In 1992, at Laoniutou Ridge in Tang County of Southern Shaanxi.
Yan Huaishan left home early in the morning, cycling across half the county to deliver gifts to seven or eight “relevant departments,” both official and unofficial. He operated a small coal mine on the western ridge—lacking proper qualifications, incomplete paperwork, and serious violations. Without private “tributes,” they could shut him down in a minute.
Then again, in these times, the national economy had just been revitalized and was growing rather vigorously. Regulations couldn’t keep up, so one had to rely on relationships and connections to get things done.
Over the morning, Yan Huaishan gave out twenty to thirty thousand yuan, but far from feeling pain, he was delighted: with connections secured, the mine’s operations would go smoothly. His wife Lin Xirou was pregnant, and after paying someone to check the ultrasound, they said it was a boy.
A boy! A son! The Yan family would have an heir!
With both career and family flourishing, Yan Huaishan was thoroughly satisfied. On his way back to the mine, he pedaled his bicycle with a swagger, humming Teresa Teng’s “Sweet as Honey.”
Even from a distance, Yan Huaishan could see Lin Xirou standing at the mine entrance, her belly slightly protruding.
This wouldn’t do—how could a pregnant woman be wandering about? Yan Huaishan was so flustered he didn’t even bother with the bike stand, carelessly tossing the bicycle aside as he strode forward. “Why did you come here?”
Lin Xirou was twenty-seven or twenty-eight, and true to her name, had a pleasant and gentle countenance. She held up the thermal lunch box in her hand. “The mine’s cafeteria food isn’t good, so I made you pork dumplings.”
Only then did Yan Huaishan realize it was nearly lunchtime, and he felt a surge of pride in having a wife by his side. Those bachelors in the mine, or those whose women were far away in their hometowns, couldn’t enjoy such warm “loving” meals.
He carefully supported Lin Xirou as they walked toward the mine office. “Come, come, watch your step, take it slow.”
Lin Xirou laughed until she was breathless. “I’m barely showing yet, what are you so worried about?”
The office was somewhat messy, with various “Top Ten” and “Advanced Unit” certificates plastered on the walls—all acquired through Yan Huaishan’s networking over the past two years.
Lin Xirou merely glanced at them before averting her gaze. She disliked these fraudulent things, but her girlfriends all praised such behavior in men as being clever, shrewd, and adaptable.
Opening the lunch box released a mixture of chive fragrance, meat aroma, and the sourness of aged vinegar. Yan Huaishan took several satisfied sniffs before digging in.
Lin Xirou sat across the table, taking out knitting needles and a ball of yarn from her bag. She skillfully began knitting a sweater while making conversation. “That Li Ergou, still hasn’t found him?”
Yan Huaishan spoke through mouthfuls of food: “That bastard… stole money from the mine and ran far away. How are we supposed to find him?”
The Li Ergou incident was the only unpleasant matter Yan Huaishan had encountered lately.
But he took it in stride—which mine or factory didn’t have such worthless people? Not only was Li Ergou lazy and always late or leaving early, but he also spread rumors about ghosts in the mine, seriously affecting workers’ morale. After being severely reprimanded, he grew resentful and broke into the finance office at night, making off with nearly ten thousand yuan.
Nearly ten thousand yuan—it still pained him to think about it.
Lin Xirou said, “Really not reporting it to the police? Letting such a bad person off easy.”
Yan Huaishan mumbled even more indistinctly: “Report what? Better to avoid trouble.”
After all, his mine had too many irregularities—he didn’t want to invite the police to look around.
Lin Xirou fell silent, knitting several rows before glancing up to find Yan Huaishan no longer wolfing down his food. He was biting his chopsticks, staring out the window.
Following his gaze, she saw a crowd of workers gathered at the mine shaft entrance. Lin Xirou looked at the wall clock: twelve-thirty—the miners should be coming up for lunch.
She started a new topic: “What’s the main meat dish in the cafeteria today? Lamb?”
Yan Huaishan muttered, “Something’s not right. Did something happen?”
Lin Xirou was startled and looked out the window again. This time, she noticed the irregularity: usually at mealtime, the off-duty workers would race to the cafeteria faster than wolves, but now they were clustered in groups at the shaft entrance, arguing excitedly about something. If you paid attention, you could even see their spittle glistening in the sunlight.
Could something have happened?
Mine operators feared underground incidents most of all, and underground incidents were never as simple as mere scrapes or bumps. Yan Huaishan felt uneasy, put down his chopsticks, and rushed out, shouting from several meters away: “What’s going on? What’s happening here?”
This was an experience gained from years of working his way up: no matter what happened, even if someone died, you couldn’t show fear, panic, or disorder. You had to be fierce, and able to control the situation with just your voice.
The shout had an immediate effect—the clamoring diminished significantly. Team leader Liu Sanchi’s coal-blackened horse-face showed hints of paleness beneath: “B-boss, Li Ergou wasn’t lying, there’s… there’s a ghost down there.”
No deaths—a huge weight lifted from Yan Huaishan’s heart, and he shouted with even more authority: “Damn it!”
When Lin Xirou came over, she heard Yan Huaishan giving everyone a lecture on atheism.
“The books explain it clearly—there are no ghosts in this world. Li Ergou is illiterate, but are you all illiterate too? Where are these ghosts? Bring one out for me to see!”
Chang Xi, a young worker who’d just joined the mine, carefully explained: “We can’t call it out. In broad daylight, I heard ghosts dissolve in sunlight.”
Oh, now they’re being considerate of ghosts?
Yan Huaishan grew increasingly angry: “All of you running your mouths—did you see it? How interesting, what does this ghost look like?”
Surprisingly, people answered.
Mao Wang: “It was white, didn’t see clearly, disappeared in a flash.”
Sun Gui: “It makes sounds, I heard whimpering.”
Han Defu: “I took two honeydew melons down there, and both disappeared!”
Yan Huaishan spoke sarcastically: “Even as a ghost, still craving melons?”
Lin Xirou had a thought. She tugged at Yan Huaishan’s sleeve, pulling him aside: “Could it be Li Ergou?”
Born in the 1960s, she and Yan Huaishan had received solid Marxist-Leninist education and always scoffed at supernatural claims. When hearing about mine disturbances, their first thoughts went to human causes.
—Li Ergou had fled in the middle of the night, leaving his belongings behind, reportedly wearing only a white undershirt and black shorts. “It was white”—could that be the white undershirt? In the pitch-black shaft, white would certainly stand out.
—If Li Ergou couldn’t be found anywhere, wasn’t it possible he was hiding in the mine shaft? “Both melons disappeared”—with no food down there, of course, he’d have to steal.
Yan Huaishan caught on immediately, slapping his thigh: “It must be him, who else?”
Now confident, he turned back with an even harder tone: “Alright then, I’ll go down and meet this ghost.”
Most miners were illiterate laborers—it was difficult to explain materialism to them. The most effective method was letting them see for themselves, exposing this “ghost” before everyone’s eyes.