Folk Stories About Corpse Burning

Chapter 25: Tazang Garden

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I was resting today, and Yinyan was also resting, but I couldn't get through to her on the phone. It seemed that she was busy with something during this period. Anyway, there was nothing to do, so I hung the face painting that Mao Xiaoli gave me on the wall. I sat on the sofa and looked at it. I always felt that the woman in the painting had a kind of enchantment and evil spirit. If you look closely, that smile looks a bit like Mao Xiaoli, and if you look more closely, it is actually changing. I was stunned and regretted asking for this painting of Mao Xiaoli. Many people have told me not to get too close to Mao Xiaoli.

The more I looked at the painting on my face, the more confused I became. I got up and went out, driving around. I met my classmates, who took me out to eat and drink with them. They called a few other classmates over, none of whom were doing well. I was the only one who had a car, which was given to me by my master, but I didn't tell anyone.

Unexpectedly, the last student who came only said a few words, called a classmate out, and then never came back. Finally, they all left one after another saying they had something to do, leaving only one classmate. I thought they were weird.

"What's going on?"

My face turned cold, and the classmate hesitated for a long time before speaking.

"They knew you had burned someone to death, so they said it was bad luck and left."

"You go too."

This classmate really left, and I sat there in a daze. Are people who burn people to death so unpopular

My mother actually called me and said she wanted to introduce me to someone.

"Yinyan and I are planning to get married on May Day."

"I think you should take a look, give yourself a chance, and give me a chance too."

My mother wanted a chance, what else could I say? My mother was the most important person in my heart, so what about Yinyan? I still went, I knew it would never work, it was absolutely impossible.

I went to my grandma's house and there were two unfamiliar mother and daughter sitting there. The girl was petite and looked pretty good. After introducing them to each other, they left, leaving the girl alone with me.

"I'm sorry, there's one thing I can't hide from anyone. I'm a refiner."

"Refiner? Steelmaking? My father does that, too. I like this job. The molten steel..."

"It's a bit similar, but not the same. To put it bluntly, I burn people to death."

"crematorium?"

I nodded, and the girl's face turned pale instantly. Then she slowly stood up. I saw her legs were shaking. Then she screamed "Oh my God!" and jumped high. I laughed and didn't feel sad. This was really normal, but the reaction was too strong.

Thinking about my classmates, not one of them was willing to stay and have a drink with me, so I can understand.

My mother and grandmother came back and my mother was furious.

"Just get along slowly and develop feelings for each other, but you..."

"I wonder how you got through your life? Do you still want to have another you? Yinyan won't do that. We have similar tastes."

I stood up and left. I didn't want to create another woman who would suffer sorrow all her life.

It was snowing again. When I entered the office, Yinyan came over. It was her shift today.

"Mingzhe, wait for me when you're done."

"Where have you been? The phone is not working."

Yinyan said nothing and left.

I was a little angry, but when I entered the morgue, I was no longer angry. There were so many dead people lying there. Why couldn't they be happier when they were alive? What else could they be unhappy about

There were six today. I had just hung the deceased on the hearse when Yinyan pushed the door open and came in, which scared me. Normally, no one comes to this place.

"Master, what's the matter?"

"There are fewer today, so I only turned on three furnaces. Mine is not turned on. It's okay. I'll come and help you."

"No, Master."

Yinyan didn't say anything. She pulled the left side of the hearse. I was at the back and she controlled the direction and pushed it into the farewell hall. Two hours later, everything was done.

"Swallow, I agree."

"What?"

I told you that thing and Yinyan looked at you blankly.

"Is there anything strange going on?"

"No, I'm still surprised."

Yinyan didn't say anything else, nor did she say she was going to Master Li Li's house.

I drove out of the crematorium and Yinyan asked me to drive to Xita Temple, which is a mountain located in the north of the city.

Park the car in the parking lot and find a place to eat.

"What is Yanzi still doing here?"

"There is one thing I have never figured out, and I want to take another look."

I didn't ask any more questions.

Xita Temple is a burial pagoda park in this province, with 26 pagoda burials of different heights and arranged in an orderly manner, with urns placed on them. It is a kind of rest garden, with a different form, in the shape of a pagoda.

I don't like coming here. I heard that strange things always happen here. The legends are very detailed and almost everyone in the city knows about it.

After we had dinner, we walked up the mountain. There are six paths leading to the mountain, all paved with bluestone and without steps. When we reached the middle of the mountain, there were five or six burial towers, Yinyan said.

"Eighty percent of these burial towers contain bone boxes."

"Why are there so many?"

"One is the price, and the other is the monks from the Xita Temple who will perform the ritual to help the deceased."

"Is this burial tower the Guixi Pagoda Temple?"

"yes."

We walked upwards, almost to the top of the mountain, Yinyan walked towards a burial pagoda, this burial pagoda is the largest burial pagoda in Xita Temple, called the Buddha burial pagoda. After the death of the abbot, he is buried on the top floor. It is no longer a separate pagoda, and the floor below is for the common people. Because the abbot is on the top, it is also the most expensive. It costs a fortune to get one, and it is full, with no empty seats.

The burial tower is accessed from the inside, and then there are different urns placed one by one, with the urns facing inwards. There are photos on each one, men, women, old, young...

Yinyan and I entered the Buddhist pagoda. There were very few people there. Unless it was a memorial day, there were always few people.

