HPDBC Chapter 4 When I was nine years old, my corpse ran rampant across the mountains and fields.
Chapter 4 When I was nine years old, my corpse ran rampant across the mountains and fields.
The summer sun is lovely.
The teacher was giving a passionate lecture on the platform, and the warm sunlight made many students below drowsy and their eyes glazed over.
"Luo Jinnian, please answer this question."
The boy was in a completely different state from his classmates. He was energetically busy filling in the gaps in yesterday's "urgently withdrawn" manuscript, "Summer, Fireworks, My Corpse."
What the famous director didn't know was that all he could see at the time was the title; the text itself was completely blank.
The glance Luo Jinnian gave him wasn't some kind of suspenseful prank—he genuinely didn't have time to finish writing. This tactic could probably be seen as a variation of the ancient "empty city stratagem."
In the few days since Luo Jinnian transmigrated here, he first spent time figuring out the differences between the entertainment works in this world and those in his previous life, and then browsed through the current works before daring to start writing.
He was able to finish writing "The Little Prince" and "Grandma" by painstakingly crafting each word under the control of a middle-aged woman and while moving between film sets.
Of course, making up for it now can be considered settling the score.
"Luo Jinnian, please answer this question on the blackboard."
This is a math class.
If you call me a slacker in high school, I'll accept it. But in elementary school, please respect us time travelers.
The answer is 16, because...
The math teacher nodded in satisfaction at Luo Jinnian's answer. This kid clearly hadn't been paying attention in class, yet he managed to answer; he must be the type of high-achieving student who secretly studies at night and pretends to be a genius during the day.
Being asked questions in class is uncomfortable, but after the questioning, the class suddenly becomes exceptionally relaxing.
Luo Jinnian was unaware that another teacher had taken a liking to her, and was secretly delighted.
He lowered his head and began writing novels even more recklessly.
The story of *Summer, Fireworks, and My Corpse* takes place in a remote and eerie village. The book's narrative perspective is quite unique—it is told from the viewpoint of a corpse.
"When I was nine years old, my body was scattered all over the mountains and fields."
Luo Jinnian particularly liked this thriller story.
The story begins one summer. The protagonist, "I," is a nine-year-old girl, the same age as Luo Jinnian, named May.
I have two good friends, a brother and sister. The brother's name is Ken, and the sister's name is Yayoi.
That day, my sister Yayoi and I waited under the shade of a tree, while my brother Ken was having a meeting. They were talking about the fireworks festival—something we girls definitely couldn't participate in.
After Ah Jian came to find us, the three of us went home together, where we were greeted by our favorite Green Sister.
Another key character has appeared in the story.
Sister Green is a gentle, kind, and beautiful older sister. She brought back a lot of ice cream from the ice cream factory, and the children all love her.
While they were eating ice cream together, Ken and Yayoi's mother turned on the TV.
A photo of a boy appeared on television; the news reported that another boy had gone missing. A series of disappearances have been occurring in this area recently.
At this moment, Sister Green reminded Ah Jian to be careful—he was so cute, he might get kidnapped.
Ah Jian blushed immediately. He always acted this way in front of Sister Green.
The opening scene creates a typical Japanese summer countryside atmosphere—fireworks festival, ice cream, forest, childhood friends.
However, the missing persons cases reported on television remained a thorn in this idyllic scene. Sister Green's warning, seemingly gentle and caring, actually laid the groundwork for two later developments: first, the truth behind the series of disappearances, and second, Sister Green's special "attention" to Ah Jian.
The older sister's attention to her younger brother is very characteristic of island nations. And the original author, as expected, is indeed Japanese.
After finishing their ice cream, the children went to play in the woods behind their house. Yayoi and I climbed a big tree.
The two girls started chatting quietly.
"Hey? Can't you watch TV while eating in May? In our family, Mom wouldn't get angry about something like that."
"How wonderful! I wish I could be born into the Yayoi family."
"But I wish I had been born into someone else's family..."
I asked Yayoi if she wanted to be born into someone else's family because she couldn't marry Ken.
