In the distance, a white person was playing a saxophone with a vintage feel on the shore. This music easily made time flow backward.

In a trance, Zhui Ye felt he wasn’t sitting by the LA seaside, but in the county town of Qingling many years ago.

There was also a stretch of ocean there, or rather, it would be more accurate to describe it as a mudflat. The seawater was mixed with yellow mud and sand, turbid and murky, just like the people there—ignorant and chaotic.

That was the kind of place where he was born.

But he didn’t hate his birthplace at all. His home was built on a hillside—green mountains and clear waters, beautiful scenery pleasing to the eye, even though there was also a dilapidated temple nearby, adding a touch of twilight gloom.

Very few people still remembered to worship the declining deity statue, but his mother wouldn’t forget. On her way back from buying groceries, she would always place a bright red apple on the shrine.

Sometimes when mom went grocery shopping, she would take him along. He was still a little bean sprout then, looking up at the towering deity statue, curiously poking the cold Buddha’s face with his little finger, immediately getting scolded by his mother with furrowed brows.

“Deities are very sacred. How can you touch them randomly?”

He pouted aggrievedly: “But it’s also a glutton, eating apples every day!”

Mom burst out laughing, then pulled out another apple from the bag and stuffed it into Zhui Ye’s hand: “Alright, this is its hush money for you. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”

Zhui Ye sniffed the apple’s fragrance and reluctantly nodded: “Fine. Then I’ll keep this secret for the deity.”

Mom clasped her hands together, praying and kowtowing to the Buddha statue: “So you must also bless us more.”

He would mimic her and kowtow: “You must bless us more!”

Mom would then smile and ruffle his head, pulling him home to cook.

Lunch was usually prepared quite lavishly because Dad was a night shift driver. He always had to drive out at night to haul cargo, driving along the coastline all night long. Only at noon would he be home. His education level wasn’t high—he could only sell his physical labor. Therefore, rising early and sleeping late, he didn’t earn much, but Mom never complained about this. When she came home from work, she would give him a hug and every few days would buy his favorite pig’s trotters to cook with soybeans in soup.

Actually, Dad didn’t love that dish at all. He even felt disgusted by the taste of pork, because once Zhui Ye accidentally saw him vomiting in the bathroom.

He found it strange and asked Dad, don’t you like eating it?

Dad was flustered for a moment, shushing him and saying don’t tell your mom. Actually, she’s the one who loves eating pig’s trotters, but she’s reluctant to buy them for herself. So I can only trick her by saying I like eating them, and then she’ll buy them.

This fool. Dad muttered, the smile spreading across his face like the sparkling lake water in front of their door.

He rubbed his arms and said with disgust: Dad, your smile is so gross.

He laughed even louder, picked up Zhui Ye and spun him in the air, saying: Son, don’t be too smug, because later you’ll also meet a girl you’d rather vomit for just to make her happy.

The twelve o’clock sky outside the window was so bright. The days seemed to fly up with them—even poverty couldn’t bring them down to earth.

When not busy, Dad would take him and Mom to the seaside together. Because Mom had married here from inland, she hadn’t seen the ocean many times before and had always yearned for it.

She said her life’s dream was to settle by the sea, have a gentle lover, a warm child, three meals a day, four seasons in a lifetime. Heaven had treated her well—it had let her achieve it all.

During that period, what he looked forward to most was his approaching birthday, because at this time, his parents would take him out for a big meal and then to play at the county’s only zoo.

They respected his opinions very much, asking him what cuisine he wanted to eat or directly asking if there was a restaurant he wanted to go to. That year, he had become enamored with a newly opened restaurant in the county. Its walls were sky blue, the dome hung with flowing clouds, and a column descended from the ceiling, surrounded by a circle of colorful carousel horses. Even the seats were shaped like carousel horses.

It was dreamlike enough. Therefore, the moment of collapse was also especially spectacular.

Zhui Ye still remembered their seats were very close to one of the carousel horses, because his parents knew what he valued was this decoration and had specifically reserved the position closest to the carousel’s center.

The closer to happiness, the easier it is for an abyss to exist.

That enormous wooden horse descended from heaven during the collapse, heading straight for the top of his head, as if wanting to carry him flying to paradise.

But it didn’t succeed, because Mom beside him grabbed its wings and took his place.

Dad, who had gone to get the cake, was one step too late. He jogged to the restaurant entrance—what magnificent restaurant was there anymore?

Before his eyes remained only ruins.

The scene was in complete chaos—screaming, crying, wailing… like a human hell.

