The Chatuizhu Ghostly Wife's Moonlit Lament

The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silver glow over the tranquil village of Chatuizhu. It was a place where the living and the dead seemed to coexist, a silent agreement between the two worlds. The villagers spoke in hushed tones about the ghostly wife who haunted the old Chatuizhu House, her cries echoing through the night as if a sorrowful melody.

In the midst of this eerie tranquility, there lived a young man named Zhiyuan. He was known for his bravery and his keen mind, which had often led him to the edge of danger. Zhiyuan was a hunter by trade, and the villagers would often marvel at his ability to bring back the rarest of game. Yet, there was something about him that set him apart; he was born with a strange birthmark that shimmered with a faint, ghostly light.

One moonlit night, Zhiyuan was out hunting when he stumbled upon the Chatuizhu House. The old, dilapidated building stood alone in the distance, its windows shrouded in darkness. Curiosity got the better of him, and he approached cautiously. The door creaked open as if of its own accord, and Zhiyuan stepped inside.

The interior was just as decrepit as the exterior, but it was the faint glow of lanterns that caught his eye. He followed the light to the back of the house, where he found a woman sitting at a table, her back to him. She was dressed in a flowing white gown, her hair tied back in a loose braid. Her silhouette was hauntingly beautiful, yet there was an air of sadness about her.

"Who are you?" Zhiyuan called out, his voice echoing through the empty room.

The woman turned, revealing a face that was both stunning and sorrowful. "I am the ghostly wife of this house," she replied in a voice that was both tender and haunting. "I have been waiting for someone to come and hear my story."

Zhiyuan sat down across from her, his curiosity piqued. The woman began to speak, her words flowing like a river of sorrow.

"I was once a human, a woman named Hua. I was in love with a man named Xing, who was the son of the house's previous owner. We were to be married, but Xing's father, a greedy and ruthless man, saw me as a way to secure his wealth. He poisoned Xing, and when he died, he framed me for his murder. I was banished from the village and became the ghostly wife of this house."

Zhiyuan listened in horror, his heart aching for Hua. "Why did you wait so long to tell someone your story?" he asked.

"The pain was too great to bear," Hua replied. "But now, I have found someone who listens, someone who cares."

Zhiyuan felt a strange connection to Hua, as if he had known her for years. He began to visit her every night, the two of them sharing stories and dreams. Their bond grew stronger, and Zhiyuan found himself falling deeply in love with the ghostly woman.

One night, as they sat together, Hua spoke of a secret she had kept hidden for all these years. "There is a child, Zhiyuan," she said. "He is the son of Xing and me, and he is still alive. He was taken from me by Xing's father, and I have been searching for him ever since."

Zhiyuan's heart raced with excitement. "We must find him," he declared. "He is our child, and he deserves to know his parents."

The two of them set out on a quest to find the child, traveling through the treacherous mountains and across treacherous rivers. They faced many challenges, but their love for each other kept them going. Finally, they arrived at an ancient temple, where they found the child, a young boy named Xing.

The reunion was emotional, filled with tears and laughter. Zhiyuan and Hua knew that their lives would never be the same, but they were determined to make it better. They returned to the village, where the villagers welcomed them with open arms.

As they settled into their new life, Zhiyuan discovered that the birthmark on his hand was a symbol of his connection to Hua and Xing. It was a reminder of their shared past and their newfound family.

The Chatuizhu House became a place of warmth and love, where the living and the dead could coexist in peace. Zhiyuan and Hua's love story became a legend, one that would be told for generations to come.

The moon continued to hang in the sky, casting its silver glow over the village of Chatuizhu. The ghostly wife's lament had been heard, and her story had found its place in the hearts of the villagers. The legend of the Chatuizhu Ghostly Wife's Moonlit Lament would live on, a testament to the power of love and the enduring connection between the living and the dead.