Nine Li Pavilion

For generations, Panshi Ridge had a folk rhyme that went like this:

Qingming head, sweep graves without dread, Qingming middle, sons and grandsons pay respects to the mountain ancestors, Qingming tail, wandering ghosts have no home to return.

The so-called Qingming head, middle, and tail were calculated based on the lunar calendar.

The solar calendar dates for Qingming Festival were fixed on April 4th and 5th, but the lunar dates varied each year.

If it fell on the first or second day of a lunar month, that was standard Qingming head; on the 28th, 29th, or 30th, that was solidly Qingming tail.

As for Qingming middle, any days in between could be considered that.

Generally, Qingming head meant normal grave sweeping with no big fuss. Qingming middle required as many male descendants as possible to attend. The so-called mountain ancestors were simply the forebears buried on the hills. With many male heirs, the family was prosperous, and a lively grave-sweeping trip posed no major issues.

But Qingming tail—that was eerie. According to the Panshi Ridge folk rhyme, on Qingming tail days, all sorts of unattended wandering ghosts would roam about.

On such days, when sweeping graves, from leaving home all the way to the mountain for worship, you had to burn a stack of yellow paper at every intersection.

The intent was to buy safe passage and avoid entanglement with unclean things.

The elders of Panshi Ridge had passed down this folk rhyme orally for generations, right up to Jiang Yue's father's generation, who strictly followed these rules. Every time they returned to their hometown to sweep graves, they never lacked ritual. Especially in years that fell on Qingming tail, they were meticulous, not the least bit careless.

Though Third Dog wasn't old, he took the traditions handed down from the older generation to heart.

Seeing Jiang Yue lost in thought, Third Dog couldn't help reminding him, "Second Brother? Today's the 29th of the second lunar month—Qingming tail. Could those dirty things have crept into the house?"

Those words made the two brothers standing outside the yard feel a chill.

Fortunately, at that moment, a phone call brought them back to the normal world.

On the other end was their aunt's anxious voice.

Clearly, she had just realized Third Dog was missing. Learning that the little bastard had safely returned to Panshi Ridge, she breathed a sigh of relief, then specifically reminded them of all the ancestral rules for Qingming tail. After repeated instructions, she scolded Third Dog a bunch before hanging up.

"Nice one, Third Dog! What time did you even get up? Did you cover dozens of miles of mountain roads to get home? Are you Earth Traveler Sun or Thunderbolt Zhen?"

"Hehe, I barely slept last night. Second Brother, how about we burn some paper?" Third Dog lived up to his name—after barely sleeping all night, he was still as energetic as a dog.

Jiang Yue had no intention of defying the ancestral rules. At his age, when most people flaunted rebellion and individuality, the fact that he came back from the city to Panshi Ridge for the rites showed he valued these traditions.

Watching the yellow paper by the roadside burn to ash, Jiang Yue's questions only grew.

Though the drizzle never let up, the activity of going up the mountain to sweep the ancestral graves couldn't be compromised.

Jiang Yue carried a hoe on his shoulder, with offerings packed in a bamboo basket—already rare in the city—slung behind him. Third Dog had a machete at his waist and a snake-sack bag full of yellow paper, paper ingots, and paper silver coins in hand.

The brothers burned a stack of yellow paper at each intersection. After walking about an hour, they reached a mountain hollow. In the distance, at the end of the road, a pavilion sat at the foot of the mountain. Viewed from afar, it resembled a vermilion bird spreading its wings, unique in shape.

"Second Brother, want to rest at Nine Mile Pavilion?"

"Only the dead rest at Nine Mile Pavilion. You want to?"

"No."

In Panshi Ridge, whenever an elder passed away, they were always buried around Dajin Mountain.

Nine Mile Pavilion sat at the foot of Dajin Mountain.

Funerals generally had taboos—the coffin couldn't touch the ground along the way.

But Panshi Ridge's customs had a different twist. The pallbearers from Panshi Ridge, no matter how strong, had to rest at Nine Mile Pavilion.

