Chapter 2

That was why she feared, more than anyone, losing the position she had fought so hard to gain.

Grandmother was unwell and often needed care in the middle of the night.

My room was separated from hers by a single wall, so I could come and go whenever she needed me.

Come and go freely—

Really, it meant working like a beast of burden.

Emptying her chamber pot. Washing her. Cooking. Heating water. Waiting on her.

Whenever she called at night, I had to get up at once.

A second too slow, and she would grab a piece of firewood and beat me furiously.

One sleepless night, I heard footsteps in the courtyard.

I peered out through the window.

Barefoot, in gray-white nightclothes, Grandmother left the house and headed straight for the mountain behind it.

A ruined temple stood up there.

As a little girl gathering firewood, I had stumbled inside once.

Dust covered the statues. Years of weather had stripped their paint until even their faces were indistinct.

I was so frightened that I never dared return.

Grandmother was different.

She entered and didn't come out again.

The first time I followed her, I lay flat in the grass outside. Mosquitoes bit me dozens of times. I didn't dare breathe loudly.

A single oil lamp burned inside.

Its sickly yellow light threw her shadow onto the wall: a hunched monster.

She knelt before the statues, lit incense, arranged offerings, and kowtowed three times.

At the third bow—

Their expressions changed.

The benevolent smiles slowly widened.

In the dark, those mouths looked sly and malevolent, as though someone had slashed the clay faces with a knife.

Their lips didn't move.

But a voice spoke.

A string of numbers.

“Seven… twelve… thirteen… eighteen… twenty-four… twenty-seven… thirty-one.”

Grandmother bowed three more times. Bent low, she backed out of the temple and walked backward all the way home.

Father called the next day.

She read him the numbers.

That evening's lottery draw won him more than a million yuan.

I followed her several more times.

It was always the same.

Once she made her offerings, the statues smiled.

Investment opportunities.

Land about to rise in value.

Officials about to be transferred.

The temple statues told her everything.

She passed the information to her four sons.

From penniless men, Father and his brothers became rich.

They never knew where the information came from.

She wouldn't tell them.

She told me only once.

She was in a good mood that day and, unusually, allowed me to sit at her feet and massage her legs.

She drew on her tobacco pipe, eyes half closed.

Through the smoke, she said:

“The being in that temple is our family's guardian immortal. Your grandfather saved it when he was young, so it attached itself to our family. It can divine the future. It knows everything.”

Father still looked doubtful, but he released my throat.

“Really?”

I remembered Mother's face before she escaped through the dog hole.

“If your father tries to kill you, tell them about your grandmother visiting the temple. Take them there. Once they pray, they won't kill you…”

I drew a deep breath.

I swallowed those words back.

Then nodded hard.

Footsteps hurried outside.

My three uncles crowded into the storeroom.

They had all heard my scream.

Impatience turned to greed on their faces.

Second Uncle shoved Father aside.

“Zhaodi. Take us there.”

That night, they forced me to lead the way.

The moon above the mountain was huge and bright.

Under its light, the winding path looked like a dead snake sprawled through the grass.

I walked ahead.

Four men followed.

No one spoke.

Only heavy breathing and the snap of dry branches underfoot.

The ruined temple stood halfway up the slope.

Third Uncle shone his torch inside.

It was shabbier than they had imagined.

Leaning earthen walls.

Half the roof collapsed.

A torn cobweb hanging from the doorframe.

Not even a signboard.

Pitch-black inside.

“This is it?”

Youngest Uncle sounded contemptuous.

I stepped over the calf-high threshold and entered.

The fruit Grandmother had offered was still on the table.

After half a month, it had rotted and grown mold.

The four men followed.

The statues' eye sockets were black.

Yet I kept feeling eyes watching us.

Father wouldn't approach.

“Do whatever your grandmother did,” he ordered quietly.

My legs shook.

So did my hands.

It took me a long time to find an incense stick beneath the altar.

Several strikes before the match lit.

The moment the incense tip flared—

All four men seemed to hold their breath.

The statue's mouth split into a smile.

“What… do you want this time?”

Hearing it speak, Second Uncle nearly dropped to his knees.

Father recovered first and kicked me hard in the waist.

“Ask it!

“Ask for the next lottery numbers!”

I sprawled on the ground, my voice shaking.

“Please… what numbers will win the next draw?”

A few seconds later, the statue gave its strange, groaning reply.

It recited the numbers.

We hurried home.

The lottery seller was in town, more than an hour's drive away.

By the time we arrived, sales had closed.

Fourth Uncle stamped in frustration.

Second Uncle sat calmly on the sofa.

“What's the hurry? We hardly need that little bit of money now. Wait for the draw tonight. Then we'll know if it's real.”

At half past nine, the family gathered before the television.

Sure enough—

Every number matched.

A winning combination.

We all returned to the temple.

This time, no one made me kneel.

The four men scrambled toward the statues.

Thud. Thud.

They knelt in a row.

Four dogs wagging their tails.

They had brought all the best food from the house.

Second Uncle spoke first.

“Great immortal, bless my property development with approval tomorrow. If the permits go through, I'll recast your image in gold and rebuild this temple!”

The statue's black eyes moved slowly.

They fixed on his face.

Its gloomy smile remained.

“Yes,” it answered.

Third Uncle shoved him aside.

“My turn! Great immortal, the environmental report for my mine has been held up for two years. Tell me—will it pass?”

Fourth Uncle refused to be left out.

“Great immortal! I want a son!”

This time, the statue didn't move.

Its face became expressionless again.

I spoke timidly.

“Grandmother only came on the first and fifteenth days of the lunar month…

“She could only make one wish each time…

“It's already past midnight…”

Apart from Second Uncle, their faces changed.

They had no choice but to leave.

Second Uncle was overjoyed.

“If we'd known the family had an immortal protecting it, why bother waiting on that old woman?

“The damned old hag ordered me around every day.

“Finally, no more coaxing her.”

Mother had told me that Grandmother once lived miserably too.

Even after bearing four sons, she developed a prolapsed uterus.

She had no standing in her husband's family.

When she grew old and ill, the bleeding wouldn't stop.

No one took her to hospital.

Grandfather and Father carried her up the mountain.

They meant to abandon her there to die.

But one day—

She walked home by herself.

Her illness had vanished.

The first thing she said was a set of lottery numbers.

Only then did her sons begin treating her like a treasure.

I watched Second Uncle heading home in delight.

At some point, a dark shape had appeared on his shoulder.

No one else seemed able to see it.

Father and the others saw only something to envy.

I remembered another thing Grandmother had said.

“The beings in that temple aren't immortals.

“They're ghosts.

“And ghosts always demand a price.”

She paid in years of life.

What would Second Uncle pay?

Early the next morning, before it was fully light, Father called me.

“Wake your Second Uncle. We need to see the Daoist.”

Before leaving, the Daoist had warned them.

Forcing Grandmother's life to continue was a grave evil.

After death, she would become a vengeful ghost and return to claim lives.

I knocked.

No answer.

I knocked again.

“Second Uncle?”

Father frowned and pushed me aside.

“Useless girl!”

He hammered on the door.

Louder and louder.

“Second Brother!

“Second Brother!”

Third and Fourth Uncle woke and joined us.

By the window, Third Uncle suddenly covered his nose.

“Something's wrong…

“The smell of blood in there!”

Father's face went white.

He took a step back.