Chapter 3
Edward Quan ·
With that, Uncle ran into the yard and vanished into the white curtain of snow.
Grandma shook her head.
“The spotted pig is dead. It’s furious. We didn’t bury its remains, and tomorrow is the third day.”
“What are we going to do?”
8
Grandpa clenched his teeth.
“What’s there to fear? Are two old people going to let a pig frighten them?”
He took several draws on his pipe, his eyes bloodshot.
“Tomorrow, I’ll slaughter it again. See whether it dares come back.”
Grandma trembled.
“It’s become a spirit. How can we fight it? Give back the gold and bury the meat. Let it rest.”
He shook his head.
“Once gold’s in my hand, no one gets it back.”
“We’ll deal with it when Wenshui returns. The three of us.”
He lay back on the kang, his belly stretched as though it might burst.
That evening, Uncle came home carrying something.
A human skin.
Blood still clung to it.
Chen Li’s skin.
It was empty. Everything inside had been eaten.
“Dad! Mom!”
He wailed.
“Lili’s dead! We hadn’t even registered our marriage!”
Grandpa scarcely raised his eyes.
“Dead is dead. What’s the use of talking about marriage?”
Uncle shook.
“How could this happen? Why did she die?”
“Because of you,” Grandpa said indifferently. “You killed the spotted pig. It’s taking revenge.”
Uncle stared in horror.
Grandma told him everything that had happened over the past three days.
Grandpa drew on his pipe.
“It’ll come tomorrow morning. We’ll set out meat and liquor. Lure it inside.”
“If it agrees to leave, fine.”
“If not, I’ll cut off its head.”
His eyes were as deep as black pits.
There was nothing human left in them.
At dawn, thick fog lay over the village.
Grandma rose early, lit the stove, and prepared the meal.
In the yard, Uncle sharpened the cleaver.
The steady scrape chilled me to the bone.
9
“Dad…” His voice trembled as he sharpened it. “Are you sure the spotted pig will come back?”
Grandpa drew on his pipe. Thick smoke rolled from his mouth.
“It’ll come.”
“I still have its gold.”
He took out the small, pebble-sized ingot. It gleamed in the lamplight.
Grandma cooked eight dishes. Meat, liquor, rice, vegetables filled the table.
Grandpa poured several cups of clear liquor.
They waited for sunset.
Darkness came. Wind whistled through the door cracks.
Still, no spotted pig.
Grandpa grew restless, going out to scan the yard.
Grandma murmured, “Perhaps it won’t come. Perhaps it’s forgiven us…”
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Both of them jumped.
Grandma hurried me into the east room.
“Stay here. Don’t come out!”
I crept to the window.
An enormous creature entered the yard.
A pig’s head on a human body.
A deep, unhealed cut marked its neck.
The spotted pig.
It came inside, red eyes sweeping the room.
Grandpa bent low and smiled ingratiatingly.
“Please… sit down. Have something to eat.”
The creature sat.
After looking around, it spoke in a rasp that was half human, half beast.
“Bai Laoba. You’re a good man.”
“But too greedy.”
Grandpa’s hands shook as he poured.
“It was my fault, honored Pig. I was wrong. Please spare my family.”
The pig glanced at the cup and gave a cold laugh.
“One drink, and you think we’re finished? You underestimate me.”
It smashed the cup to the floor. Liquor splashed everywhere.
Panicking, Grandpa pulled out the gold.
“Here! I’ll give it back! Please spare us!”
“I don’t want the gold.”
“Build me a shrine. Keep incense burning for a hundred years. Then I’ll let you go.”
Grandpa’s expression changed.
“A shrine? Worship you like a god? That’s too much!”
Its harsh laugh ran down my spine.
“Then don’t.”
“I’ll take your life instead.”
Grandpa sprang up, stuffed the gold back into his pocket, and shouted.
“Wenshui! Now!”
Uncle rushed from the storeroom, cleaver raised.
“Die, you beast!”
Grandpa overturned the table and charged with an axe.
The pig sat without moving.
The cleaver swung.
A sickening thud.
Its head fell.
Uncle laughed wildly.
“Dad! Mom! I killed it!”
Then a body crashed to the floor.
He looked down.
It wasn’t the pig.
It was his father.
And what he held wasn’t a pig’s head.
It was Grandpa’s.
Across from him, the spotted pig still sat in its chair, smiling crookedly.
“Ha… ha…”
Uncle went rigid, then collapsed.
Grandma rushed to him.
“Stay away from it!”
The pig ignored her. It rose slowly, eyes red as blood, tusks bared.