If they insisted on pushing straight up the mountain, something would likely go wrong halfway. Either a pallbearer would stumble and fall, or the coffin lid would flip.

The conventional explanation was that from Panshi Ridge to Nine Mile Pavilion was nearly ten miles, mostly narrow mountain paths, extremely hard to traverse. By the time pallbearers reached here, their stamina was maxed out. Without a breather, they couldn't muster the strength to climb the mountain.

A stranger claim was that Nine Mile Pavilion was the boundary between yin and yang. Once on Dajin Mountain, the yin energy was too heavy. If you didn't replenish your yang energy properly at Nine Mile Pavilion, rushing up the mountain could lead to trouble.

The most sinister tale said that after death, the soul lingered for a time. If you didn't wait at Nine Mile Pavilion, once the body was buried, the soul would have no home, easily turning into a malevolent spirit. Only when both corpse and soul were settled in the grave, free of earthly restlessness, could true peace be found.

Locally, there were no shortage of tales about Nine Mile Pavilion.

Legend had it that centuries ago, a feng shui master sought out dragon veins and pinpointed Dajin Mountain as a prime geomantic site, claiming it had the posture of a reclining dragon—a true living dragon by the standards of dragon-seeking.

The surrounding terrain was excellent, with all five principles—dragon, acupoint, sand, water, and orientation—fully met.

The only flaw was that the south lacked a mountain peak to guard it, failing to form the grand scene of Five Stars Gathering.

Later, a yin-yang master calculated a remedy. He built a pavilion shaped like a vermilion bird on the south side of Dajin Mountain.

As the saying goes, a thousand feet defines the momentum, a hundred feet defines the form.

Using a pavilion to replace a mountain was a small form compensating for a grand momentum—somewhat lacking. But it still created the aura of Five Stars Gathering, matching the auspicious sign of peace under heaven.

Jiang Yue and Third Dog had clearly heard plenty of these tales.

The brothers burned another stack of paper at Nine Mile Pavilion and found the path up the mountain.

The mountain path was rarely walked, barely once a year, and overgrown with vegetation. Without a machete to clear the way, getting up the mountain would have been tough.

Add to that the continuous Qingming rains, which loosened the soil and rocks, making the trek even harder.

It took a full forty minutes before the brothers reached the Jiang family ancestral graves. Several generations of ancestors, up to their grandfather's generation, lay at rest in this area.

Jiang Yue, being strong, handled weeding, cleaning, and repairing the graves, finally adding fresh soil.

San Gou set out the offerings, lit incense, and burned paper money.

After going through the full ritual at seven or eight ancestral graves, the two brothers were exhausted but had managed without incident.

"Brother, isn't it strange? In past years, the rain made it hard to get the paper to burn, but today the rain is like oil—the Yellow Paper catches fire without any trouble."

San Gou couldn't stay idle; the moment he did, he started getting spooked.

Now that San Gou had pointed it out, Jiang Yue noticed that the paper really was burning unusually smoothly today.

Maybe this year's paper was made of different material, with some flammable additive mixed in?

With so many strange things happening, one more didn't make a difference.

Only after the Spirit Money had all turned to ash, with no risk of reigniting, did the brothers pack up their gear and prepare to head down the mountain.

Anyone who's used to mountain paths knows that going down is harder than going up.

From a metaphysical perspective, the momentum of climbing upward is rising—full of spirit and energy, hard for evil to strike. But when descending, the body is tired, the momentum is downward, making it easier to encounter something sinister.

As they walked, San Gou suddenly spoke up from behind.

"Second Brother, did you hear something?"

Jiang Yue listened. Aside from the rustling sound of rain, there was nothing else. He shook his head.

"No! Second Brother, listen closely. There's a child crying."

Deep in the mountains, in a gloomy graveyard, during the Qingming Festival—San Gou claimed to hear a child crying!

Even Jiang Yue, who considered himself fairly bold, broke out in a cold sweat at those words.