The movement to “strike down the rich landlords, fight the landlords, and divide the land” quickly swept into the area where The Brooks Family lived. Suddenly, disaster befell the landlords—some had their homes ransacked, others were publicly denounced and struggled against. For example, the “landlord egghead” would be tied up with rope, thrown down, and dragged back and forth over an ash heap. Every village at that time had a big ash heap, where people dumped ashes. After several burnings, the charcoal residue inside became as hard as ceramic, with sharp edges and corners, much like an ancient iron caltrop. Some landlords were dragged back and forth until the skin on their scalps was worn off, but as long as they were still alive, they had to keep going until they confessed to all the property they had hidden.

At that time, however, David Brooks managed to survive this wave in a rather unexpected way. He was recognized by the people as a “bankrupt landlord.” Although he was also tied up and locked in the cowshed for more than half a month, he was not publicly denounced or tortured.

As soon as the landlords had been dealt with, David Brooks started wandering around the village, whistling and looking quite pleased with himself. Only then did everyone suddenly realize—could it be that this prodigal had foreseen this years ago and deliberately squandered his fortune?

David Brooks never spoke of this, so naturally no one ever found out. In any case, David Brooks escaped a disaster.

Afterwards, David Brooks seemed like a changed man. He no longer indulged in eating, drinking, whoring, or gambling. Instead, he took a compass and a bundle and set off to roam the world. He was gone for more than ten years, only returning home after the Liberation, and on his way back, he picked up a child and brought him home.

Yes, the child he picked up was less than five years old, lying on the snowy roadside, nearly dead.

At that time, David Brooks was only about forty. When he heard the child was an orphan, he decided to take him in. But he didn’t want the child to call him father, but rather grandfather. In his words, he had revealed too many secrets of fate through feng shui, and retribution would fall on his son; only a relationship one generation removed would be safe. So, even though David Brooks didn’t have a wife, he became a grandfather.

David Brooks gave the orphan a name: Brian Brooks. And this Brian Brooks—that’s me!

Chapter Two: Ghostly Opera

I was a pitiful child—my mother died at birth, my father passed away when I was three, and from then on I survived by begging. At five, I fainted from cold and hunger in the wild, and was picked up and brought home by the kind-hearted David Brooks. From then on, I changed my surname and called him grandfather.

Grandpa’s hometown was called Brooks Town. Of the several hundred households in the whole town, most had the surname Brooks. But because Grandpa had been a prodigal son, and later was labeled a “bankrupt landlord” by the people, the The Brooks Family clan had long since drawn a clear line and cut off relations with him. And because he bore the label of “landlord,” Grandpa didn’t get any land in the division, so he couldn’t make a living by farming.

At this point, since Grandpa had me, a burden, he couldn’t go wandering anymore. To support me, he started practicing his old trade in the village—reading feng shui, treating illnesses, exorcising evil spirits, fortune-telling, face reading—he did it all.

And to be honest, Grandpa really did have some skills. He helped quite a few people, and his reputation spread throughout the neighboring villages. At that time, Grandpa David Brooks still walked without a limp. Although we didn’t farm, life was easy and carefree. Every day he strolled around the village, often humming little tunes, living like an immortal.

As the saying goes, “Dragons beget dragons, phoenixes beget phoenixes, and a rat’s child will dig holes.” After spending so much time with Grandpa, I became much like him. He never let me do farm work, but kept me by his side, telling me all about yin and yang, the eight trigrams, the heavenly stems and earthly branches, and feng shui. In his words, “What’s a grown man doing farming? Learn some skills, broaden your horizons, travel the world—that’s what a man should do.”

At first, I didn’t believe any of Grandpa’s talk. All that stuff about spirits and ghosts—who’s ever really seen them? But later, a personal experience changed my mind.

It happened when I was about ten. Since I didn’t have to do chores, I liked to catch wild pheasants and rabbits for a bit of meat now and then.

One time, it was probably around ten o’clock at night. I was passing through the little grove in the village when I suddenly saw a wild rabbit dart out from under my feet. It wasn’t an ordinary rabbit—it looked to be six or seven jin, gray and plump, and it dashed into the woods.

Seeing such a big rabbit, I got excited and hurried after it, hoping to catch it. If I brought it home, I’d have at least two or three big bowls of meat. Just thinking about it made me happy.

As I rushed into the woods, I worried the rabbit would get scared and run off. But to my surprise, as soon as I entered and looked ahead, that big gray rabbit was standing upright on its hind legs, just a dozen steps in front of me, its bright eyes watching me with interest.

Seeing the rabbit so still, I got even more excited. With my years of experience catching wild animals, I knew this rabbit wouldn’t escape me tonight. I quietly picked up a stick from the ground and crept closer. When I was about two meters away, I suddenly swung the stick and lunged at the rabbit.