Heavenly Eyes

CHAPTER 3

Section 5: Hats

From then on, Li Zhuangzhuang and I became best friends, establishing a solid friendship of comradeship.

 

But his grandfather wouldn't let him play with me. Every time he played with me, he would get spanked when he got home.

 

Li Zhuangzhuang would cry while being beaten, jumping up and down.

 

But he was very stubborn: “I'm going to play with Shen Tongtong. She's my best friend”

 

Seeing him get beaten so badly, I also shed tears silently in my heart.

Li Zhuangzhuang, you're my best friend too!

 

Then I took a bite of the roasted sweet potato—so delicious!

 

One weekend, to prevent Li Zhuangzhuang from getting beaten, I went to play alone in the small woods by the river in the village.

 

There's a small valley in the woods, the locals call it ‘Dead Man's Gulch.’ In the past, children from the village who died and couldn't be buried in the ancestral graveyard were buried there.

The adults all said that place had heavy Yin energy and told us not to go there.

 

But I'm very curious; the more adults forbid me from going somewhere, the more I want to go.

 

Besides, I've always been a thoughtful child. That place had few people; I could count ants and play there for a long time by myself.

 

That day, while I was playing, I suddenly heard a voice ask me, “Are you the child from the Flower Goddess's family?”

I turned my head and saw a child standing in front of me, wearing cotton clothes and pants, cotton shoes, and a little tiger hat.

 

His face was round and slightly flushed, his eyes dark and shiny.

 

I was immediately curious about his outfit.

 

Because in our time, people no longer wore these hand-made clothes; everyone bought clothes made by machines in factories in the county town.

I said, “Yes, the Flower Goddess is my maternal grandmother. What's your name? Are you from our village? Why haven't I seen you before?”

 

He said his name was Abao, and he was from our village, living on the hillside below my house.

 

He also said my hat was pretty and asked if we could trade.

 

I was a very generous child when I was little.

Because my family was relatively well-off, other children in the village would ask me for the new and interesting things my grandmother bought me, and I would always give them away without getting angry.

 

I already thought his hat was cute, so when he asked to trade, I was very happy and immediately exchanged hats with him.

That day, Abao and I played in the small woods all afternoon.

 

When I saw the sun setting, I heard my grandmother calling me from the doorway: “Tongtong, come back for dinner!”

 

Hearing my grandmother, I said goodbye to Abao:

 

“Abao, I have to go home for dinner! Let's play again next time!”

Abao said, “Okay, let's play together again next time.”

 

Then I hopped and skipped home.

 

“Grandma, I'm back!”

 

My grandmother was startled when she heard my voice: “Tongtong, where are you?”

 

Seeing my grandmother's expression, I got scared too.

I ran over and grabbed my grandmother's hand: “Grandma, I'm here!”

 

My grandmother felt my body temperature and finally relaxed.

 

But she stared at me, still looking puzzled.

 

“Tongtong, why couldn't Grandma see you? Where did you play this afternoon?”

Grandma had told me not to play in the small woods next to ‘Dead Man's Gulch,’ but I went there secretly anyway.

 

So when Grandma asked me, I stammered, only saying that I had played with the village children all afternoon.

 

The small woods are also in the village, and Abao is a village child; I wasn't lying!

It was like I had become invisible; Grandma tried many ways but couldn't see me.

 

At first, I thought it was fun, but later, seeing how worried Grandma was, I told the truth.

 

“I'm sorry, Grandma. I actually went to play at ‘Dead Man's Gulch’ today. I also met a child named Abao, and we played together.”

Even though I was young, I knew quite a bit, and I guessed that what happened to me was related to the child named Abao.

 

Because my eyes were different from others, I could see things others couldn't.

 

When Grandma heard me mention ‘Abao,’ she immediately pressed me for details:

 

“Abao? What did he look like?”

I described Abao's appearance, and Grandma was stunned for a moment before sighing.

 

Then she told me a story.

 

It turned out that Abao was indeed a child from our village, but he had been dead for over twenty years.

 

He was the same generation as my mother; strictly speaking, I should call him uncle.

Uncle Abao's father was a son-in-law who lived with his wife's family. In those days, sons-in-law who lived with their wives' families were looked down upon.

 

His grandmother and mother were very harsh to his father, which led to Uncle Abao also being looked down upon in the village.

 

Uncle Abao felt very sorry for his father. One day, after his father was scolded again by his grandmother, Uncle Abao couldn't take it anymore and committed suicide in the river by the small woods.

Before he died, he had a piece of candy his grandmother had given him in his mouth. Even after they retrieved his body, the candy was still intact.

Back then, conditions were poor. When a child died, they couldn't afford a coffin, so the villagers made him a wooden box with planks and buried him in ‘Dead Man's Gulch.’

 

It was summer, and the smell of the decaying body attracted wild boars from the mountains. They dug up the wooden box and ate the child's body. Torn pieces of clothing were hanging from the branches, a terrifying sight from afar.

That's also why the adults didn't let the children go to ‘Dead Man's Gulch’ to play, because they were afraid of encountering wild boars.

 

And the reason I became invisible was because I was wearing Uncle Abao's hat.

 

Once I took the hat off, Grandma could see me again.

The next day, Grandma took some fruit offerings, incense, candles, and paper money to the small woods to make an offering to Uncle Abao.

 

She said I was a child who didn't understand and asked him not to bother me.

 

She offered the gifts and incense and paper money as a sign of my respect.

 

And she warned him that if he dared to bother me again, she wouldn't be polite.

After Grandma finished speaking, she burned the paper money. Seeing the ashes swirling in circles, her expression finally softened.

