Legends of Building 146

According to local legend, the village once suffered from severe water shortages, especially during years of great drought. The village's two dominant clans at the time, the Wangs and the Jins, engaged in a bloody feud over water rights that left dozens dead or injured. From that day on, the two families became sworn enemies through generations, vowing never to intermarry.

Roughly six to seven centuries ago, or perhaps even earlier, an out-of-towner bearing the surname Lou—respectfully referred to as Master Lou—came to the area. Finding the geomantic omen favorable, he decided to relocate and settle there.

Master Lou was fabulously wealthy. He purchased a vast expanse of land from both the Wang and Jin families, constructed his residence upon it, and invested a colossal fortune into digging a well—the very same ancient well of the Lou family.

Tradition has it that hundreds of workers were hired to dig the well and construct the estate. After several years of labor, a grand courtyard flanked by dozens of magnificent two-story buildings was completed, known as the ancient Lou courtyard. Yet, even when the well reached a depth of ten meters—having consumed tens of thousands of silver taels, by all accounts—not a single drop of water was found.

Many urged Master Lou to give up, arguing that digging further would be utterly futile, and that even if water were somehow struck, drawing it up from such an incredible depth would pose an immense challenge.

However, Master Lou stubbornly insisted, "There is a spring vein beneath us. Once we break through to it, the water will gush up of its own accord."

Since Master Lou paid generous wages to his laborers, the villagers were more than happy to keep digging for a steady income.

Legend says that the silver Master Lou spent on the well supported thousands of villagers across dozens of neighboring settlements. Furthermore, at least several dozen households grew wealthy enough to pack up and move to the city. Consequently, many considered Master Lou hopelessly stubborn, and some even deemed him a fool. With such a vast fortune, why choose to live in such a harsh and impoverished mountainous region instead of enjoying a comfortable life in the city?

After eight exhausting years, Master Lou still had found no water, as solid, impenetrable granite blocked any further descent. By this time, the mouth of the well was lined with neatly cut stones, and Master Lou's wealth was nearly exhausted. The villagers openly mocked him as a fool.

The Lou family was driven to the brink of utter ruin. Desperate to fund the continuation of the well-digging, Master Lou prepared to sell his beautiful daughter as a concubine to a wealthy man. Overwhelmed by despair, the young maiden threw herself straight into the well.

With a deafening crash, onlookers assumed she had surely been dashed to death. Yet, moments later, with a thunderous roar, her body vanished, replaced by a gushing surge of spring water that instantly filled the well to the brim.

To honor and remember his daughter, Master Lou commissioned artisans to carve a stone statue of her, which was erected right beside the wellhead.

Not long after the Lou well was completed, the region was struck by a once-in-a-century drought. The village streams dried up entirely, leaving the nearby inhabitants with nothing to drink. The well dug by Master Lou ended up saving countless lives.

At first, drawing water from the well was completely free, open to anyone without restriction. Naturally, the crowds grew overwhelming; the resulting congestion led to wasted water and frequent brawls.

Hardened by necessity, Master Lou made a ruthless decision to implement a fee: "Ten copper coins per load of water, while the elderly and children may draw it for free."

With this rule in place, the number of people coming for water plummeted. Unless driven by absolute desperation, no one wanted to pay hard-earned money for water. As a result, the villagers began cursing Master Lou as a "skin-flint Lou" and a "miser," declaring that anyone who would charge for well water must have gone completely mad with greed.

The regulation requiring payment for the Lou well was passed down through the generations. Centuries drifted by, until a much later era...

Certain individuals lodged accusations against the Lou family, claiming they had exploited people in the past. During the severe drought when everyone lacked water and was on the brink of death from thirst, charging money for water from their well was described as an unpardonable act of exploitation. They asserted that the family's entire fortune had been amassed through such exploitation and demanded that their wealth be returned to the community.

Many villagers, long harboring bitter envy toward the Lou family's estate, readily supported the claim. Consequently, several hundred neighboring villagers swarmed into the Lou residence to loot and divide the property.

In the years leading up to this event, the Lou family's lineage had already begun to wane. The household consisted only of a sickly young master, his younger sister, and a beautiful aunt.

Hoping to bring good fortune and reverse their declining fate through a wedding, the aunt arranged a marriage for the young master, taking in a lovely young bride—the young mistress of the Lou family. However, shortly after her arrival, her husband, the young master, fell ill and passed away.

At that critical juncture, the Lou household was left primarily with three stunning women: the young mistress, the young master's aunt, and his younger sister. The young mistress's dowry maid had already been sent away by the young mistress herself.

As the villagers carved up the Lou estate, several local ruffians and scoundrels sought to seize the opportunity to bully and harass the defenseless women.

Refusing to submit to such humiliation, the three Lou women chose to leap into the well together, committing suicide. After they cast themselves into the depths, their bodies were never recovered. The villagers guessed that they either sank to the bottom or that the well connected to an underground river, sweeping their remains away into oblivion.

Although a few villagers felt a twinge of sympathy for the tragedy that befell the Lou family, the complete disappearance of its members meant there was no one left to hold them accountable for plundering the estate.

When Granny Lou eventually returned, every single member of the Lou family was already dead. This Granny Lou was none other than the very same dowry maid who had once served the young mistress.

Later on, rumor had it that after the villagers divided the stolen wealth, several of the local rogues met their ends inside the well one by one. Some slipped and fell, others tumbled in while heavily intoxicated, and a few inexplicably jumped in of their own accord. Unlike the women, however, whenever these men drowned, their bodies invariably floated back to the surface.

Because too many lives had been claimed by the waters, the villagers came to call it the Corpse-Haunted Well.

Shrouded in an aura of eerie terror, whispers spread that the wronged spirits of the Lou family had returned to claim lives. Many of the villagers who had taken a share of the looted property harbored guilty consciences.

With so many deaths associated with the well, no one dared to drink its water any longer. Ultimately, the villagers resolved to seal the wellhead with thick wooden planks and hired a Daoist priest to perform rituals, inscribing ghost-suppressing talismans upon the wood.

This measure served a dual purpose: first, to prevent anyone from accidentally tumbling into the well; and second, to grant the villagers peace of mind, believing that with the wellhead sealed, the malicious spirits trapped inside could no longer emerge to harm the living.

As for Granny Lou—the former dowry maid of the young mistress—she remained behind, living in utter solitude to guard the sprawling Lou courtyard.

By the time I finished recounting this tale, Sister Yang was clutching my arm tightly in fright, her eyes wide with terror as she stammered, "How do you know all this? Is it true?"

"It is true if you choose to believe it, and false if you do not," I replied. "Now, would you like to go and take a look at the Corpse-Haunted Well?"

Completely shaken by my ghost story, Sister Yang asked foolishly, "Are there really ghosts down there?"

I chuckled and said, "How would I know? I've certainly never seen a ghost myself. Yet, some things are so profoundly bizarre that they defy rational explanation."

"You've scared me so badly that I'll be terrified at night from now on," Sister Yang complained. "You'll just have to stay and keep me company every single night."

"Every single night? Aren't you being a bit too greedy?" I teased.

"Who told you to scare me with a ghost story in the first place?" she grumbled defiantly.

I smiled, "Well, since you know it's just a story, why are you still so frightened?"