This small county hadn’t produced such a mass casualty in decades. The news reported on it continuously for half a month, calling that restaurant opportunistic. The ceiling’s distinctive decoration attracted customers, but had major flaws in design and materials, leading to the accidental collapse.

But Zhui Ye knew none of these things.

Although his mother had protected him underneath, when the ambulance arrived, he too was on the verge of death.

And Mom had died on the spot.

He knew nothing, only felt like he had a very long dream. In the dream was still that street for buying groceries and going home. Mom held his hand, passing by that dilapidated temple, kowtowing and thanking the deity. She said: After I’m gone, please bless my child more.

Zhui Ye felt a surge of panic, pulling her hand and asking: Where are you going?

She smiled gently and said: The deity is summoning me back to assist, so I can also supervise its work and give our family’s Aye a bit more good fortune. After all, he ate so many of our apples.

Then, he woke up.

Dad sat at his hospital bedside, his beard grown long, the bloodshot in his eyes tangled together, staring straight at him, saying: “Son, we should have eaten a bowl of longevity noodles that day first.”

“Where’s Mom?”

“…”

The cicadas outside the window arrived earlier than any previous year. It was still early spring, yet one could already hear the rustling cicada sounds.

They say when cicadas cry, people break down.

Inside the window, the man aged overnight, lowering his head, hands holding his head, shoulders heaving in convulsions.

Zhui Ye, covered in wounds, stared wide-eyed at the ceiling. That day was abnormally hot, hot enough to kill him. The broken fan creaked and covered Dad’s very suppressed sobbing—it was the prelude to his instant growing up.

However, he still underestimated the adult world too much. Cruelty was never a momentary thing, but successive waves of labor pains.

Dad had never accurately conveyed to him the news that Mom had passed away, but Zhui Ye wasn’t an idiot—he could guess. He kept making a fuss about getting discharged early, at least not missing the funeral.

Seeing her off from this world was the only thing he could do.

But his dad kept hiding it, not telling him when the funeral was, only letting him rest and recover well.

How could he possibly rest easy?

Until rest time, when people in the ward with many beds gathered were chatting in low voices. He kept his eyes tightly closed, as if asleep, but no one knew his ears were perked up high, taking in their conversation without missing a word.

“That family is truly cursed…”

“It’s the day after tomorrow, right?”

“Why would the Old Wu family choose an old woman who’s already been a mother for a ghost marriage for their son?”

Ghost marriage.

Zhui Ye’s young heart violently jumped once.

He was already closing his eyes, the world pitch dark. But hearing this term, he discovered that people could fall into even deeper darkness, as if it would never brighten again.

In their small city, ghost marriages weren’t anything new. Even a child like him knew about them.

Dead people marrying dead people.

“He was also dining at that restaurant that day. Young people all chase trends, you know. What rotten luck… The master told the Old Wu family that if they wanted a ghost marriage for their son, it’s best to find someone who passed at the same location. Going on the road together won’t be lonely.”

“But no matter what, they shouldn’t find someone who already has a husband and child! Is that proper?!”

“No choice. That family was the only one willing.”

“What was her husband thinking, letting his own wife ghost marry a young man? Can’t even rest in peace after death. Money-crazed, right…”

“Accumulate some virtue with your words! The child is pitiful. Without that ghost marriage money, he can’t survive.”

“What about that restaurant?! They should compensate!”

“Already fled. Money can wait, but can human lives wait?!”

Zhui Ye buried half his face deep into the pillow.

His throat choked badly. One breath couldn’t go up or down. He wanted to jump up from the bed and shout this is impossible! He wanted to tear apart these gossiping women’s mouths to make them stop talking nonsense! He wanted to stand on the top floor and crazily shout at heaven: You liar, what about the blessings you promised? Give me back the apples!

But in the end, he only swallowed lightly, burying his face completely into the pillow.

Before long, a large patch of the yellowed pillowcase became soaked.

He had been puzzled about where the family got the money to let him survive by luck and stay in the hospital for so many days.

It was all because of her.

She died protecting him on his birthday.

She gave him life, and in the end, even her death had to be contributed. She was clearly his mother, his dad’s wife, the most indispensable part of the two of them. Now, she would absurdly become someone else’s family.

Dad had refused to say because Mom no longer had a funeral. What awaited her was a wedding banquet.

Haha, so funny. So funny.

While Zhui Ye laughed under the covers until he convulsed, large tears fell inside, flowing into a river. How wonderful it would be if this river were the River of Forgetfulness. He wanted to discard his memories, didn’t want to live so clearly aware.