 

After the memorial, Grandma took my hand and left, telling me never to play there again.

 

I agreed verbally, but I kept thinking about Uncle Abao.

 

The small woods are so secluded, and Uncle Abao had been there for over twenty years with no one to play with. How lonely he must have been.

And, I hadn't returned his hat yet.

 

So, I disobeyed Grandma and secretly returned the hat to Uncle Abao.

 

I even imitated Grandma, taking an apple and sticking incense into it as an offering.

 

Uncle Abao didn't appear in front of Grandma, but he did appear to me.

 

Seeing me offering incense, he seemed a little gloomy: “You know? Then why did you come back? Aren't you afraid of me?”

I shook my head: “I'm not afraid! We used to have an aunt tied under the eaves of our house, and she's been dead for over a hundred years. You've only been gone for twenty-odd years!”

 

Uncle Abao laughed: “Then will you play with me again? I promise I won't hurt you!”

 

I said: “Okay, but I have school tomorrow. I'll come see you again on the weekend.”

 

Then I tried to return his hat.

Uncle Abao said to keep it; he still liked my hat!

 

I took the hat home and hid it in the cupboard; Grandma couldn't see it anyway.

 

This was my secret with Uncle Abao.

 

Later I told Li Zhuangzhuang this story. He believed it completely and insisted on coming with me next time, saying he wanted to bring Uncle Abao a gift.

Section 6: The Tree Hollow

In the countryside, chopsticks used to be homemade.

 

People would cut bamboo from the hills behind their houses, split it with a cleaver, remove the splinters, and shape them into a design that was wider at the top and narrower at the bottom.

 

Since the bamboo was free, they'd make a lot at once.

 

But gradually, the chopsticks would mysteriously disappear, which was quite frustrating.

That day, Grandma had prepared dinner and asked me to get the chopsticks.

 

When I went to get them from the chopstick holder, I discovered that more than half were missing. I scratched my head in confusion.

 

“The chopsticks I just made last month are gone again!”

 

As soon as I said that, I heard a burst of children's laughter nearby.

 

I chased after the sound and saw several dark figures running away from my house.

“Chopstick thieves!”

 

I chased after them, but the figures had disappeared. A single chopstick lay on the ground.

 

Grandma, unable to find me for dinner, came looking.

 

“Tongtong, what are you doing standing at the door? Come eat.”

 

I pointed outside: “Grandma, there were thieves! They stole chopsticks!”

 

Grandma listened to my description and laughed, saying, “It's those little hat-wearing spirits.”

The ‘little hats’ that grandma mentioned are children who died young like Uncle Abao. Over time, they had become something like mountain spirits or goblins.

 

They wore little hats, making them invisible to ordinary people.

 

Because they were still like children in spirit, they would steal people's chopsticks to play with in the village.

 

They would also steal fresh eggs from chicken coops to eat.

Eggs stolen by the little hats, when opened, would be missing their egg white and yolk; instead, there would be a black, snot-like substance inside.

 

Grandma said they were unfortunate children who weren't harmful and that we shouldn't mind them.

 

I secretly learned how to make chopsticks from bamboo, just like Grandma.

 

But I was still curious why they stole chopsticks. One day, I chased a little hat to the highest peak in the village, to the ancient tree at the bottom.

 

The tree was incredibly thick, its age unknown, requiring more than a dozen adults to encircle it with their arms.

In the middle of the trunk was a hollow, large enough to fit a rural eight-legged table.

 

Because legend said a monster lived inside, no one had been near it for over a decade.

 

Yet, the hollow was now crammed full of countless chopsticks, overflowing with them.

 

It was impossible to know how many people's chopsticks the ‘little hats’ had stolen.

I tried to take a chopstick from the hollow, but with a ‘whoosh,’ a huge pile of chopsticks tumbled down on me.

 

I managed to struggle free, only to find myself under a gigantic shadow.

 

It looked like a snake, but I'd never seen one so enormous. Its head was as big as a bushel basket, and it lowered its head to look at me, its eyes as large as lanterns.

 

I was a rather brave child.

 

Seeing such a huge snake, I wasn't scared at all; in fact, I wanted to touch it.

The giant snake raised its head and pushed me down.

 

The mountaintop was a slope.

 

When the big snake pushed me, I rolled down.

 

Luckily, the slope was relatively smooth, without many rocks to trip me, and I landed in a pile of dry leaves without serious injury.

 

But that snake was dishonorable; pushing me for no reason made me very unhappy.

I got up and tried to find the snake to confront it, but it was gone.

 

Later, I told Grandma what happened. She told me that a thousand-year-old snake spirit lived in that tree.

 

Originally, it lived in a large tree on my Grandma's family's land.

 

Because of road construction, the tree where it lived was cut down. The snake spirit had nowhere to go, so it came to our village.

 

Grandma also said, “That snake spirit has very high cultivation. It's about to undergo a heavenly tribulation; it might even become a dragon. Don't disturb it.”

Hearing that, my eyes widened in amazement.

 

“Wow! Become a dragon? So cool! Can I touch it?”

 

Then I thought again, it used its head to push me over today - what a grumpy thing!

 

It has such a bad temper before even becoming a dragon; what will happen if it actually does?

 

Forget it, I'd better not provoke it.

Unexpectedly, that night I had a dream.

 

In my dream, I went back to the mountaintop. The giant snake slid down from the tree crown, used its head to lift me up, and carried me through the forest.

 

I vaguely heard a deep, muffled voice beside my ear saying, “Little one, don't call me grumpy anymore.”

 

Me: “???”

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