No one could resist. The voice had an otherworldly pull, swaying their minds and compelling them to nod in agreement.
And so, the games began.
In the middle of the night, under the moonlight, people would find themselves carrying the girl’s spirit on their shoulders. Some jumped rope, some played shuttlecock, and the most common game was hopscotch.
The girl loved all these games. Perched on their shoulders, she would giggle softly, clearly delighted.
“Just a little more, just a little more. You promised to play with me until I don’t want to anymore,” she would whisper urgently, clutching their necks.
But no one could last until the end.
Ghosts are heavy, and the weight of carrying her was like bearing a mountain.
No one could endure it. Everyone broke their promise, stopping halfway, gasping for breath, refusing to continue.
The girl, though quiet at first, would eventually slide off their shoulders and remain silent for a long time.
“You broke your promise! You said you’d play with me until the end! People who break their promises will face retribution!”
This piercing shriek would follow the silence, chilling as an owl’s cry, loud enough for half the town to hear.
“Retribution?” Ban Xia repeated, recalling Xuan Ye’s earlier warning. “Is the retribution… to keep playing? Jumping rope forever? Kicking the shuttlecock until they die?”
“Yes,” Xuan Ye confirmed.
He didn’t describe the details.
For instance, those who broke their promise to jump rope would keep jumping. Even if tied down, they would break free. If knocked unconscious, they would rise again, mindlessly continuing.
Jumping until their legs snapped, their flesh tore apart, and their bones splintered. Still, they wouldn’t stop.
By the time they died, their stomachs would be bloated, their spleens ruptured, filled with clotted blood.
“Their deaths were gruesome,” Xuan Ye added, pausing briefly to sigh.
“I found the rope!” the girl’s cheerful voice rang out from the depths of the cave. “Look, it’s a floral rope. Isn’t it pretty?”
Xuan Ye nodded and, with his still-stiff legs, took a step forward. “I’ll carry you to jump. This big sister doesn’t need to.”
“No!” the girl’s voice suddenly turned sharp. “She has to join too! She’ll swing the rope while you carry me and jump through. That’ll be more fun!”
“Alright. I’ll play with you,” Ban Xia replied firmly, stepping forward and grabbing the floral jump rope.
In Ban Xia’s personal dictionary, there was only room for weighing options and making sacrifices—never for retreating or showing fear.
“Let’s start the game. But first, let’s set some ground rules: how many jumps will it take for you to feel satisfied?” she said, setting the rope in place. She was, in effect, attempting to negotiate a contract with the ghost.
The girl pouted and climbed onto Xuan Ye’s shoulders, tightly wrapping her small arms around his neck without answering.
“Five hundred jumps. That’s a lot already. After we’re done, I’ll play hide-and-seek with you,” she finally said.
“Alright, five hundred it is,” the girl agreed in a soft, syrupy voice, resting her head sideways against Xuan Ye’s shoulder.
And so, the game began.
Ban Xia swung the rope in a smooth arc. Xuan Ye, carrying the girl on his back, deftly stepped through the loop, knees bending and straightening in the damp, dark cave as he jumped.
“One, two, three… ninety-nine, one hundred,” Ban Xia counted crisply and resolutely.
The girl remained silent, her head pressed against Xuan Ye’s shoulder. But her once-pristine forehead gradually began to decay. Blood, mingled with pus, oozed from the corner of her head and dripped slowly.
This was how she had looked when she died: a once-clean, pretty child whose body had been consumed by rot and stench.
It wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t meant to disobey by peeking into the basin of freshly boiled water.
The water had been prepared by her mother, who had burned a lot of straw to heat it. It was meant to be cooled down and used for her baby brother’s bath.
It was nearing the New Year, and the entire family needed to bathe. But there was only this one bucket of hot water.
Her beloved little brother would bathe first, followed by her father, mother, eldest sister, second sister… and only then would it be her turn, the seventh child.
By that point, the water would be cloudy, greasy, and reeking of oil. It would smell unpleasant, making her feel uncomfortable.
She hadn’t meant to disobey. She had only fetched a stool to peek at the bucket of hot water, wanting to inhale its fresh steam and imagine what it would feel like to bathe in such clean water.
She had always been obedient. Everything that happened was just an accident.
The stool’s front legs were unsteady, and she toppled into the boiling water. It truly was an accident. She hadn’t wanted it to happen.
Her family was poor. They couldn’t afford a doctor to treat her burns, and she understood that. She never asked for help. Even when the pain was unbearable, she stifled her cries, letting out only the faintest whimpers.
Ever since she understood she was the seventh daughter, she had always been so obedient.
But her father didn’t see it that way.
From the day she was born, he had seen her as an unnecessary burden. Now, with her burnt and rotting flesh stinking up the house and her pained whimpers disrupting everyone’s sleep, his disdain for her only deepened.
And so, time slid inexorably toward that fateful day.
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