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Shen Yuan hates many things. Stupid characters in the cartoon shows he watches and the books he reads, his Er-ge’s pranks, poorly designed games where one item would lock him out of the ending, and the thing that rankles him the most: summer vacation. A summer vacation means a two-month stay in his grandparents' village. With all the boredom, heat, bugs and racket it entails. The room he has to share not only with his siblings but with a few of his noisy cousins too. And above them all, Shen Jiu. Terrible, awful Shen Jiu who always lives with their grandmother. Poor thing, born out of wedlock and abandoned, all because of lust! Shen Yuan remembers overhearing one of his aunts say.
Poor thing? Please! He can’t even bring his favourite books with him since they will either be stolen or destroyed –petty acts instigated by that fiend when he has a whole-ass library at his disposal. Instead, he settles for two of his least favourite. Long but endlessly boring. Shen Yuan won’t mourn their destruction.
More than that, he doesn’t appreciate the stories his youngest uncle loves to tell each night. Not that Shen Yuan believes them or feels fear or anything stupid like that! He’s a soon-to-be fourth grader, too old to tremble in his boots at childish tales –not to say that he ever did. Those lies and stupid attempts to scare them are lame, is all.
“Look at that, he has been glowering for four hours now. I won the bet!” Shen Chi, sitting on his right, says.
“For four hours straight? Are you trying to swindle me?” Shen Jun says, voice hoarse from a ‘nap’ he took earlier. During it, he snored and mumbled about his university exams.
“I’ve been watching him closely. Not a single smile in sight! My winnings. Hand them over.”
Shen Jun huffs a laugh; plastic bags sail over Shen Yuan’s bowed head, to the whoops of Shen Chi and the restless grumblings of Tang-er, sleeping on his shoulder. Then a hand lands on his head, ruffling his hair.
“Aiyah, A-Yuan, relax. You don’t want your face to resemble Uncle Bai.”
“Or your father.” Mother watches them from the front seat. A fond smile softens her sharp eyes. Seeing it, the squeezing sensation in Shen Yuan's chest eases, and his hard grip on the book loosens.
“But you said I’m handsome when I scowl,” Father retorts.
“You are.” Mother leans towards him, as far as the seatbelt allows. “And my A-Yuan looks just like you, my dear.”
Father laughs, and he too leans towards her. Their shoulders don’t touch. But their hands intertwine.
“So gross,” Shen Chi mutters in English, munching chips and stinking up the car. He doesn’t sound grossed out at all.
“I plead with my king and queen to bar Chi-er from watching Western shows.” Shen Jun chucks another plastic bag, aiming for Shen Chi's head. It hits the mark with a thud. Shen Chi groans. “He has been copying them for a while now.”
“Don’t worry about him. I offered his services since your grandma can’t tend her favourite horse while she recovers.”
“Dad!”
It is Shen Yuan’s turn to snort haughtily. He snaps the book shut, gently and without the force he wants –Tang-er is still asleep– and says, “I’m sure you’ll have a fun time, ge.”
“Shut it, you.”
*
After a painful day and a half on the road, with many bathroom stops and a night's sleep at a motel, they arrive in the village. Shen Yuan admires the sweeping trees and faraway mountains eclipsed by green as the car crosses a rocky, unpaved road. That admiration will never be spoken aloud, of course. Familiar buildings and walls flash past the windows, and finally, his father parks in front of a bleached orange house. Four gleaming cars are already there; the sight makes Shen Yuan despair.
No way they all race here the moment the vacation starts! Don’t they have any other business to attend to? Summer schools, perhaps? He doesn’t mind the adults that much. They always flock around each other and live in their own bubble, but the children irk him!
“Freedom at last,” Shen Chi singsongs and opens the door to a trickle of screeches and laughter. “What a delight to hear the kiddos on this fine day. Am I right, didi?”
Shen Yuan ignores him and scoots over Tang-er to exit from Shen Jun’s side, even though his was closer. Then he helps her down; she flashes him a gap-tooth smile. “Thank you, Yuan-ge!”
In this whole world, only she’s tolerable. Shen Yuan pats her head, careful not to mess up her hair. She’ll bite him if he dares after their mother styled it exquisitely at the last stop. Tang-er looks cute with her two pigtails and white bows. He smiles at her.