Yayoi stared at me with wide eyes and nodded dejectedly.
The younger sister likes her older brother. This is revealed in the calm and understated words.
I regretted revealing Yayoi's feelings to her, thinking it was unfair, so I blushed and told her that I also liked Ken.
This is a social logic in the world of children:
If you tell me a secret, I must tell you a secret of equal value in exchange.
Unfortunately, the "I" in the story didn't know that the price of revealing some secrets was something she couldn't bear.
I heard that my good friend also likes my brother.
Yayoi looked at me with a shocked expression.
Just then, Ah Jian walked over from a distance. He had seen Sister Green off and was heading this way.
"Hey—" I called out to him loudly, waving my hand vigorously.
Ah Jian saw me and waved happily. I was very happy.
Then, I was pushed.
Just then, through my thin shirt, I felt a warm little hand on my back. I barely realized it was Yayoi's hand when it suddenly pushed me hard.
I fell down miserably.
I lost my balance and slid off the branch. It was almost like slow motion; the scenery around me flowed slowly upwards. My body slammed hard against a branch, and I heard the sound of my body breaking. My body twisted in a strange direction, and I let out a muffled scream as I continued to fall. One of my favorite slippers fell off mid-air, which saddened me greatly.
Finally, my back slammed into the rock I'd used as a stepping stone. I died.
Dark red blood oozed from my nostrils, ear canals, eyes... from every orifice on my body. The amount was small, but the thought of Ah Jian seeing my face like this made me sad.
This is the most chilling part of the entire book.
The last thought of a nine-year-old girl before she died was not fear or pain, but "I would be sad if someone I like saw me looking ugly."
The most innocent tone describes the most cruel death.
Looking at my corpse, Ah Jian smiled and comforted his sister.
Ah Jian is another kind of bad kid that the author is about to create, a born empty person whose actions are all based on "solving problems" rather than "feeling emotions".
My younger sister, Yayoi, doesn't want the adults to know that I'm dead.
So Ah Jian suggested hiding me. They hid me under a cement slab.
In the evening, my mother was still looking for me. She found Ken and Yayoi's house, and the siblings said that we had separated in the forest.
[Ken and Yayoi, my body hidden in the ditch, and my mother weeping as she searches for me in the forest at night. All were shrouded in darkness.]
The first day of "Summer, Fireworks, My Corpse" has ended.
These delightful village stories unfolded over four days.
It's hard to imagine that Otsuichi was only sixteen years old when he wrote this book.
As an author later hailed as "a new generation of horror novel elites in Japanese literature," Otsuichi's debut work already incorporated the creative essence of Junji Ito, a master of horror manga. Ito, too, was a prodigy who debuted at a young age, publishing his first work, the world-shaking horror short story "Tomie," at the age of twenty-three. It's natural that these two geniuses would share a common creative language.
In thriller stories, whether it's Junji Ito's meticulous and realistic art style or Otsuichi's calm and restrained novelistic language, their creative philosophy is to depict extreme horror or sadness in a calm, almost observational way.
Specifically, no matter how bizarre the events that happen to the people in the story, the onlookers simply watch with extreme calm.
All I can say is that Japanese authors have an incredible talent for writing about the bizarre.
Luo Jinnian copied the story while savoring it. He admitted that he hadn't written it, but he couldn't very well admit it when the work was published and he was interviewed.
Hopefully, no idiot in this world will accuse him of plagiarism—otherwise, Luo Jinnian will prove he didn't plagiarize by plagiarizing even more works.
I'm thirsty.
Little Fatty's deskmate poured him some tea. Ever since the card game yesterday, Little Fatty had become incredibly sensible in front of Luo Jinnian, as if he had grown up overnight.
"Let's go play cards, I'm tired of copying."
You cannot step into the same river twice.
If I could live my life again, making money would be important, and I would also cherish my time in school.
My deskmate was just waiting for this. Everyone outside was waiting to see Brother Luo make a triumphant return, replicating Chen Daozai's feat of winning 37 million with 20 dollars using only three cards.
Despite his large size, he's quite agile.
"Okay, I'll go and call everyone over."