple."

He stopped struggling and let his hair fall loose, sticking to the damp fresh soil.

Why? Why did this happen? Everything was fine yesterday, how come today... Why? Why! He clenched his hands, his nails digging into his flesh, leaving clear bloodstains.

It's his fault! It's all his fault! He should have known Ah Lang had gone out when he heard the noise last night. If he... if he had gone out to look for him earlier, Ah Lang wouldn't have...

"It's alright, it's alright." Jiang Shuo dug into his fist, gently rubbing his tense knuckles. "They're all good children. Mother said that A Lang and Ma Tang were just worried that the road to the underworld would be difficult, so they went to accompany Father on his journey... They'll be reborn into a good family..."

You'll be born into a good family...

As the sun sets in the west, its crimson rays paint the sky and soak into the clouds. When a warm breeze blows, the sky becomes like a pool of spring water, with a thin mist floating on it.

It's cooking smoke; whose family is gathering together again? But I can't hear any laughter or chatter; all I can hear are the rhythmic buzzing of insects and the cheerful chirping of birds.

On such a peaceful day, the courtyard was so deserted. The flowers had withered, and only one or two rotten stems remained in the broken flowerpots. The flock of chickens was gone, leaving only a very thin one, huddled in the sand, neither crowing nor chirping. The peach tree had not yet sprouted buds, but it had already shaken off pieces of dry bark, which, along with the sand and withered leaves, were swept by the wind to a corner of the courtyard.

As night fell, the house became extremely dark, with only the incense burning day and night, twinkling like stars.

Qingjun and Jiang Zhiyang knelt together beside Jiang Shuo. Their bodies were already numb, but their minds were spinning in waves.

She recalled the first time she came to Leshan Hall. The courtyard gate was trembling, and there were countless people in the courtyard. Everyone was crowded together, playing and laughing. They all listened to Jiang Zhiyang and Jiang Shuo, but the two of them were not like adults. Instead, they were the kings of the children, the leaders of the monkey troop.

When I first met Lao Jiang, he was sitting comfortably in a chair, letting Aunt Dong fix his hair. Ah Lang was lively and active, and loved to circle around people. However, Ma Tang was different; he was an old donkey that looked very tired.

"...Ah Li, Xiao Tao, and Xuan Xuan, we're back to see you. Here you go..."

Ali, Xiaotao, Xuanxuan? Where are you?