In 1969, I and five other educated youth were assigned to a small village on the border of Inner Mongolia. This place is adjacent to Heilongjiang River, surrounded by endless mountains and primeval forests, with no roads and no electricity. Oil lamps are rare here. Among the six of us, Fatty and I were the most naughty, and we quickly adapted to the life of living off the mountains - in the summer, we watched the crops, picked up mountain products, and occasionally followed the hunter Yan Zi and his daughter to have a bite.
One night, the fat guy and I took turns watching the fields. In the pitch black, I saw a white shadow swaying next to the straw shed. I thought it was a wild animal, so I picked up a branch and poked it gently, but I heard the fat guy howling like a pig being slaughtered - it turned out that he had diarrhea and was squatting on the grass. His white butt was particularly conspicuous in the night.
The next day, Fatty suggested going to Tuanshanzi to poke a beehive in order to "replenish brain cells." We borrowed Swallow's hunting dog Chestnut Yellow and climbed over mountains and hills for half a day. We saw a huge beehive at the edge of the forest, as big as a calf. The black bees were buzzing and circling, making a terrifying sound. The two of us wrapped ourselves tightly in our military coats, covered ourselves with scarves, and used reeds as breathing tubes, intending to lure the smoked queen bee into hiding in the stream.
Fatty poked down the beehive with a pole, and the bees immediately exploded. We lit up the wintergrass, and the bees were in chaos in the thick smoke, but there were still bees that escaped and chased us and stung us fiercely. Fatty and I dived into the stream, and when we emerged, most of the bees were dead or injured. When we got ashore, Fatty's arm was pierced by a foreign object in the stream. I dived and groped, and actually fished out half a blue and white porcelain bowl, which looked like blue and white porcelain from the Song Dynasty. How could there be antiques in this desolate mountain? Yan Zi said that Niuxin Mountain, the source of the nearby river, was said to be the tomb of the Empress Dowager of the Liao Dynasty, and porcelain was often washed up in the river, but no one dared to explore the tomb in Lamagou where the "wild man" and "ghost play" were buried.
That evening, when the educated youth Tian Xiaomeng heard that her mother was seriously ill, she went into Lama Valley alone to pick "Bodhisattva Fruit". At night, no one could find her, so Fatty, Yan Zi and I had to take our guns and dogs and grope our way into the mountains.
There was no path in the deep mountains, and the hunting dog Li Zihuang repeatedly lost the scent. We trudged all night and saw Niuxin Mountain at dawn. This mountain is shaped like an ox's heart, and the nine waterfalls are like nine dragons taking water. According to my grandfather's "Sixteen-Character Yin-Yang Feng Shui Secret Technique", it is the perfect Yin house "Nine Dragons Covering Jade Lotus", which is most suitable for burying women. Yan Zi pointed to the Lama Valley in front of the mountain and said that "human bears" often appear here. The tragic scene of a man entering the village having half of his face cut off by a bear's tongue still scares me.
The three of us searched in the ditch for half a day. When we were near the foot of Niuxin Mountain, Li Zihuang suddenly barked wildly - it was a bear-man pushing aside the bushes, standing upright and roaring at us. Yan Zi was quick-witted and shot the bear-man in the abdomen, but he didn't expect it to stuff its intestines back and continue to rush at us. I shot it again and missed, only blinding one of its eyes. The furious bear-man turned and rushed at me. At the critical moment, Li Zihuang bit the bear's leg to delay it, and Yan Zi and I took the opportunity to climb the tree.
The bear-man failed to hit the tree, so he climbed the tree instead. I loaded the gunpowder and iron sand with one hand, approached and shot, but the angle was wrong, and the bear-man fell from the tree. He simply stopped pestering us and sat under the tree to waste time with us. Hungry and tired, I fell asleep on the tree. When I opened my eyes again, it was already late at night. The bear-man was gone, and Swallow and Fatty were no longer heard.
I went down the mountain in the dark and saw a light in the direction of Niuxin Mountain. When I got closer, I found a huge cave. The cave was brightly lit and there were many buildings. A group of women wearing classical fur coats were surrounding Tian Xiaomeng. When she saw me, she smiled and invited me to watch the shadow play. Although I felt strange, I couldn't resist the hunger in my stomach, so I followed them into the cave.
There was a stage in the middle of the cave, and the shadow play "Di Qing Conquering Kunlun Pass at Night" was being performed with the sound of gongs and drums. I was thirsty and picked up my teacup, but I saw the old lady chewing food in a strange way - her cheeks bulged like a monkey. Just as I was wondering, her head "popped" onto the table, and her eyes were still staring at the stage! The maids seemed to be used to such scenes, and calmly picked up the head and put it back on the neck.
I was so frightened that I grabbed Tian Xiaomeng and ran out. As soon as we rushed out of the cave, the mountain wall behind us suddenly closed, almost squeezing us into a meat pie. As the sky gradually brightened, I suddenly felt a severe abdominal pain and vomited a pool of black blood. I vaguely saw Yan Zi and Fatty coming, and then I fell to the ground.
I woke up three days later. Tian Xiaomeng had been taken away by her family, and the half of the porcelain bowl I fished out had long disappeared. Yan Zi's hunter father said that the legend of the "ghost play" in Niuxin Mountain has a long history. The ghosts of the buried artists are still lingering, and they often lure people with food. But this memory is always vague, and sometimes I can't tell whether I really experienced a life-and-death adventure or an absurd dream when I had a high fever.
I went back to my hometown to visit my relatives during the Spring Festival that year, and I have never been back to the mountains since then. But whenever I think of the nine waterfalls of Niuxin Mountain, the towering ancient trees of Lama Valley, and the strange shadow play, I still feel a chill on the back of my neck - perhaps on a dark and windy night, the "shadow play" in the mountains is still going on, waiting for the next intruder...