The Last Breath Chapter 7

The neighbors gradually stopped, whispering among themselves at a distance.

Having experienced this firsthand, Mom and Dad were clearly frightened too, instinctively looking back to Uncle Samuel.

Uncle Samuel's face was calm. Dad's harsh words hadn't bothered him at all. As a practitioner of traditional folk customs, he'd seen similar situations many times.

"Endure one more night. As long as you follow my instructions, my sister will ascend to paradise and your child will be saved," Uncle Samuel said.

"Still planning to use feces and urine to ward off evil?" Dad held firm to his principles. "Absolutely not. Our family must stay together. If something happens to my child, I won't want to live either."

"Are you certain?" Uncle Samuel asked. "Between your deceased mother and your healthy child, which matters more to you?"

"Of course my child," Dad answered.

Uncle Samuel asked again: "Even if it means your mother becomes a wandering ghost, you'd still choose that?"

Dad raised his voice: "However important the deceased may be, if they threaten the living, any dead person takes a back seat! I don't even accept that thing as my mother—but even if it really were my mother, she'd have to accept this logic!"

After hearing this, Uncle Samuel let out a long sigh. "Fine. Your mother, your child—you decide. If we're only protecting the living, I have one absolutely reliable method."

When we went back inside, my weight had returned to normal. Dad alone easily carried me back to the bed.

We swept away the wood ash, threw out the burial shroud, removed the coffin nails, cleaned the bed, and I changed into spare clothes.

The sleeplessness from the previous night hit me like a wave. With Mom and Dad by my side, I slept through the entire day.

When I opened my eyes again, the old house was packed with people.

Uncle Samuel's method was simple and brutal—with enough human presence and strong life energy, that thing wouldn't dare approach.

After tonight, that thing could no longer harass me. It would only become a lonely ghost wandering the wilderness.

As for whether that thing was really Grandma, I didn't want to think about it, didn't dare to.

Uncle Samuel called in his mahjong buddies, relatives from the family, and other warmhearted villagers—a lively crowd of 37 people.

Among them were 15 "complete people."

"Complete people" meant those whose parents were alive, whose marriages were harmonious, who had all their siblings, and who had both sons and daughters. Folk tradition viewed complete people as lucky stars, essential for both weddings and funerals.

Everyone knew tonight was about using life energy to ward off evil, but they couldn't just sit there staring at each other with nothing to do, or they'd start getting anxious.

If everyone got anxious, that would create a deathly atmosphere, and the life energy would dissipate.

So two bedrooms each had two mahjong tables set up, each table surrounded by several loud spectators. On the bed was a small wooden table laden with food and drinks, with people sitting around cracking sunflower seeds and chatting.

Everyone lived in the same village. Those who were already close naturally talked animatedly. Strangers found common topics and warmed up after a few sentences. Those with grudges listened to some mediation, clinked glasses of liquor, laughed heartily, and turned hostility into harmony.

The back kitchen wasn't quiet either. The big black wok was back on the fire. Anyone who fancied themselves a decent cook gathered around.

Some manned the wok, others assisted, and those who couldn't help stood to the side offering loud advice.

The courtyard was even livelier. Uncle Samuel had somehow rounded up a group of children—all born at noon, brimming with yang energy. Each got firecrackers and sparklers, and their parents gave permission to stay up as late as they wanted.

Permission to stay up late was a supreme gift to mischievous children. The kids ran wild. If Uncle Samuel hadn't intervened in time, they might have torn the roof off.

I sat in the inner part of the bed, surrounded by dozens of people in the center, feeling an overwhelming sense of security.

Thinking back to last night's horrors, it felt like the difference between heaven and hell.