“Uncle Shen, Aunt Lu.”
The smile vanishes. That voice, that polite tone hiding obscenities! Sure enough, Shen Jiu stands near Father, slinking out of the shadows like the demon he is and looking the picture of innocence. “Grandma couldn’t greet you, she’s still on bed rest. Do you need any help with unloading?” Shen Jiu says. His searching gaze pauses on Shen Yuan, and the courteous curve of his lips takes on the edge of a smirk.
“Xiao-jiu, hello dear.” Mother beams and leans down to hug him, while Father inclines his head.
“Thank you. My sons will handle it, there’s no need to trouble yourself. . Is your grandmother doing better?”
“She is. The doctor says she will be able to walk soon.”
“That’s good to hear. That’s good. You did well taking care of her.” Father's hand rests on Shen Jiu’s head for brief moments before he heads to the door. His three uncles are already waiting there with grins. Their children peek from the gaps. Mother holds a shy Tang-er’s hand and follows. She’ll strip away that shyness in no time. In fact, the other brats will fall over each other to serve her highness.
“Is that my favourite cousin!” Shen Chi exclaims, hauling two suitcases. “How I missed your mug.” On his trail Shen Jun walks, carrying his own suitcase and laptop bag.
Other than a scowl, Shen Jiu pays him no mind. He crosses his arms and surveys them like a king surveying his peasants. That offer of help has been only that, an offer. What an adult pleaser! Shen Yuan shrugs on his tote bag and hurries inside.
“God, you two are so alike it unnerves me… Wait wait, ge! A-yuan! You guys don’t expect me to carry everything by myself!"
“Treat it as an exercise. Muscle building and all that,” Shen Jun says, already removing his shoes with his toes at the door threshold and shooing away grubby hands.
“Cruel, so cruel! And you call yourselves my brothers! Crawling out of the same womb! Alas, enemies you are. Oh, my favourite cousin, will you- and here he goes strutting off. What a family.” Shen Chi continues lamenting. All ignore the theatrics.
On a normal day, the house might be considered spacious, but it is rather crowded and stuffy with all the furniture and cabinets, vases and plants, and the milling people. Hands and greetings fall on him. He nods and smiles and weaves his way to his grandmother’s room at the end of a short hallway past the clamorous kitchen, the women gossiping, no doubt. The terrors are most likely told to stay out of this corridor. The rest of the way is blissfully free of collisions.
Few people occupy the room. Father sits beside the queen bed, hands clasping grandmother’s, talking softly, pleading for her and Shen Jiu to move with him, while mother stands close. Under the window, a cousin he doesn’t know well reclines in a rocking chair doing embroidery. A blanket pools across her lap. Tang-er isn’t here, but her laughter resounds nearby. He’ll have to check on her soon.
“I told you I’m fine! Stop nagging. Goodness, you and your siblings!” Grandma says. She has aged remarkably since last year. Her braided hair is wreathed in white, no spots of black left, while wrinkles crease every inch of her face. “Xiao-jiu is with me, isn’t he?”
“But Mother, what if something else happens?” Father presses. “How can Shen Jiu help you alone? He is still too young. And without Father here… If you don’t want to move in with me, then take your pick from my brothers and sisters. Or let us get you some servants, please.”
“I said stop it. I just slipped, nothing disastrous happened. I can take care of myself just fine without anyone annoying me .”
“All right, all right. But what about Shen Jiu? Don’t you want him to study in the city?”
“Shen Yi! No one will take him from me, you hear? Not until I rot beneath the ground!” Grandmother's face turns red, and she drops Father's hands. This conversation has been a recurring one since his grandfather passed away last year. Father insists that she move. He calls her a lot and sighs once she inevitably hangs up on him. She refuses to abandon this house, the one she and her late husband built and raised their children in. Father worries, though, and Shen Yuan understands, but even so, he’s glad she declines. Just imagining living with Shen Jiu all year makes him gag!
Before he can step in to offer a distraction, Shen Jiu passes him, a platter of food in his hands.
“Xiao-Jiu.” Grandmother's features melt, and then she notices him loitering by the door. “And is that my a-yuan! Come here, let me see you.”
