On the night of the Lantern Festival, no one expected a sudden, ferocious fire to strike.
That day, many residents of Zhangjiazhuang had climbed to the mountaintop to attend the blessing ceremony at the Dragon King Temple, leaving mostly women, the elderly, and children behind in the village. By the time someone discovered that Zhang Qiang's house was on fire, it was already too late. Raging flames filled the sky, casting a fierce glare as if the entire mountain were burning.
"Help! Fire! People are burning to death!" Tan Yue'e, a widow living at the northernmost edge of the village, turned ashen with terror upon hearing that Zhang Qiang's house was ablaze. Grabbing a bucket of water from her home, she ran through the streets, weeping and screaming.
The entire village of Zhangjiazhuang was in an uproar! Terrified out of their wits, people grabbed wooden buckets, basins, and gourd ladles, stumbling and scrambling as they rushed toward Zhang Qiang's house to fight the fire.
Seeing that the fire was growing too large to control, Tan Yue'e cried and screamed, trying to hurl herself into the blazing inferno to save lives, but she was grabbed around the waist by the crowd and held back. "Have you lost your mind? With a fire this big, going in there is sheer suicide!" everyone shouted, trying to stop her.
"He can't die! He can't!" Tan Yue'e wailed, her heart breaking as bitter tears streamed down her face, and she collapsed to the ground.
The villagers had already been stunned and terrified by this inexplicable blaze, and Tan Yue'e's weeping and hysterics threw them into even greater confusion. Too overwhelmed to pay her any further mind, they blindly pressed on with their frantic efforts to put out the fire.
It was now nine o'clock at night. Three tolls of the bell signaled the end of the Lantern Festival blessing ceremony at the Dragon King Temple. As the abbot and his disciples finished chanting the final volume of scriptures, the worshippers knelt to burn incense and kowtow, praying to the Bodhisattva to bless the coming year with a bountiful harvest and safety for their entire families.
Just then, a boy of about ten years old appeared outside the main hall, looking around anxiously. His eyes darted back and forth until he finally recognized Zhang Qiang. Slipping quietly into the dense crowd, he weaved his way through until he reached Zhang Qiang's side. Grasping Zhang Qiang's arm tightly, he whispered into his ear, "Dad, hurry home! Your house is on fire!"
Zhang Qiang had been murmuring incantations to pray for Zhang Sheng's safe return. Taken completely by surprise, he froze in utter astonishment, then hastily stood up and swept the boy up into his arms, carrying him outside the main hall.
"Xiaojie, what did you say? Say it again!" Zhang Qiang's eyes were bloodshot with panic as he shook Xiaojie's arm so hard that the boy cried out in pain.
Breaking free from Zhang Qiang's grip, Xiaojie stepped back a few paces and said, "Your house is on fire! The fire was too big, Mom couldn't save them, and she thought you were dead. She's sitting there crying."
Zhang Qiang felt a ringing in his head as a suffocating wave of dread surged from the depths of his soul. In an instant, dizziness overwhelmed him and the world seemed to spin upside down.
Just then, Zhang Sheng hurried out of the main hall in a panic. Seeing the scene before him, he stood completely bewildered, unable to make head or tail of what was happening.
"Quick, let's go! Back to fight the fire!" Catching sight of Zhang Sheng, Zhang Qiang suddenly snapped out of his daze and bolted down the mountain at a dead run.
Stunned into horror, Zhang Sheng stopped asking questions and hurried down the mountain with Xiaojie in tow.
As it turned out, Tan Yue'e and Zhang Qiang had been carrying on a clandestine affair. While they maintained a strictly neighborly facade in public, they behaved like a deeply devoted couple the moment they were away from prying eyes. Tan Yue'e made her son Xiaojie call Zhang Qiang "Uncle" in public, but addressed him as "Dad" in private. When the sudden fire broke out at Zhang Qiang's house, Tan Yue'e, believing that Zhang Qiang had also been consumed by the flames, had wept inconsolably.
Xiaojie was an observant and clever boy. Though heartbroken by his mother's frantic weeping, he stubbornly refused to believe that Zhang Qiang had burned to death. Knowing that the Dragon King Temple held a blessing ceremony every Lantern Festival—and that Zhang Qiang had secretly taken him there in previous years—he had harbored a sliver of hope and slipped off to the temple to look for him, and sure enough, he had found him.
When Zhang Qiang and Zhang Sheng rushed home, the fire had already been extinguished, but it had devoured everything in its path. Wherever the flames had reached, everything was reduced to ashes amid billowing smoke and a scene of utter, blackened devastation.