We went all the way up to the thirteenth floor, but we were not allowed to go any further because there was a locked door. That was the burial place for the host.

The strangest thing is that there is an empty seat on the thirteenth floor, which makes me feel strange.

"Why is it empty?"

"This urn has been missing for six years and has been empty ever since."

"Lost?"

"right."

"How could it be lost?"

Yinyan didn't answer. She stood there for a long time, which I found strange.

When she came down, she unexpectedly met the abbot of Xita Temple, who was very enthusiastic when he saw Yinyan.

"Swallow is here, come on, have some tea with me."

Yinyan actually followed him, entered the temple, and sat down to drink tea.

"I'm so sorry that your mother's urn still hasn't been found. It's been six years."

When I heard this, I was stunned. The empty space was actually where Yinyan's mother's urn was. It was lost? Who would steal an urn

Yinyan didn't say anything. We chatted about other things for a while, then we went down the mountain and got in the car, and I asked.

"How could this happen?"

"Yeah, I don't know either. I've been looking for it, but I can't find it. Maybe it was stolen by my father, but my father is abroad, and I haven't been able to contact him, ever."

Yinyan looked ahead coldly.

It's very cold outside today, as always happens the day after it snows, so I'm not planning on going out.

I was watching TV and thinking, I promised the ghost, but nothing happened. This is the creepy part, why didn't anything happen? Or was it waiting for something

I looked at the face painting on the wall that Mao Xiaoli gave me, and I jumped up immediately. Oh my god, it's a crying face, crying, but it turned out to be smiling, it was originally smiling, this is impossible, impossible, absolutely impossible, this is too scary, right

I called Mao Xiaoli, but she told me her phone was turned off. I was stunned.

I put on my clothes and went out to the crematorium. Mao Xiaoli was sitting there in mourning clothes, which made me feel more and more weird.

"Sister Mao, Sister Mao..."

I don’t know what Mao Xiaoli was thinking, but suddenly she screamed “Ah!”, which scared me.

"Why didn't you say anything when you came in?"

"I called you several times."

"oh."

"Sister Mao, that face painting..."

"People have seven emotions and six desires, so they will cry and laugh naturally."

I was confused by what he said. What the hell is going on? That's not a human.

"It's just a picture, a face picture."

"You don't understand this. My paintings are like this."

I was completely stunned. How could this be possible? At this moment, I felt that the person sitting in front of me was not Mao Xiaoli herself, and it was not Mao Xiaoli herself who took me to her house that day, but...

Thinking of this, I shuddered, left immediately and stopped asking.

The matter I promised when my name was called has not been resolved yet, and now another face painting has popped up. Not to mention this, Yinyan’s mother’s urn was stolen six years ago. These strange things make me confused, and maybe this is just the beginning.

I went home and sat there, and the face painting actually started laughing again. This was a rhythm that was going to kill me. I definitely couldn't play like this.

I took the face painting off the wall, packed it up, and prepared to send it back to Mao Xiaoli. I couldn't stand this face painting. I couldn't bear it. I cried and laughed at the same time.

I have never seen such a painting. It is so strange. How did Mao Xiaoli do it? I don't know. I can't figure it out. I looked at the face painting. There was no mechanism. It was just a piece of paper with a painting on it. But I really don't know what kind of pigment was used. When I touched the face, it was the same as human skin.

I took the face painting and returned it to Mao Xiaoli, but she didn't even let me in. She said that the painting that had been given away could not be taken back, and then she slammed the door shut. I really regretted it. The master had said that I was not allowed to have any contact with Mao Xiaoli. It seemed that the master was right. I had no other choice at this moment, and Mao Xiaoli said something.

"Take it back and hang it up, or you'll be in trouble."

I don't know what she meant, but looking at her evil smile, I knew that if I didn't hang up, I would be in trouble.

I went back and hung up the face painting. I didn't look at it, but stayed in the bedroom reading. I like reading, no matter what the book is, I can get into it.

It was not until dark that Yinyan called me and asked me to go to her house for dinner, saying that the food was ready. I really wanted to eat the food Yinyan cooked, which was the authentic food of Master Zhou.

I went over and saw Yinyan wearing pajamas, the kind that kind of thing. I was stunned for a moment, and she smiled at me with her face flushed.

We sat down to eat, and I couldn't mention the face painting at that moment, as it would spoil the mood.

There is a room in Yinyan's house that I have never entered. She said that it was the room of her parents and mother. She has never been in there since she left. It has always been locked and the key is with my grandmother. This has puzzled me.

Master Zhou's son ran away to a foreign country and never came back. He disappeared. It seems that Master Zhou also had a lot of dissatisfaction with this son, so it affected Yinyan, and he hated the whole family as well!

That day, I was supposed to stay there, as Yinyan and I had decided to get married, but we didn't move in. I heard the sound of quarreling coming from the locked room. It was really that kind of sound, coming from that room. I looked at Yinyan, her expression changed a little, but she seemed to be used to it. However, I could still tell that it was indeed coming from that room, although it was very quiet, as if she was afraid that others would hear it.

"It's next door."

This is how Yinyan explained it. I don’t know what was going on in her mind. I can’t stay here. I can’t stand this situation.

When I got home that night, what made me even more angry was that the face painting, which was originally the face of a 17 or 18-year-old girl, had suddenly turned into that of an old lady with wrinkles all over her face. I rushed out like crazy, I couldn't stay in this house anymore. (To be continued)