The First Part: Miao Village Mysteries" Chapter Three, Section Two

After many years, my mother still talked to me about the scene from that time. She said, "You couldn't write at that time, and when you saw his clenched fist, you just laughed uncontrollably. Later, your grandfather found a piece of charcoal and had you draw on the ground. You did it with precision, drawing a character '人' (person) effortlessly. Your grandfather's high-level friend, the one who later did the fortune-telling for your third uncle, clapped his hands and laughed heartily. When he opened his palm, it was exactly the same '人' character. Your grandfather was baffled at first, but then the high-level friend explained that you were born with a special gift, capable of seeing the spiritual world, and even communicating with ghosts and spirits."

"That high-level friend wanted to take you as his disciple, saying it would be a waste not to harness your exceptional abilities. However, your grandfather refused, stating that you were the eldest grandson of the Shen family and had to continue the family line. Your grandfather asked the high-level friend for an alternative solution. The high-level friend suggested washing your hair with black dog's blood, claiming that it would close your 'spiritual eye.' Your grandfather hesitated but agreed in the end. They slaughtered the largest black dog from your second uncle's house and used its blood to wash your hair. After that, there were no more reports of you seeing strange things."

As for the "Auntie" under the bed, I genuinely had no memory of it. However, strange things did happen when I was living with my third uncle.

At that time, I was in junior high school and living with my third uncle in the military compound. Ever since I moved into his house, I had seen a small wooden box with a locked lid. I asked my third uncle multiple times about its contents, but he never revealed it. Eventually, I stopped asking, and the idea of prying the box open crossed my mind, but seeing the stern look in my third uncle's eyes, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was scared of him, just like everyone else in the family.

During my junior high school years, the coursework was much simpler than it is now, and combined with my restless nature, I often skipped school for days, either to swim in the ponds on the outskirts of the city or to pick mulberries in the mountains. My third uncle didn't spare the rod when it came to disciplining me (at that time, he treated me as his own son).

One day, I had made plans with friends to go swimming in a pond. I arrived there early, and seeing that no one was around, I undressed and jumped into the water for a quick swim. As my friends began to arrive, I swam toward the shore. When I was just about to touch the bottom, I suddenly felt a hand gripping my ankle tightly, pulling me toward the center of the pond. I struggled with all my might but couldn't free myself.

Seeing me bobbing up and down in the water, my friends on the shore initially thought I was having a muscle cramp. Several of them jumped into the water to rescue me, but they felt like they were engaged in a tug of war with some invisible force that was trying to pull me away from them.

After they pulled me out of the water, they noticed that both of my ankles bore two distinct and painful hand-shaped bruises. Their faces turned pale, and they couldn't wait to leave the area, running back to town in a hurry.

Perhaps due to the shock or fear, I briefly regained my "spiritual eye" that night. After the sun had set, I saw a pale, bloated "person" standing next to me. He seemed to realize that I could see him. At first, he looked surprised, but then his face lit up as if he had found a treasure. He even smiled broadly, which terrified me.

What happened next was even more horrifying. This "person" leaned his whole body onto mine, attempting to enter my body. I could feel something entering me, and at the same time, I felt like I was being pushed out of my own body.

Terrified, I screamed loudly, and my third uncle, who was cooking in the kitchen, rushed over. I told him about the incident in a panicked voice. My third uncle was ashen-faced, knowing about my experiences when I was younger. Suddenly, as if he had remembered something, he ran to the cabinet and pulled out the small wooden box. He didn't bother searching for the key, just slammed it onto the floor, breaking it into pieces. Out rolled a shiny, short sword.

My third uncle grabbed the sword, approached me, and compared its size to me, as if he were about to stab someone. He yelled at the invisible presence, "Get lost! Don't trouble my son, or I'll kill you!" The "person" seemed to tremble and, without hesitation, separated from my body and vanished into thin air.

That night, my third uncle held the sword and stood guard beside me. The next day, he somehow managed to get a black dog and slaughtered it in the yard. I endured another dog-blood bath (my third uncle didn't know that washing my hair would have sufficed), as the whole basin of black dog's blood was poured over me.

Since that incident, I've always been curious about that short sword. I sharpened it several times, trying to persuade my third uncle to show it to me again. However, all he would say was, "I'll let you see it when your hair turns white."

My hair hasn't turned white, but I've aged a few years. In the blink of an eye, I graduated from high school and followed my third uncle's plan to join the military. Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, I couldn't pass the entrance exams.

Perhaps no one from the Shen family was meant to attend military school. After my third uncle and our family's grandfather and my biological father discussed the situation, they had my future planned out: "You will join the army for me!"

To be continued in the next chapter!