The sleeping villagers were awakened by a cry of "Someone has hanged themselves!"
"Who has hanged themselves…"
"Where are they?"
Wang Fugui, upon hearing the shouts, was the first to arrive at the scene. Looking at his uncle, who had hanged himself in his own cowshed, his heart involuntarily clenched.
Wang Fugui had seen people hang themselves before, but this was the first time in his sixty-plus years of life that he had witnessed such a death.
There had been hangings in the village, but those individuals would hang a hemp rope or silk from the roof beam, place a stool beneath their feet, step onto it, and then kick it away, dying upright.
However, his uncle was found half-kneeling on the ground, still a good half-foot from the earth, with his toes dangling above the ground.
With just a slight movement of his feet, he could stand up. How could he have been strangled?
Even if he had been determined to die, he wouldn't have chosen such a method.
Yet, from his uncle's bulging eyes and the dark bluish tint of his face, it was clear he had been strangled.
But even for suicide, one would use a hemp rope or a sturdy cloth belt. Instead, he had used fresh rope grass to hang himself.
Rope grass, found in both the south and the north, was a favorite of cattle and sheep when fresh. To make it tough, it had to be half-dried, woven into a rope, and then continuously exposed to the sun until completely dry. After that, it needed to be soaked in water, a process repeated three times before it was ready for use.
Yet, his uncle had been hanged by fresh rope grass. This stuff, let alone hanging a person, couldn't even securely tie a three-year-old child's hands. To claim it could hang someone was a joke.
But there were three strands of rope grass hanging from his uncle's body. If Wang Fugui hadn't seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have believed such a bizarre event could occur before him.
"Don't just stand there like fools, hurry up and get Uncle down."
After lowering his uncle, they found his body had stiffened, and they had no idea how long he had been dead.
Looking at his wide-open eyes, his face serene, the right corner of his mouth turned up, and his tongue lolling to the left, he looked as if he were making a funny face at someone.
This made the faces of everyone present incredibly grim, as his uncle's expression resembled that of a mischievous child, with a smile that seemed like a prank.
If this smile had been on a child, everyone would have found the child to be truly playful. But on a stiff, elderly man, it looked utterly strange.
Looking at his deceased uncle, Wang Fugui felt a sense of unease, a vague suspicion that something might have gone wrong with the coffin.
He recalled that when people were arranged to carry the coffin during the day, there was one person he particularly didn't want to go, and that was Zhao Quazi.
Years ago, when the two of them were venturing out together, this fellow had sticky fingers, and his legs were broken as a result. Wang Fugui had also been implicated, unable to continue his apprenticeship.
After his uncle had taken people to bury the coffin, Wang Fugui specifically asked his uncle if anything had happened on the mountain.
"No, absolutely not?" Su Dan Novel Network
That night, Wang Fugui had even given extra wine to the men who had gone up the mountain to reward them for their hard work.
Now, it seemed things were far from simple.
Wang Fugui summoned all the men who had gone up the mountain to deliver the coffin to his side room. His face was grim, and his gaze was fixed on them.
His eyes lingered particularly long on Zhao Quazi.
"Tell me, everyone, what happened after you went up the mountain."
The entire scene was eerily silent. No one spoke, and everyone's eyes flickered, as if they were hesitant.
Zhao Quazi spoke up, "What is it, village chief? Are you suspecting us now? We just followed your instructions to bury the coffin, we didn't do anything else."
The idea had been Zhao Quazi's, and he had made everyone swear not to reveal what happened on the mountain. But now that someone was dead, the situation had exceeded expectations. If he didn't say anything, the others might reveal the truth, so he had to speak first.
"Damn it, I asked you? Why are you so eager to explain?"
Zhao Quazi's expression soured slightly when Wang Fugui cursed him. "Village chief, that's unfair of you. You asked us, and we answered, so what's the problem? Even if we've suffered a disaster and are temporarily staying at your house, you can't bully us like this. If you really find me an eyesore, I'll leave."
The villagers knew that ever since Zhao Quazi's legs were broken for his sticky fingers, Wang Fugui had always looked down on him. Because of Zhao Quazi's involvement, Wang Fugui's prospects had also been affected, and in the end, both of them returned to Molu Village.
"Zhao Quazi, it's best if you haven't had any wicked thoughts." After saying this, he glanced at the others present and turned to leave the side room to comfort his uncle's family, leaving the men who had taken gold ingots looking at each other blankly.
"Zhao Quazi, do you think what we took from here has anything to do with this?"
As soon as Village Chief Wang Fugui left, the remaining villagers quickly turned their gaze to Zhao Quazi.
"Why are you all looking at me? Is there gold on my face?"
"Zhao Quazi, don't spew nonsense. Now that Uncle is dead, dare you say it has nothing to do with that thing?"
"Yes! Or should we return the items? Perhaps then we might have a chance to live?"
"I agree."
"I agree too."
Upon hearing this, Zhao Quazi's eyes reddened. "Don't you remember what we said on the mountain? If we return the items now, won't it expose us? Don't you want to get married anymore? Don't you want to build houses?"
Zhao Quazi's words plunged everyone present into silence.
Although his uncle's death was bizarre, no one was certain if it was related to the coffin.
If everyone present had taken gold ingots, why was it that only his uncle was affected?
Moreover, after his uncle took the items, he would surely tell his wife. But his wife, apart from crying bitterly, had said nothing. If they themselves said anything, wouldn't it be obvious that they had taken the items?
"Although Uncle's death was bizarre, it doesn't mean we've encountered anything strange. Let's not overthink it."
Upon hearing this, the people present felt it made sense. Each gold ingot taken from the coffin weighed nearly half a catty, which was a fortune at the time. With it, not only could they live in Molu Village, but they could even buy a three-bedroom apartment in a small town with plenty to spare.
Wang Fugui found no fault with the men who went up the mountain and thought he was just overthinking things. That night, he made simple arrangements, and the next day he found a coffin maker in the village to build another coffin, considering his duty fulfilled.
Regardless, the man had died in his home. Although it was a bit unlucky, there was nothing he could do but accept his misfortune.
After arranging the funeral and dealing with the immediate aftermath, he had no appetite for food or drink.
But just as he had fallen asleep in the middle of the night, screams echoed again.
When Wang Fugui saw what was happening, his whole body turned cold.
This time, it wasn't one person who had hanged themselves, but two, simultaneously.