Deep courtyard, living widow

Author: Xu Kai Zhen / Country: Mainland China
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-07-01
Features: The half-immortal Liu Yizizi from the back mountain said something mystical, causing the Dongjiazhuang village to make an important decision. He wanted to arrange a marriage for his 15-year-old son, Ming Wang. The young master of the Xiahe Yuan in Caizigou was no longer in good health. A half-month ago, the steward Liugeng brought six Taoist priests from outside the village. They killed three sheep and one pig, built a three-meter-high Taoist platform with white poplar poles, creating a grand scene as if they were preparing for an unprecedented Taoist ceremony, drawing crowds from the entire village to watch the spectacle. However, the five-day ceremony was cut short when the priests fled in panic, even forgetting to collect their silver. Ming Wang, dizzy from the platform, suddenly woke up in the middle of the night, jumped off the platform with a strange movement, collapsed into the courtyard, spitting foam from his mouth, bleeding from his nostrils, and wildly grabbing at the sky with his hands, gradually weakening. Even more strangely, he suddenly stood up with an erect phallus, far surpassing even that of a horse or donkey. The crowd scattered in shock, and the six priests fled in terror. Everyone knew that Ming Wang, the young master of Dongjiazhuang, was the lifeblood of the village. Dongjiazhuang had married three wives in total, each as beautiful as flowers, bright enough to illuminate half the, yet they had only produced this one son. Perhaps it was the heavens playing tricks, as Ming Wang had been sickly since birth, unlike the bloodline of Dongjiazhuang. The village had poured every effort into raising him, only to see him collapse after a serious illness, leaving him with no life force. Dongjiazhuang had originally placed his hopes on the steward Liugeng. Liugeng said that the old Taoist Sun from outside the village had encountered immortals and was skilled in exorcising demons and calming spirits. He had personally witnessed it last year when the second son of the Liu Mazi family was saved by Sun. The Liu Mazi village knew that their second son was also frail and had died several times. Dongjiazhuang had been present at one of the ceremonies and had never seen such a grand scene before, though the priests were not from the Liu family but the Fang family. Now, hearing that the second son of the Liu family had truly been saved by Sun and had even married a wife recently, Dongjiazhuang suddenly grabbed Liugeng’s hand and said, “This is your task. As long as you can save my son’s life, the amount of money spent doesn’t matter.” The steward Liugeng accepted the order and set up the Taoist ceremony, but things turned out this way. That night, chaos erupted in the Xiahe Yuan of Caizigou, and Dongjiazhuang was utterly distraught, nearly losing his composure. If it weren’t for the wet nurse Renshun’s wife, the situation might have been unbearable. After the shock, the wet nurse, Renshun’s wife, held the barely breathing Ming Wang, tears streaming down her face, and hid in the western wing, refusing to come out. The entire village sighed at Dongjiazhuang’s misfortune, and the century-old Xiahe Yuan of Caizigou faced the brink of extinction.
Unknown to them, the half-immortal Liu Yizizi from the back mountainly came into the village. The desperate Dongjiazhuang immediately bowed to welcome him. Liu Yizizi entered the main room, his dark eyes surveying the surroundings with a serious demeanor. He dismissed the steward Liugeng, closed the door, and stared blankly all night. The next morning, Liu Yizizi mysteriously told Dongjiazhuang, “Marriage for luck, the sooner the better.” The news spread, and families from both inside and outside the village rushed to offer their daughters, desperate to break down the doors. They forgot the words they had cursed Dongjiazhuang earlier, forgot the curses they had made while squatting on the Caizi field embankment, and ignored the danger that the newlywed would become a widow the moment she stepped inside. They did everything they could to curry favor with Dongjiazhuang. This time, Dongjiazhuang remained calm and decided to keep the advantage to himself. Liu Yizizi’s hint about the marriage prospects in the back mountain area quickly made him focus on his long-lost older cousin from the back mountain. After careful consideration, the eldest daughter of the back mountain uncle, Dengxin, was presented as a candidate. Similarly, influenced by Liu Yizizi’s words, Dongjiazhuang still hesitated. Liu Yizizi said, “If she comes through, she’ll be a dragon; if not, it’s fate.” After closing his eyes for a moment, he suddenly said, “No matter what, the new wife must come in but never go out. Whether she becomes a cow or a ghost, it’s her fate. Moreover, if she fails the first time, try again; if she fails the second time, try a third.” Liu Yizizi made a decisive gesture, his expression turning cold as he said firmly, “To save this courtyard, you must not fear trouble.” He then quietly handed Dongjiazhuang a talisman, saying, “With this, only the outsider who marries in will suffer. Your Ming Wang will be unharmed. Remember, to save your son, you must not soften your heart or fear having too many substitutes!” The words shocked Dongjiazhuang to the point of collapsing. After all, they were blood relatives. If Liu Yizizi’s words came true, how could he face the three deceased wives?
However, Ming Wang’s uncle was resolute. As the matchmaker came and went to persuade him, he showed unprecedented enthusiasm, skipping over crucial steps like checking the eight characters, sending betrothal gifts, and even the ceremonial flower bridge for the wedding. He only urged his brother-in-law to set a date. Dongjiazhuang sighed, realizing that his uncle was indeed his uncle. Though he had once harbored resentment, at this critical moment, his heart still leaned toward him.
Everything was ready, and the steward Liugeng, along with the cripple Ergua and four sedan bearers, set off at dusk. It was the fifth day of the fourth lunar month in the 16th year of the Republic of China. Liu Yizizi specially instructed that the flower bridge should depart at dusk and arrive at the door before dawn, with neither the sun rising at the start nor setting at the end. The journey suddenly felt heavy. Liugeng initially didn’t want to go. His wife Liutiao was about to give birth, and he feared she might deliver at night. If she had a son, he wouldn’t mind the danger of the journey. But with the uncertainty of her pregnancy, he had no confidence at all. Liutiao had been married for five years and had borne three girls, making Liugeng terrified of childbirth. With no choice but to obey Dongjiazhuang’s firm demand, he set off, his mind preoccupied, not even speaking a word to Ergua. It was as if Dongjiazhuang had forced him to step into the gates of hell. Ergua, however, didn’t care. He had long heard that the Dengxin from the back mountain was as beautiful as a fairy and couldn’t wait to fly there and bring her back himself.
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