When Dad came to see him, he pretended nothing was wrong, as if he still knew nothing like an idiot.

Only he no longer chased him asking when Mom’s funeral was.

Only then did he know that every time he asked, he was inserting another knife into Dad’s heart that couldn’t heal. What naive cruelty. Some pain he needed to endure and digest himself.

On the day the ghost marriage took place, he deceived the nurse, pretending to go to the bathroom, opened the window and escaped along the drainpipe.

He ran wildly all the way, exhausted as he ran home, ran up the hillside. From far away he could see an old-fashioned sedan chair parked at the door. Three or five people gathered at the doorway—the band that would play celebratory music, following the flower sedan all the way to the groom’s house.

After a while, an auntie dressed all in black carrying his mom’s black and white portrait photo walked out.

A red flower was tied to the center of the frame, with ribbons hanging below inscribed with “Bride.” The extremely vivid red clashed with the most solemn black and white, shocking young Zhui Ye.

He shrank in a corner, as if an invisible person had bound his hands and feet, fixing him in place, only sparing his eyes, leaving him only the strength to blink.

He locked eyes with those eyes in the photo. She smiled so lightly, as if welcoming the happiest thing under heaven.

He suddenly burst into tears.

The matchmaking auntie took that portrait photo and placed it in the sedan chair.

His dad walked out from inside the house at this time, solemnly having changed into a set of clean clothes, his chin’s beard shaved clean, even the expression on his face very cooperative, without a trace of excess emotion, seeing “her” off to marriage.

His whole person was like being sealed, revealing a trace of dullness in the indifference. As if this way he could refuse to face the established reality, pretending to deceive himself that it was just a dream.

“Lift the sedan!”

The matchmaking auntie hollered. The celebratory music band began joyfully playing suona, following the sedan carriers down the mountain.

Zhui Ye crouched in the grass for a while, watching them go down a distance before wiping away tears and following down as well.

All the way with gongs and drums, traversing half of Qingling County, finally stopping at the legendary “Old Wu family.”

Their place was much livelier than the Zhui family. At the entrance, a large tent was erected high, with guests seated, large amounts of wine and meat, looking very festive—exactly like an ordinary wedding banquet.

The premise was ignoring the wreaths placed all around and the young man’s black and white portrait photo on the offering table.

The matchmaking auntie took Mom’s portrait from the sedan and placed it on the offering table, setting it in the empty spot beside the young man. The water and fire lamps on both sides of the memorial tablets were like festive red candles, burning eerily bright.

Zhui Ye hid to the side, watching the two photos placed side by side, then tightly tied together with red string.

The moment they were bound, he knelt down from afar, his head deeply lowered.

The Old Wu family’s two parents were also grief-stricken and desolate, their hair half white, barely managing to conduct the wedding.

For the sake of propriety, they had specially invited a song and dance troupe from out of town to offer a blessing song for their son and newly acquired daughter-in-law.

Several young women stepped out from the crowd. They wore uniform tops and short skirts, cheap fabric, tacky colors, but very popular with these county people.

Many guests, drinking the white liquor on the table, happily scanned back and forth over the young women’s faces and legs. The bold ones, using alcohol as courage, directly reached out to grope.

So when Zhui Ye raised his head, this was the scene he saw.

The young woman in the very back row took a big stride with her long legs and directly kicked over one of the bald old men’s chairs.

She cursed and took the microphone to knock on his bald head, spitting: “Dead bald donkey, dare to take advantage of me!”

The harsh sound of the microphone striking the bald head spread all around. The entire ghost marriage was disrupted into chaos by her single action.

But Zhui Ye felt extremely satisfied inside, wishing she would create even more havoc, so this absurd ghost marriage could be reduced to ashes.

Several other people from the song and dance troupe hurriedly restrained her. Only then did the young woman reluctantly turn her face.

She wore exaggerated black eye shadow, flame-red lips, two ridiculous patches of blush on her cheeks.

Makeup vulgar to the extreme, yet it couldn’t conceal her refinement.

That was nineteen-year-old Wu Man.

Thirty-one-year-old Wu Man was beautiful—that beauty was a polished diamond, leaving only the appropriate pure color, flawless, yet making people feel cold.

But the nineteen-year-old her hadn’t yet been cut and tamed. Even though those unremoved impurities could easily cut people, she was extraordinarily vivid. Facing the sun, those impurities converged into a brilliant rainbow, and from the rainbow one could glimpse myriad stars.

Little Zhui Ye stood dazed in place, suspecting he had seen the universe.