Its voice sounded as though it came from hell.
“In my last life, I was a man.”
“You forced me to become a pig.”
“In this life, I am a pig.”
“And you will taste the consequences.”
It roared and lunged toward Grandma and Uncle.
Just then, a clear ringing sounded in the distance.
A bell in the night wind.
The pig stopped. Its whole body shook.
It turned and fled, crashing through the pigpen, bringing down the storeroom, and disappearing into darkness.
A man entered the yard.
The beggar.
A brass bell hung from his neck, swaying and softly ringing.
Grandma pulled the gold from her husband’s pocket and pushed it into the old man’s hand.
“Please… take it back! Help us bury the remains. Give our home some peace.”
He sighed.
“I’m no immortal. Only a beggar.”
“That pig’s resentment runs deep. Its karmic burden is heavy. Its debt still isn’t settled.”
“It will find another family…”
10
Grandma dropped to her knees, tears streaming.
“Tell us how to end this. Please save my family!”
The old man considered.
“There’s a saying. Lose wealth to avert disaster.”
“In three days, put everything you own outside your door. Someone will come to take it.”
“Don’t look. Don’t ask.”
“When the wealth is gone, the resentment will go with it.”
He turned and left.
The bell faded into the distance.
Grandma sat on the ground, sobbing.
“What terrible karma. Half a lifetime of saving. Now we have to give it all away.”
“Better our money than our lives,” Uncle cried. “Do as he says.”
She nodded, eyes red.
“As long as we live…”
Then she turned to him.
“Your father died violently. He can’t be buried in the ancestral ground.”
“Wrap him in white cloth and burn him. Let his spirit move on.”
Uncle fetched the cloth and wrapped the body.
Blood covered the floor. Its metallic smell filled the room.
Grandma gathered dry wood, lit a torch, and fed the flames as she prayed.
“Old man. Go in peace.”
The fire roared.
In it, Grandpa’s body twitched as though struggling. Crackling filled the night.
I tugged at Grandma’s clothes, shaking.
“He’s moving…”
She held me, her voice choked.
“No. You’re seeing things.”
“Your grandpa is dead.”
The flames didn’t die until morning. A few white fragments of bone remained.
Uncle crushed them with a hammer, put them in a jar, and buried it behind the house.
Grandma sold every valuable we had.
She also dug a wooden chest of gold and silver out of the ground.
The accumulated wealth of generations.
“This was meant for you,” she said through her tears. “Now there’s no other way to save our lives.”
Uncle lowered his head.
“Whatever it costs. As long as it ends.”
Three days later, the sky was gray and the wind bitter.
Grandma put all the money, gold, and jewelry outside the gate.
Then she turned out the lights and waited, hardly breathing.
That night, I heard footsteps and the clatter of chains outside.
I tried to peek.
She pulled me back.
“Don’t look! You mustn’t look!”
At dawn, she opened the gate.
Everything was gone.
Only muddy cattle hoofprints marked the snow.
A little later, the familiar bell sounded at the end of the lane.
The beggar passed again, the bell still hanging from his neck.
Grandma dropped to her knees and bowed repeatedly.
“Blessed immortal! Thank you for saving our lives!”
Mrs. Chen next door happened to pass.
She looked at Grandma and gave a mocking laugh.
“Why are you bowing to a cowbell?”
11
“That’s a cowbell,” Mrs. Chen said curiously. “The Shi family puts a bell on their cow so it won’t get lost.”
“You’ve mistaken it for something else.”
Grandma went still for a few seconds.
Then she answered calmly.
“Cowbell or immortal’s bell, I’ll bow to it.”
“Fools only look. Those with eyes must know how to believe.”
“Not everyone understands the things between heaven and earth.”
“Go.”
Her icy tone made Mrs. Chen uncomfortable. She gave an awkward laugh, muttered, and left.
Grandma knelt again and prayed toward the bell.
“Honored immortal, please don’t be angry.”
“I ask only that the Shi family have peace, with no more resentment or karmic debt.”
From then on, every morning, she went to the gate, lit incense, and bowed three times in the bell’s direction.
And strangely enough…
The Shi family never saw the spotted pig again.
No cries in the night.
No smell of blood on the wind.
No haunting dreams.
Epilogue
Over time, the villagers forgot what had happened.
Only one saying remained.
“Pig’s head meat tastes good. But mind the debt you leave behind.”
Afterward, no one in the village dared cook it for New Year.
And whenever Grandma heard a cowbell ringing in the fields, she clasped her hands and murmured.
“The gold is returned. The debt is settled.”
“May people and pigs alike be at peace.”
The End
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