The ghost will live in the umbrella, I don't know when this saying started, but the custom of making Qingming umbrella on Qingming Festival has been passed down for a long time in northwest Zhejiang. In short, since childhood, adults have taught me that there are several things that should not be picked up outside and brought back home, and umbrellas are one of them.

  This is a black umbrella, canvas, with some damage on the surface. The umbrella bone at that time was much heavier than it is now, but this umbrella was the heaviest one I've ever held in my life. Knowing that there's a ghost in the umbrella in my hand, no one would be calm, right? The snow in the yard was still falling, everywhere was shining white, adding more sadness to this sad day. I walked on the snowy ground, looking back at Pangzi who was still standing there, a frozen corpse still maintaining its expression when it was alive.

  Thinking of the fragrance of incense a few days ago, this big uncle was still smiling and laughing, perhaps he would never have thought that one day he would follow in his father's footsteps.

  I saw that Fatso's movements were a bit rough, and tonight's strange events had already been enough, so I reminded him: "Be careful, don't mess things up again."

  Zha Wenbin said in a low voice, "It's over, my soul is no longer here." His voice was very soft, as if he was talking to himself. I don't know why his emotions became so downcast, but this time when he came back, what I saw more of was the evasive signal flashing in his eyes, as if searching for something and escaping from something at the same time. He spoke less than before.

  Fatso used his arm to lift the corpse, I saw that he was also very heavy. They say that when people die, they become heavier. On this snowy night, Fatso spoke with white smoke bursting out of his throat: "Alright, let's put it in the coffin?"

  "Put it in and find some firewood to burn it."

  I said: "Is this suitable? Our ancestors have been buried in this land for generations."

  "Burn it all and then bury it. If we pass tonight, we'll have to enter the earth tomorrow, which will be too late, unless you call the person back to continue carrying."

  I know, it's impossible to bring back those who have been scared away, no matter how much tobacco and wine are offered. When people reach the end of their rope, they understand that nothing is more important than their own lives; in the end, no one will make a deal where they risk their life for something as trivial as drink.

  In the countryside, every household had a earth stove and firewood was stored everywhere. The good dry firewood was bundled up from the thatched house and piled high on a platform made of snow. The coffin was placed on top of the firewood pile, and Cha Wenbin went back inside to fetch some kerosene to sprinkle over it. With one strike of a match, a huge flame erupted, and the crackling sound seemed like his final farewell to this land.

  I never expected that after my death, it would be such a scene, no one to send me off, no one to mourn, not even anyone to burn paper money. In life, he was arrogant and domineering, but in death, he ended up without even a whole body, it's really true that sometimes people should accumulate some good karma for themselves.

  The big fire burned for a whole hour, and the black smoke and scattered ashes had already become indistinguishable from the road to the underworld. Finally, they dug out a few recognizable bones and let Fatso use a hoe to smash them one by one, then found a broom and dustpan in their courtyard to gather up the remaining residue. I went inside and asked my aunt for an earthenware jar, the kind used in rural areas to pickle vegetables, and poured all the bones into it.

  Zha Wenbin went outside to dig some thin mud, then used the leaves of the zong bamboo to cover the mouth of the jar, and then sealed it again with a mixture of thin mud and rice husks. With that, our task was considered complete.

  I looked at the time, one minute to twelve.

  "Are you going up the mountain too?" I asked.

  Zha Wenbin looked up at the pitch-black sky and said, "No need to see me off, it's too late. Just bury me in their family vegetable garden, there's a pine tree there."

  Before the final burial, Cha Wenbin pasted another talisman on the jar. I asked him what it meant, and he said it was probably to remind future generations that if they dug up this jar, don't break it, as it contains ashes.

  Looking at the sauerkraut jar, I didn't laugh. Originally, I had a strong contempt for this person, but when Fatso threw it into the pit like trash, I suddenly felt that he was really pathetic. A lifetime is just a fleeting moment, and time and past are nothing but floating clouds and white horses passing swiftly by.

  On the way back, the two of us trudged through the wind and snow in silence, except for Fatso who kept chattering nonstop, but I was too lazy to bother with him.

  "Wen Bin!" he suddenly shouted at him.

  "Huh?"

  "Let's go to America."

  "Why?" he asked.

  I stopped in my tracks and turned around to look at him, looking into his eyes that were filled with an unspeakable sorrow. I thought of that person, the innocent romantic and beautiful spirit.

  "Go find her."

  Cha Wenbin didn't answer, he just paused for a moment and smiled slightly at the corner of his mouth, then he walked forward alone.

