Chapter 3

The child was drowsy, tossing and turning all night, but felt nothing. When he woke up in the morning, he saw the pillow covered in blood and started crying in fright.

My father had a daughter before me, named Da Feng, who was my older sister, three years older than me. She was still sleeping with me at that time. Hearing me cry, she woke up too. Seeing my neck covered in blood, she was terrified and cried out loudly, "My brother is dying, my brother is dying, Dad, come quick!" She shouted several times, and my father ran up from the yard below the stilt house, "thump, thump, thump," and rushed into the room. Seeing half of my neck covered in blood, and the straw-filled pillowcase soaked with blood, he was so scared that his soul almost left his body. He patted my face and asked if I felt unwell.

I nodded and said, "I feel unwell, my neck is so itchy, itchy to the point of being unbearable, and I can't help but want to scratch it."

I raised my right hand to show my father, and it was covered with dried blood. My nails, which had grown longer overnight, were filled with flesh, looking very terrifying. My father was a barefoot doctor in the mountains. Apart from training in the county, he also inherited some traditional Chinese medicine from his ancestors. Seeing that my pupils were not dilated, although my body was weak, my spirit was still good, he sighed in relief and asked my sister to bring a basin of hot water from the kitchen.

My sister, being obedient, quickly brought a cloth and a wooden basin of hot water. My father held me and moved to the other side of the bed, washed his hands, and then carefully washed the blood off my neck.

Because I had been scratching all night, many of the wounds had scabbed over, and the blood had dried, making it difficult to clean. If the water was too hot or his hands were too heavy, I would shiver in pain. My father, who usually had a rough voice, was also heartbroken for his youngest child. Each of my cries seemed to pierce his heart, and he furrowed his brows, becoming even more gentle.

My father spent over half an hour cleaning my neck. Upon closer inspection, a large patch of bright red tender skin appeared on the right side of my neck, covered with grayish-white or grayish-brown polygonal and rhombic scales, mostly circular, with the front end slanting into the dermis, arranged like tiles under the epidermis, with several rows of saw-toothed protrusions at the edges, resembling the scales of a carp.

Yesterday, it was just red, but overnight, half of my neck had grown fish scales. Many of the scales had been scratched off without me realizing it, and the cleaned wounds oozed clear mucus, emitting a foul fishy smell. My father felt nauseous, but as it was his own child, he couldn't just leave it. He instructed my sister to keep applying the cloth to the wounds and then went to his room to find his barefoot doctor's guide.

That day, my father didn't even eat breakfast. After a long discussion with my mother in the hall, he hurried down the mountain to buy medicine in the town.

That day, I was restless, feeling a burning sensation on my neck, and wanted to scratch it. My sister, however, was watching me, firmly adhering to my father's instructions not to let me use my dirty hands to scratch. Seeing me in discomfort, she gently wiped my neck with a wet cloth. At that time, we couldn't afford soft towels, and the homemade cloth was hard and stiff, causing me to cry out. My mother, watching from the side, shed tears, saying, "This child is suffering, he hasn't had a moment's peace since he was born."

I had heard from the villagers that something had happened when I was born, almost costing me my life, but it was a taboo topic in my family, not to be mentioned. At that time, I was in so much pain that I couldn't think about it, but I could endure it and didn't let Long Genzi, who came to play, mock me.

At noon, my mother, who rarely did so, made a bowl of steamed egg custard in a clay pot, served in a white porcelain bowl, shiny and tender, making one's mouth water. Life in the mountains was hard, and since I had memory, I had never eaten white rice. Corn and potatoes were often the main dishes in the pot. Sometimes, when we ran out of food, we had to go up the mountain to dig for a kind of root, making a food called "mangba." Although we raised chickens, the eggs were used to trade for salt, and life was very tight. This egg custard, made with about three eggs, was a luxury for our family, who hadn't had meat for a long time. My sister, seeing it, only licked her lips and drooled.

I was young but very close to my sister. I scooped a large spoonful and swallowed it, finding it so fresh that I almost swallowed my tongue. Seeing my sister looking at me with longing, I pushed the bowl towards her to let her have a bite.

My sister, though greedy, was already sensible at that time. She glanced at my mother, who, unexpectedly, scolded her, "Eat, eat, what are you eating? Your brother only has a few bites left..."

My mother, usually a kind woman, looked very serious at that moment, her face tight. My sister, unable to bear the scolding, her eyes reddened, and she turned and ran out.

I felt the atmosphere was a bit off, but as a child, I couldn't resist hunger. After my mother comforted me a bit, I finished the egg custard mixed with corn porridge, and drowsiness came over me. I dozed off until sunset, when my father finally returned. It took less than three hours to walk from Majili Longjia Ridge to the town, but my father returned so late because the town health station didn't have the medicine he needed. According to my father, my condition was called ichthyosis, which required Western medicine, such as retinoic acid and vitamin D. In recent years, with the chaotic times, medicines were hard to come by, and he had to beg and plead to get some.

My father spoke confidently, but my mother's tense expression didn't relax. She still called me to eat some dinner and take the medicine.

After taking the medicine, I felt a bit better, and the fish scales on my neck weren't as itchy. I fell into a drowsy sleep. However, I didn't sleep for long before I felt someone blowing in my ear, cold and icy, as if someone had put ice chips on my neck. I vaguely heard the cry of a child, a toddler, "wah, wah, wah..."

I found it annoying and tossed and turned, but the sound persisted. I suddenly opened my eyes, ready to curse, but then I saw a pair of white eyes staring at me intently.

"Ahh..."

I screamed and jumped out of bed, swinging my fists. I saw a white shadow by the bed, which scared me even more. I gritted my teeth and pounced at the white shadow, kicking and punching.

Before I could kick a few times, the white shadow cried out, "Brother, brother, it's me, your sister!"

I looked down and saw that the white shadow was indeed my sister. My neck needed constant application of water, and she was holding a cloth, taking care of me. Seeing this, I felt weak all over. My parents rushed into the room, asked what happened, and told my sister to go sleep in their room, while they would stay and watch over me.

My sister, who had been busy all night and was exhausted, and had just been hit by me, felt relieved and went to the next room to sleep. My parents stayed in the room, comforting me to sleep.

I was really scared, but with my parents by my side, I felt a bit more at ease. However, my neck still felt burning, numb, and itchy, and it took a long time to fall asleep. I slept lightly, and after some time, I heard my mother crying beside me. I woke up a bit and heard her say, "Old Chen, this isn't just a disease, it's possession."

My father remained silent, not saying a word. After a while, my mother continued, "That crazy old Taoist said that Er Dan's fate was too strong, and we couldn't raise him. He suggested we let him take him. It seems his words have come true."

At this, my father finally spoke in a rough voice, "Nonsense, this is my son, why should he be taken by someone else?"

My mother cried again, saying, "Whether he is raised by him or by you, he is still your son. Do you want to just watch your child be taken by evil spirits? How can you be so heartless?"

My father was silent for a long time, then sighed, "Sigh, it's too late. When he was born, we should have let that crazy Taoist take him. Now, what's the point of saying this?"

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