Under my relentless questioning, the security guard finally stammered out some of the ghost stories from around here.
In truth, he didn't know all that much about the ghost stories himself.
He'd seen ghosts two or three times in his life, from childhood to adulthood, and heard countless ghost stories. Every so often, someone would tell him about seeing a ghost or pass along some story they'd heard from someone else.
There were the stories parents told to scare their children, like "when it gets dark, monsters come out and eat kids"; the ghosts of teachers and students said to haunt schools; ghosts of people who'd died at various workplaces; and the widely circulated ghost stories around Huixiang. Even at the hospital where he worked now, it seemed you could run into a ghost every few steps.
Under my questioning, the only story he could tell was the one he'd mentioned earlier, about an outsider who'd come here to catch ghosts and ended up getting the worst of it.
"...This was probably before the founding of the country. People dressed as Taoist priests or monks and carried banners everywhere. The old folks said a Taoist priest carrying a banner once passed through here. He had a bell in his hand, and you could hear it from far away. When the ghosts heard it, they'd run off at once. He stayed here for half a month, wandering around and catching a few ghosts. After asking around about some things, he shook his bell and went to Crooked-Neck Village. It's east of here, a small village. There aren't many people left now. The young folks have all moved to the city or gone elsewhere to work. I think only two households are still there. It's better now, but back then, everyone born