Her fussing and cooing are embarrassing, but he weathers it with grace, answering her many questions and babbling about his studies and friends. His brothers join him after a while, and grandmother’s love and attention fall on them. Shen Yuan seizes the opportunity to slip out of the room.
While fleeing, he realises that Shen Jiu isn’t there. When did he leave? Well, that’s for the better. The less he sees him, the happier he’ll be.
*
The rest of their stay passes in a clamorous whirl of chatter and rowdiness. The women cook breakfast. His cousins and Shen Jun --mostly sipping tea-- turn the kitchen upside down making lunch, while the men are entrusted with dinners. Shen Yuan, by virtue of being young, is exempt from this rotating ‘bonding activity’ as they call it. He plays with the pestering kids instead, running Tang-er’s kingdom and issuing rules and introducing them to new games. He even reads them nightly stories, away from the hustle of the elders and their tasteless ones.
These days should be normal, and he’s glad. But he can’t help but be suspicious of their normalcy. Shen Jiu is quiet, not his usual bossy and overbearing self. He doesn’t play with them, nor does he glower in the kitchen, observing the food and how much they use. Shen Yuan’s books are left untouched by his nimble hands. In fact, Shen Yuan only sees him at meals, when he delivers Grandma’s own meals and when it’s bedtime. Shen Chi, however, complains about how Shen Jiu won’t allow him to sleep in, rousing him each morning to help with the stable.
“There’s a stable hand! And how can a single horse shit this much?! Why am I subjected to this misery!” he cries at lunch, face reddened and freckled, fresh out of a bath after a morning rolling in shit. Father shakes his head, smiling.
“Why do you look tired? Are you not sleeping well?” Shen Jun peers at Shen Yuan with a frown.
“How could I when there’s a lunatic chopping wood at midnight!”
Someone yelps. A bowl of soup spills onto one of his aunts, and Shen Jiu apologises, a flush on his face.
“Eh? I never heard anything of the sort, and I always stay up late,” Shen Chi says, a slight pout creasing his lips.
“Staying up late? When you have to wake up early? Are you and that–”
“Hush!”
Shen Yuan tunes them out, though he’s perplexed. He’d complained about the noise before, but everyone said the same thing. They never heard anything. A prank was his first thought, but he dismissed it. No one would go to those lengths to target him specifically. And others should hear the noise if that was the case. He’s a light sleeper, so perhaps that’s why he’s the only one affected.
That doesn’t explain how Shen Chi and other night owls haven’t heard it.
Never mind, it doesn't matter. They’ll return home this week after all. Only his youngest, childless uncle and his wife remains. The place is peaceful now, more so with Shen Jiu's sudden change. He has matured. One aunt had nodded in approval. After Father’s death, there ought to be a man in this house.
That aunt is wrong. A hand shakes him awake that night, urgent. The blurry face of Shen Jiu stares at him. Partially lit by a faint light seeping from the curtains. Either the moon or a lamp.
“What.” Shen Yuan grunts, eyes crusty, then he hears it. The thud of an axe splitting wood, ceaselessly. It’s closer than last night. Like it’s happening just outside the room. He props himself on an elbow and looks at the few people snoring away.. Shen Jun sleeps under the window, unstirred.
“You hear that, right?” Shen Jiu whispers. “I hear it too.”
“So what if I do?” Shen Yuan frowns, whispering back. “Let me sleep.”
“It’s a ghost. Wanna go see?”
A ghost? What kind of stupidity is that! And go and see? “Go by yourself if you believe that nonsense.”
“Are you scared?” Shen Jiu’s smirk is infuriating; everything about him is. Shen Yuan isn’t a violent person. He never fights when words will do. Yet Shen Jiu's existence sparks in him the urge to punch and strangle. Er-ge calls it a healthy rivalry between boys; Shen Yuan calls bullshit.
Shen Yuan looks at him coolly. “You bet. Don’t project your fear onto me.”
“Project my fear onto you? Ha! Easy there, nerd.”
“If you are impressed by that, then maybe you should read what you steal.”
