Ghost Breath - C49

When my grandmother was alive, she loved to nibble on her chicken feet. Earlier on, she sent someone to the town to buy chicken feet, but later on, she found it troublesome and decided to do it herself. She first washed all the chicken feet clean, then enlarged the pot and boiled it with water. Finally, she added in various seasonings and stirred it. When the fragrance of the bowl of chicken feet was out of the oven, she took it in her hands and ate it with relish.

Gritting the chicken feet was probably the most interesting thing that Grandma had ever done in her life.

Even though she had broken her leg more than a year ago and could not get out of bed all day, she was still thinking about chicken feet and occasionally had someone buy her some. Even the night before her death, she had gnawed at several chicken feet.

When Grandma died, there was really no sign at all. She could eat and speak clearly, but that morning, while my aunt was feeding her porridge, she suddenly couldn’t catch it in one breath and left the world in a hurry.

I still don’t understand what the cause of my grandmother’s death is, so old age is a bit of a drag, but my family lives in the countryside, and I have a big family, my first uncle, first aunt, second uncle, second aunt, my aunt, my cousin, and my cousin. Other than me, who was in elementary school in the town for a few years, no one else knows Chinese, so my mind is especially pedantic, and I always think it’s natural for people to die of old age, regardless of the cause of death.

After all, after Grandma broke her leg, she was always in bed and needed someone to take care of her. At the beginning, it wasn’t a big deal, but as time went by, the rest of the family would more or less complain, and my uncle and aunt would often say bad things to Grandma. I can’t say for sure that my uncle and aunt would have wanted my grandmother to die soon, but it’s funny, because at all the rituals that my grandmother died, my aunt was the one who cried the most, why did she say “like,” because I knew she was acting, and of course it wasn’t just my aunt who was acting.

After Grandma left, everything went well, and I even thought everyone was having a happier time. His grandfather had died early on, and now that his grandmother was dead, there was no longer any need for him to take care of this old man.

Not long after, something strange happened at home.

My granddaughter was the first to notice the strangeness.

The situation that night was like this: I had to urinate in the middle of the night and go out to the hut to relieve myself. I could vaguely see a figure in the kitchen, sitting on a wooden stool, bowing and repeating a small movement. After looking at it for a while, I found that it looked a bit familiar. It was exactly the way my grandma looked when she was gnawing on the chicken feet!

Because aside from his grandma, his first and second aunt occasionally nibbled on chicken feet as well. This time, his second aunt made a basin and put it in the kitchen. He didn’t expect to attract his grandma, who liked nibbling on chicken feet, over there.

I was so scared that I accidentally peed on my pants, and then I ran back to my room. The next day, a few chicken feet were missing from the kitchen, and I knew — Grandma was back!

But I didn’t dare tell this to my family, so when my second aunt asked why the chicken feet were missing, I could only admit that I had bitten them.

After this incident, I often saw my grandmother in the middle of the night, hiding in the kitchen and nibbling on her chicken feet. After a while, I realized that I couldn’t hide it any longer, so I finally told her the truth. From that day on, his second aunt did not dare to make chicken feet anymore, and his grandma also did not appear.

Unfortunately, the good times didn’t last long. Soon, something even stranger happened at home.

First uncle and first aunt were the problems. One morning, my aunt was shouting like a madman. She woke up to find her and my uncle’s hands were long and thin, and covered with wrinkles like pimples!

In my opinion, the way their hands look, it’s like… Chicken claws!

A few days later, Second Uncle, Second Aunt, and Cousin’s hands also began to change into chicken claws.

The village suddenly burst into discussion. Many people said that our family was not filial when we were alive, and all of us hoped that the old lady would die early. After that, she would not even cook chicken feet. First aunt is a typical rural shrew, do not listen to these gossip, so all day long and the village people quarrelled, endlessly. Until one night, when she was sound asleep, something bit off two of her fingers and she fainted on the spot.

After the incident, we sent First Aunt to the hospital together, all the way to the house, Aunt was screaming like a pig, the rest of the family didn’t dare to talk, no one talked about what bit off Auntie’s finger, and no one talked about where her finger had fallen, because the answer was obvious, Granny was trying to get back at her by treating Aunt’s finger like a chicken’s paw!

The doctor was startled when he saw our family’s claw-like hands, but the small local hospital didn’t want to care too much and could only say that they didn’t know what was going on. When we were done with the bandages, First Aunt’s expression was bleak. She finally told us that Granny’s death was indeed related to her. It turned out that that morning, First Aunt had cooked the porridge for Grandma as usual, but who knew that because of her defeat at the mahjong field, she had been angered, and because she found it hard to serve her, she had deliberately placed a few big red dates in the porridge. Grandma didn’t wear a set of false teeth, so she could only swallow a few big red dates.

To be honest, I wasn’t that surprised when I heard about it, and the rest of us looked like me, too, considering that we’d all been at her bedside the day Grandma died, but no one was going to take her to the hospital. So it seemed that Grandma was angry with us for taking revenge on us, especially since we didn’t even cook her favorite chicken feet. She wanted to get even worse, so she just bit off the finger of the main culprit. And I don’t think she’ll stop, because the other family members have turned their hands into chicken feet, and I expect her to bite them off one by one.

The next day, I moved to town, and since my parents had been doing business there for a long time, they rented a house there.

But when I went, my parents happened to be out, and I was alone at night.

At night, as I sat on my bed against the wall, I was still afraid, because I remembered something.

The hard red dates my aunt fed my grandmother were the ones I bought in town.

It was clear that Eldest Aunt’s intention of harming Granny had already been revealed.

I also know that red dates were eaten by my grandmother, but I still don’t mind.

In fact, when I saw two red dates left in my grandmother’s porridge, I could guess what had happened to her.

But I remained indifferent.

At this moment, I couldn’t help but shiver as I stood in the small room. Unknowingly, the sound of light footsteps came from outside the door. Immediately after, an old and frail figure unexpectedly passed through the door and appeared beside my bed.

Only then did I notice that my hands had also become chicken feet.

Oh no!