Volume One: The Eight Coffin Corpse Field Chapter 14: An Empty Dream

Although it wasn’t entirely perfect, Third Uncle said the matter with the house was settled. It felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted from our shoulders; in an instant, the tension that had gripped both of us for days dissolved.

We lay sprawled across the basement floor, utterly exhausted, and fell asleep almost without any transition. That sleep was deep and dreamless; apart from getting up to relieve ourselves, we barely moved. The fatigue—both physical and mental—of these past days was unlike anything I’d ever experienced in my life. Later, I realized that compared to what awaited us, these ordeals were nothing but a prelude.

On the morning of the third day, I awoke to the sound of Third Uncle urinating into a chamber pot near my head. At first, I thought I was dreaming of rain, wiped the droplets from my face, and only then realized what was happening.

Third Uncle, still bleary-eyed, finished and tried to crawl back under the covers, but I grabbed him and after some struggling, we both fully woke.

He stretched, patted my shoulder, and said, “Come on, nephew, let’s go get some breakfast.”

I replied grumpily, “Go eat your fried dough sticks and bean curd.”

He chuckled awkwardly. “Let’s make do for now. Once we cleanse the house, if all goes well, in seven days we’ll get paid. Then we’ll eat at the finest restaurant in Shenzhen.”

I shot him a skeptical look. “You make it sound easy. Even if the house is cleansed, can you guarantee a buyer within seven days?”

He waved me off. “Relax. Who do you think your Third Uncle is? I’ve already lined up a buyer. Just waiting for us to break the curse, and then it’ll be a matter of minutes to sign and get the money.”

Seeing his confidence, I was half convinced. Could it be that Third Uncle had truly managed something reliable this time?

That morning, Third Uncle took me shopping in the surrounding counties for items needed to cleanse the house. He explained that after breaking the curse, there was a crucial step: purification.

Purifying the house, also known as cleansing or invigorating, is referred to in some places as “blessing the four corners” or “blessing the eight corners.” The main purpose is to remove lingering negative energy from the house, so nothing unclean is attracted.

Third Uncle said that “removing negative energy” is just a polite term; in reality, it’s about expelling any remaining spirits. But such talk can cause panic—after all, not everyone believes in ghosts.

Most people neglect or don’t understand the importance of purification, which is why so many cursed houses exist. Those who study geomancy or follow Taoist practices know this step well; one who cannot purify is not a qualified master or disciple.

After a lengthy explanation, Third Uncle laughed, “It’s lucky most folks don’t know how to cleanse a house, otherwise how would we make money?”

I glanced at him—it seemed rather callous. After all, cursed houses bring misfortune, sometimes death. But then, we’re breaking these curses for profit, and by sending lost souls on, we’re also doing a kindness. That thought settled me.

Third Uncle prepared many things: besides the usual grains he used, he bought several bottles of strong liquor, red and yellow paper, red cloth, steamed buns, sandalwood incense, a broom, and other items.

We spent the morning buying supplies. By noon, we reached the deserted building, carrying a large bundle.

At the doorway, Third Uncle donned his tattered Taoist robe. It was stained and patched—likely the very one he wore when he returned from his training, and which had been torn in a fight with the Liang family. He had clearly mended it several times.

I couldn’t help but say, “Third Uncle, is that robe an antique? Can’t you wash it? Just smell it!”

He shot me a look. “You know nothing. My master left me this robe—it’s imbued with spiritual energy. If I wash it, that’ll be gone. I don’t wear it lightly. You come in and learn the process. Someday this will be your job.”

It was the first time Third Uncle mentioned his master, and he sounded rather proud. I wanted to ask more, but he’d already opened the door and entered.

I hesitated outside, recalling the events of that night which were still vivid in my mind.

Third Uncle turned and said, “Don’t worry. It’s midday—no ghost will stir.”

Reassured, I followed him inside. He had me open every window and door on the first floor, then the second. We swept out debris, including the ruined doll, which Third Uncle insisted must be burnt. The Buddha statue from the cabinet was wrapped in red cloth for later disposal.