Waving their torches high, several elderly villagers hurried over to drop their water buckets and offer comfort upon seeing Zhang Qiang and Zhang Sheng return. "The fire was simply too massive. We all did our absolute best, but there was nothing we could do..."
Standing before the smoking expanse of ruins, Zhang Qiang first stood frozen like a wooden statue, then charged frantically into the thick smoke, weeping and calling out as he searched for his wife and three children.
Zhang Sheng was paralyzed by the sight before him, his legs unable to move an inch for the longest time as he kept repeating to himself, "How could this happen? How could this happen?"
With the help of all the villagers, the mutilated remains of Sister-in-law Zhou and the three children were finally recovered from the ruins... A profound sorrow settled over the entire village.
"Dear God, why won't you punish me? Everything is my fault, you should be punishing me!" Unable to bear the reality before him, Zhang Qiang went mad with grief, shouting and crying as he fled toward the back mountain.
Understanding the agony tearing at Zhang Qiang, Zhang Sheng and the villagers let him go to the back mountain to vent his grief. Fighting back his own sorrow, Zhang Sheng began discussing the funeral arrangements with several of the village elders.
The villagers buzzed with speculation. Some claimed the dry weather and parched air had sparked the blaze; others blamed the disaster on the lanterns at Zhang Qiang's house; still others whispered that someone must have set the fire on purpose. Amidst these idle conjectures, rumors began to spread quietly through the village about the illicit affair between Zhang Qiang and the widow Tan Yue'e.
On one hand, Zhang Qiang suspected that Heaven was punishing him; on the other hand, he could not help wondering whether the fire had anything to do with Tan Yue'e. She had said to him on multiple occasions, "If your wife and three children suddenly disappeared, the three of us could be together forever! I'm sick of living this sneaking, secret life."
On the back mountain at night, pitch-black darkness reigned everywhere. The great fire had startled the birds and beasts of the forest, and strange cries echoed through the trees from all directions.
Zhang Qiang came to the spot where he and Tan Yue'e used to meet in secret. With a heart too full of unspoken troubles, he leaned against the trunk of a large tree and wept bitterly, tears streaming down his face without ceasing. Suddenly, he fancied he saw a familiar figure walking slowly toward him. "Who's there?" he cried out in sudden panic. But apart from the grotesque shadows of the trees, there was nothing there.
The night grew deeper. The mountain wind howled, setting the pine forest rustling wildly. From time to time, birds beat their wings with a flurry of sound as they flew overhead. Not far away, wisps of will-o'-the-wisp phosphor glow drifted and floated aimlessly on the wind.
Dragging his feet heavily, Zhang Qiang had no idea where he should go. In the blink of an eye, his home was destroyed and his family lost, leaving him alone to wander like a ghost through the dark pine forest.
Lost in his daze, Zhang Qiang stumbled and staggered until he reached the edge of a precipice. Memories of the past resurfaced scene by scene. He recalled the year Tan Yue'e had tried to throw her life away right here, only for him to rescue her—from which moment they had grown close and become secret lovers. He remembered the years he had chased wild wolves, boars, and hares all the way to this spot, successfully capturing them one by one, pulling out their teeth to make strings of necklaces, and giving the finest wolf-tooth necklace to Tan Yue'e.
"Hahahaha..." Suddenly, a hair-raising burst of wild laughter rang out from the edge of the cliff.
The strange laughter, borne on the cold night wind, pierced into Zhang Qiang's ears and made him shiver. But almost immediately, he seemed to realize something—the laughter was so painfully familiar. Could it be her? With that thought, he roused his flagging spirits and ran with all his might toward the direction of the laughter.
Sure enough, when Zhang Qiang reached the spot, he saw a figure swaying gently near the edge of the cliff. Just as he stepped forward to call out, he heard the person speak: "Brother Qiang, wait for me! I'm coming too!"
Recognizing Tan Yue'e's voice without a doubt, Zhang Qiang shouted at the top of his lungs, "Yue'e, what are you doing? I'm right here!"
Just as Tan Yue'e was about to take the fatal plunge, the familiar voice reached her ears, causing her to freeze in her tracks. She rubbed her eyes hard and finally saw him clearly—it was Zhang Qiang! He was actually still alive; he hadn't burned to death!
"Zhang Qiang, you're... still alive!" Shifting instantly from grief to joy, Tan Yue'e cried out in ecstasy and turned to run toward Zhang Qiang.
But before she could reach him, Tan Yue'e slipped, lost her footing, and tumbled over backward, plunging down into the bottomless abyss.