  Watching him walk away, Fatso patted me and asked: "What's he going to the US for? Does he speak English?"

  "I don't understand." I patted the fatty's shoulder and said, "We both don't understand Cantonese but we're getting along just fine, who knows maybe those broken Japanese in America and Taiwan are even stronger."

  The fat man looked very happy, laughing loudly: "Haha, good kid, our junk business is going global! In the future, I want to be the biggest junk king in the world! Teach us that American imperialism is just a paper tiger. Let us, who were born under the red flag and grew up in new China, revolutionary hot-blooded men, cross the Pacific Ocean and sweep away their junk! I will treat their junk like autumn wind sweeping fallen leaves, mercilessly, haha!"

  That era going to the United States was a very distant thing, different education, different beliefs, different outlooks on life and values, but at that time going to the other side of the ocean were all elites, the real backbone of society. We who had just experienced the Cultural Revolution were still arguing over various grain tickets and meat tickets, and a black-and-white TV set had to be entrusted with relationships, while they had already entered the computer era. Fortunately, the two countries had just repaired their relations, and the United States also launched a wave of enthusiasm for studying the East, especially China's ancient culture, which was mentioned in the letter sent by Yuan Xiaobai.

  Things are far from being as simple as I imagined, at least for Cha Wenbin.

  I heard that my uncle's funeral wasn't so smooth either. Their home is over a hundred kilometers away from our Hong Village, belonging to another county's jurisdiction. The next day, I heard my old man say that it was no less lively than here.

  At dinner time, we talked about this topic and asked my dad: "What's up with that uncle?"

  "They were the ones who came out this morning for the funeral, and it was said that they made a temporary decision to come over after hearing about what happened on your side. It's said that not even one day should be spent at home anymore. A few relatives went over there and heard that the person had disappeared, saying he died and was covered up in bed, originally planning to wait until after the seventh day to hold a funeral, but hadn't moved him yet. When they went back to take a look, there was no one on the bed, the corpse was gone."

  Fatso took a sip of wine and said: "Fake corpse?"

  "Who knew, in the end it was found, but it's quite mysterious. Their family is a big household, with an ancestral hall, and during the Ming and Qing dynasties, they produced three generations of top scholars. Xiao Yi, you should still remember, when you were 12 years old, I took you there."

  My dad mentioned it and I remembered, their village was called Zhuangyuan Village. My uncle-in-law's surname is Zhou, and half of the villagers have this surname. I remember that their village was particularly unique, with all the buildings in the Huizhou style, white walls and black tiles, every household had a horse-head wall, two-story structure, brick and wood. My uncle-in-law's family used to be a big household, with seven or eight rooms, but after liberation, they were confiscated and allocated four rooms back to them. The most impressive thing about that place was the large mansion, which looked like a temple, it was the Zhou Family Ancestral Hall.

  This week, the ancestral hall is not allowed for children to enter and play. The year I went was when my cousin married over, and as a female relative, I followed along with them. At that time, my uncle was still there, and our family relationships were still harmonious. My siblings and I wandered around their village, and while wandering, we stumbled upon the ancestral hall. The door was open. Children always like to go and find some strange things, and I'm no exception. I saw a pair of stone lions at the entrance, so I peeked inside through the gap in the door. In the center was an incense burner, with a well nearby, and all around were houses.

  Those houses all didn't have doors, inside hung yellow and red cloth strips of various kinds, we several kids then slipped in one after another, later I only remembered until the sky was very dark when the adults came to look for us, because of that matter I almost got beaten to death by my dad.

  Of course, when children speak, adults will not believe them.

  I and several children were playing in the temple, why? Because there were many people inside, men and women, old and young, no less than a hundred or so. Pushing open the door to take a look, we found that they were performing an opera inside, a troupe was singing "Mu Guiying Takes Command". At that time, what could be more enjoyable than watching an opera? We children squeezed into the crowd, and after watching one performance, we forgot about attending the wedding banquet.

  But it's more lively here, with wine and meat pastries on the table, take what you want to eat, pour what you want to drink. For the first time, I felt like I had stumbled into a welfare institution, life was too good here, we kids were playing happily, those people all had smiling faces, I remember sitting in the middle were several old men. They wore strange clothes, all black long robes with embroidered "shou" character patterns, Mu Guiying on stage was stunningly beautiful and danced even better.

  I just followed those people clapping and cheering, anyway when the adults came to find me, I seemed to be asleep, it was pitch black all around, and the show had dispersed. As I was dragged out by my dad with his hand on my ear, I glanced back and saw that what were placed in those houses were all coffins...