“Ha. Quit dragging your feet. Are you really that scared? Fine, I’ll go alone.” Shen Jiu rises from his crouch, throwing one last line over his shoulder: “Can’t fathom what your sister saw in you. Coward.”
Shen Yuan really, really wishes to tackle him to the ground. If only his grandma didn't cherish him so much! Gritting his teeth, he kicks the blanket away. “How can you fathom something you don’t have? Loser.”
No response comes. Shen Yuan expects to be tackled or bitten, but Shen Jiu does nothing, standing like a statue, his back to him. A twinge of guilt hits him, and he brushes it aside. Why should he feel guilt? He isn’t wrong.
Shen Yuan skitters across the room and slowly steps onto the edge of Shen Jun’s bed to peer outside. Nothing is there but a bare backyard. Yet the racket indicates that someone should be.
“See?” Shen Jiu's voice is close; it startles him. “Told you, a ghost.”
“Ghosts aren’t real.” The rest of Shen Yuan’s words peter out. If he makes fun of him, then Shen Jiu will simply declare him a coward. Which isn’t true. Real or not, Shen Yuan wants to know who the woodcutter is anyway so he can tattle on them. To whom, he doesn’t know yet. “Just one look.”
Shen Jiu smiles. “Sure. Let’s go.”
It occurs to him, a few minutes later, with Shen Jiu's flashlight shining on the dirt road ahead, that he doesn’t know where they’re heading. A lapse in judgment he blames on his rude awakening. It's also strange how they don’t stumble upon the woodcutter even though the sound is really close, echoing around them in the night. Shen Jiu, surprisingly, hasn’t taken the lead. Only offering light a few paces behind.
A wish springs free, louder than the rest, to abandon this foolish adventure and return home, to the safety of the bed and closeness of his brother. He knows this is stupid. He knows he should stop. But he needs to prove Shen Jiu wrong. Shen Yuan isn’t scared. Nor are there any ghosts.
“I’ll see him and return home immediately,” he whispers, “with or without you.”
“Yes yes, go left.” Shen Jiu’s flashlight shines onto a trail off the path, hidden by droopy boughs and leaves. “I think the sound is coming from there.”
“No way. Are you crazy? You want us to be murdered? You said the sound is coming from behind the house, not from there!”
“And we circled the house and found nothing. It’s near the house anyway, nothing will happen. Just a look, remember?”
“How can you be so certain? In fact, why didn’t you take a look at your ghost before? Why now?”
Shen Jiu doesn't answer, and Shen Yuan hums in understanding. “Ah, you were scared. Still are.”
Only a breathless laugh sounds. Shen Yuan's shoulders straighten from their slight slump. So he is scared! Exactly as he thought earlier. That makes sense. Why else would Shen Jiu wake him and invent the ghost story? The woodcutter probably annoys him, but terrifies him just as much.
“Fine, let’s go left.” Shen Yuan sniffs.
Trekking the low slopes leads them to a small clearing. The number of lamps drops the more they walk, until only the flashlight illuminates their path. Even the moon overhead has its light muffled behind thin clouds. Their quarry swings an axe right before their eyes. Pieces of wood scatter around a huge stump. No sooner does he gaze at the black silhouette, squinting, trying to see the face, than it stops moving mid swing. Everything stills too. The slight breeze, the whoosh of leaves, the buzzing of cicadas, his body, his throat in the middle of swallowing, his eyeblinks.
It is utterly silent.
Slowly, oh so slowly, blankness turns and gazes at him. At once, he hears. He hears everything. Mutters and laughter, howls and screeches of pain. And he sees. He sees…
“Let’s go!” Shen Jiu says, grasping his arm. “Follow me!”
Shen Yuan runs, blindly, eyes wide open. Around him the world ripples, faces and hands protrude from trees and the ground alike, all staring. Long tongues wag, and fingers reach out, grasping his clothes, pulling. He closes his eyes. Oh, he must be dreaming.
The soft ground gives way to hardness, and he opens his eyes expecting home, or to find the ceiling staring down at him, sunrays warming his face. Charred rubble he recognises greets him instead. The Qiu manor, which burnt down a year ago, taking Grandfather, who rushed to help put the fire out, with it.
“Why are we here?!” Shen Yuan shouts. His chest squeezes into painful knots.