Third Uncle mixed the grains together in a basin for me to carry. He filled another basin with clear water to carry himself, and broke a millet stalk off the broom to use.

We started at the innermost window upstairs. Third Uncle dipped the millet stalk in water and flicked it outside, chanting: “This house has an owner. Let it be known to all; those who must leave, depart; those who come, return. Grains for humanity, offerings for the spirits; the house deity takes its place, strangers keep away…”

At each window, after Third Uncle flicked water, I scattered half the grains inside and half outside. We continued this to the main entrance.

Finally, Third Uncle took out his compass and set up a simple altar at the house’s center, covering it with red cloth and placing three large bowls lined with red paper, filled with grains. He lit three sticks of incense, offered food and wine, and holding the incense, bowed three times, declaring, “The house deity is here. Offerings are made.”

When the incense finished burning, we left, hanging a piece of red cloth above the door. That concluded the cleansing; the scattered grains needed to remain for at least seven days.

With the last step finished, Third Uncle breathed a sigh of relief and said he could contact the buyer.

I seized the moment to ask, “In your chant you mentioned a house deity. What kind of god is that? I’ve never heard of it.”

Third Uncle lowered his voice, speaking mysteriously, “They call it a house deity, but really, it’s a ghost. Cleansing is about driving out foreign ghosts and settling the household ghost—what we call the house deity. Through cleansing, the house deity announces its authority and warns outsiders that the owner is protected. That’s why it’s said, ‘Without a ghost, a house cannot be peaceful.’”

I nodded. “So breaking the curse means expelling evil spirits, and then inviting the household ghost back—is that it?”

Third Uncle approved, “Exactly. You’re a quick learner…”

With that, he made a phone call. After a brief conversation, he beamed and told me, “It’s done. Seven days from now, we clear out the grains and sign with the buyer. After paying off Chen Da Fa, we’ll net half a million. Just in time for the deadline with Boss Wu.”

I was swept up by Third Uncle’s vision of the future, dreaming of our first windfall in seven days. I owed a fair bit myself, and the thought of being debt-free was exhilarating.

For the first time, seven days felt interminably long—like years stretched out. We spent all of Third Uncle’s last hundred yuan and racked up debts at Guo’s snack stall.

When the seventh day arrived, Third Uncle eagerly grabbed his phone to call the buyer.

But before he could dial, a call came in.

Third Uncle glanced at the number and quickly answered.

As he spoke, I saw him suddenly rise from his chair, his tone shifting, emotions surging. Sensing trouble, I watched him pace the cramped room, arguing fiercely on the phone.

Finally, he shouted, “To hell with you…”

He slammed the phone down in frustration, almost throwing it, but managed to restrain himself.

His expression was grim, dark as thunder.

I asked carefully, “Third Uncle, what happened?”

Still fuming, he replied, “Damn it, what a bastard, all of them are bastards. I’ve been hunting dogs for years, and now a dog’s bitten my leg…”

I reminded him, “It’s ‘hunting geese for years, only to have a goose peck your eye.’”

“It’s a dog—he’s not fit to be called anything else. You know who called? It was Chen Da Fa—that bastard, heard we broke the curse and now he’s reneging. The price he promised means nothing now. How can I not be angry? The buyer is waiting!”

I asked, “You didn’t sign a contract?”

He stomped his foot. “It was urgent—I didn’t think it through. Who knew he’d turn on us?”

I forced a bitter laugh. “Well, we weren’t exactly wronged in this fall.”

All our dreams burst like bubbles. We deflated, like balls with the air let out. We had anticipated difficulties—but only during the curse-breaking. Never expected this twist.

Every plan we had depended on selling the house. Now, with this setback, everything was lost.

Just then, the door was kicked open.

Boss Wu, his face cruel and thuggish, stormed in with his men. He glanced at us and sneered, “Daoist Li, seven days are up. Where’s my money?”