Happy Little Farmer

Yang Fan squeezed into the crowd as well. Holding the ruler and wooden mace in his hands, he cautiously watched the woman at the skewer stall, ready to charge out at any moment.

Or to retreat.

The embroidered shoes stood in front of the stall, seemingly causing the densely packed lumps of flesh to hesitate.

The woman’s expression was no longer lively, now tinged with a hint of confusion.

"What is this thing?"

"Can’t tell... Ah, my head hurts. What is this creature?"

"Can it be eaten?"

"Seems like it can’t... I feel like she might eat us instead."

"Eat us? This ghost thing sure has guts, daring to devour Buddha."

"Are we Buddha?"