“Don’t worry. All will be well soon.” Shen Jiu drags him forward into one of the blackened rooms. Then he drops his hand, and finally, after moments of looking at a corner, he glances at him. The flashlight flickers. “Shen Yuan. Thank you.”
“Fuck off!” Shen Yuan retreats, then runs out.
Nothing intercepts him. Everything is normal, and the clinking of chains is only the wind! His breaths weigh like lead when he arrives at the courtyard. In front of him, Shen Chi grins at his phone, a lit cigarette clenched between his teeth. He startles at the noise, then rushes to him.
“Whoa, buddy! What are you doing out there-- what’s wrong? Has something happened?”
“Nothing. Nothing happened,” Shen Yuan bites out, but he scoots closer to him.
“He’s right,” Shen Jiu says while playing with his flashlight. “Nothing happened. We were just following a ghost trail.”
“Oh! Yeah, I guess you’re at that age now, huh. But don’t do it again without inviting me or any other adult with you, okay?” Shen Chi grins and ruffles their hair.
Shen Yuan latches on to the easy banter.“You’re not an adult.”
“Hey!”
“Sure, Chi-ge,” Shen Jiu says.
“Or maybe you should actually. Call me ge again?”
Shen Yuan forces his body to cooperate and moves inside the house, his fists clenched all the while. He’ll never talk to that bastard ever again.
*
Grandmother walks without limping the next day. She is delighted. Shen Jiu hovers close to her, no longer leaving her side.
The two never talked again. Not about that absurd night, nor about anything else.
*
He wakes up disgruntled the first night back home. No sunlight seeps from the closed window; only the corridor's orange light wafts through a gap in the door.
It takes him a while, lashes fluttering as he listens to the air conditioner's faint exhales, to figure out what awoke him. Someone else’s breaths right behind him, a frigid feathery tingle that travels from his nape to the length of his spine. His body locks up. It might be Shen Chi trying to scare him. Or Shen Tang fleeing from a nightmare into his quilt.
Your brother isn’t home, remember? Sleeping at a friend's home. His brain wastes no beat in confuting. And your sister would have roused you to ply her with reassurances, not with this.
Shapes form in the dark, swirling and dissipating and reforming. A giggle, chains rattle. Shen Yuan closes his eyes and feigns sleep.
A long, long exhale, then the bed squeaks an intermittent tone, quietening and resuming. Waiting. When the bed dips, the chill in the air tapers off, but the shivers don’t stop tapping over his skin. Was that a dream? The thought hasn’t formed fully when what feels like hundreds of snowflakes land on his cheek, blow over his nose, then settle on his eyes. Cold, so cold and prickling.
“Look at me.” A whisper close to his face, tousling his sticky bangs. “I know you can hear me. Open your eyes.”
Shen Yuan holds himself still.
“Don’t ignore me. Open them.”
Shen Yuan shrieks when a hand lands on his shoulder.
“Oh dear,” Mother says, checking his forehead. “Did you have a nightmare, my child? Come, give me a hug.”
It doesn’t occur to him not to. Shen Yuan lunges at her, body trembling all over.
She is warm. “Here, here. Shh, it was only a nightmare. Do you want to stay home today?”
“No. I’m fine, sorry, ma.”
“None of that.” The hug lasts until Father peeks into the room, searching for her.
A dream. Yes, it is! It has always been one.
His imagination runs wild, and all of it is the fault of Shen Jiu. That man with the axe is only a lunatic, and the rest are tricks of his brain. While the quivering voice that begs him to look is merely a hallucination.
Shen Yuan repeats that to himself and ignores the crawling phantasms that dog him day and night. He ignores how he curls in on himself under the covers at night, how he stops seeking his reflection, how he flinches when someone walks behind him, when an arm is slung over his shoulders, how he hides the bruises and scratches covering his body, how he can’t close his eyes when he showers even as shampoo burns them, how he can’t lock the door.
How he always, always hears it.
“Stop ignoring me.” Every night it says, following him into every room. “Look at me. Look at me!”
He doesn’t look. Look at what? Empty air? There’s nothing for him to see.
And then it stops. like a long, harrowing dream finally ending. No more golden chains glinting out of the corner of his eye, or the whispers and giggles and the eyes tracking his every waking moment. No more chill lashes his body, leaving behind purple and green. Shen Yuan's vigilance recedes.
Until Shen Tang screams one day. Choking on her words while tears run down her deathly pale cheeks.
“I’m scared,” she whines after she calms down enough to speak, clutching their mother's clothes. “I saw something crawling in my room.”
“A spider?” Shen Chi sniggers. “All this cacophony for a little spider? Man, you scared us.”
“Not a spider!” she sobs. “It was too fast and too big!”
Shen Yuan hides a trembling fist inside his pocket and smiles reassuringly. “Don’t worry. I’ll sleep in your room today, okay?”
Shen Chi raises a hand. “Me too, me too. I’ll catch that spider and teach it a lesson. We could have dragged Mister Dormitory with us, but alas.”
“How about you all sleep in our room tonight?” Mother kisses Shen Tang’s forehead.
“Uh. Well! I suppose that solves the issue! No need for me to play guard then.” Shen Chi hurries out of the living room.
“That child… I wonder who he talks to each night.” Mother pouts.
*
When Shen Jun returns for winter break, he breaks an arm.
“It's weird,” he tells Shen Chi and Shen Yuan. “I could swear that someone pushed me down the stairs. But when I turned to look, no one was there.”
*
Not a month later, the kitchen’s ceiling collapses while his mother bakes him a birthday cake. She kneels on the floor, holding her bleeding head.
The fridge and counters take the brunt of the rubble. Shen Yuan sees their twisting forms and shakes.
*
Father’s face grows more haggard as another deal falls apart. He smiles wanly and reassures them that it’s fine. Even Mother starts working overtime, a frown toppling her smile.
*
How can he feign blindness anymore when Father’s phone rings one night? Unease clouds Shen Yuan as Father answers, and he knows, he knows deep inside, that this is it. The final straw.
Father springs up, his chair falling onto the ground. That trembling “A-chi, A-chi!” on his lips will haunt Shen Yuan his whole life.
Shen Chi falls into a week-long coma after a car accident; he loses his best friend.
Guilt and terror eat him as Shen Chi wastes away. Face gaunt and gaze adrift. He was the one who stole and drove one of their father’s cars.
“I was trying to avoid hitting someone,” he says when he regains awareness. “They appeared out of nowhere… I didn't… I don’t know…!”
The road cameras only show the car drifting and crashing into a pole. Shen Jun tells Father that no one was in front of it. The boys were intoxicated, however.
But Shen Yuan knows that Shen Chi isn’t lying. He knows.
Enough. He has had enough. This bullshit should stop. He lies on his bed, back from the hospital. Sweating and heaving, unable to stomach food. Bloodied images flash across his closed eyelids. Of Shen Jun breaking his neck, of Shen Chi beneath a white sheet, of Mother’s blood flowing, bones bent.
He opens his eyes and stares at the stars and car stickers on the ceiling. Shapes wiggle. Disfigured faces flicker in and out of existence with each blink.
“What do you want from me?” Shen Yuan asks, hands clenched and shaking. Each one of his heartbeats stabs him, though a raging anger eclipses all his feelings. How dare it? How dare that thing target his family and not him? “Stop harming my family! Tell me what you want from me and stop.”
White curtains flutter. And at once, he feels seen. Goosebumps rise and itchiness scald his body. His instincts tell him to run, close his eyes, don’t look back at what looks at you. But he can’t listen, not this time.
Shen Yuan looks, gaze darting across the length of his room from where he lies. They are everywhere, watching him as he watches them. None approach him.
A laugh gusts over his ear. He jumps upright, worries the sheets between his fingers, swallows, and against his inherent nature, whirls to it with a glare. A river of pitch-black hair and a gaping lipless mouth spanning from forehead to chin with too many teeth. Golden rings stud bare flesh where eyes should be. Chains dangle from numerous clawed arms. Their dazzle is that of a harsh sun.
“Here you are,” it laughs. The meat in its exposed throat vibrates, and eyes upon eyes spring open from within its mouth walls, shining with saliva. “Finally you gaze upon me, Shizun.”