Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
"Ding Li... Ding Li... Ding Li..." The voice echoed, sometimes distant, sometimes near, like the wind, and more like my grandmother's whispers from my childhood. I stumbled toward the sound, reaching the door, only to find it vanish into thin air.
A cold breeze swept in, jolting me awake. I felt utterly drained, as if all my strength had been siphoned away, my legs heavy like lead. I remembered that they would be returning from town soon.
I wanted to tell Zhu Zhu everything that had happened here, hoping she could help me figure something out. Whether it was to leave this place or to seek a stable internship elsewhere.
But I didn't realize that this would be the last time I spoke to Zhu Zhu on the phone.
Zhu Zhu hadn’t woken up yet; she had stayed up late writing her thesis and sounded exhausted when she said, "Hey, can’t you call me a little later? I just had a wonderful dream!"
"Zhu Zhu, listen to me. Something feels off here."
Her interest piqued immediately at my words. She asked anxiously, "What feels off? Hurry up and tell me!"
I struggled to describe everything I had seen. I stammered, "I keep having hallucinations, seeing some bad things."
Zhu Zhu must have gasped in surprise, feigning shock as she replied, "What? Hallucinations? Did you eat something strange? Like that special soup from Yilan Shan?"
The more I tried to clarify, the more it came out sounding like a dream. "No, it’s just random hallucinations; I'm seeing events I've never experienced."
Zhu Zhu seemed unfazed by my old-fashioned dream narrative and calmly said, "Oh dear! It’s Ghost Month; we’re only halfway through. You’ll have to endure until payday. And didn’t you say they burn Hell Money every day? Maybe you’re just worried about that and it’s causing those weird dreams!"
Zhu Zhu's reasoning wasn’t without merit. As someone who never believed in Demon Gods, stepping into Yilan Shan's home made me feel an eerie atmosphere unlike anything else. Witnessing them secretly burning Hell Money every night undoubtedly added invisible pressure on my psyche.
Perhaps, as Zhu Zhu suggested, it was all just figments of my imagination. In reality, there were no ghosts in this world; it was merely a person repeating an act until it felt real—half-believing and half-doubting.
I don't know if this counts as self-deception, but in order to relax, I went to the kitchen to treat myself and made my favorite egg pancake. Can you whistle? I can do it a little, and I learned it from Ye Liu Yun.
After a few whistles, feeling bored, I ate the egg pancake and prepared to get to work.
Suddenly, a rustling sound of paper caught my attention. I was the only one in the house; what could be making that noise? The relaxed mood I had just a few moments ago was now tense again.
I tiptoed to my bedroom door and saw that the ghost-repelling picture posted by Yilan Shan was about to fall off. It was a portrait of Zhong Kui; she said hanging it here would protect me.
I pressed down on one corner of the picture with my fingertip, but as soon as I let go, it fell. Speechless, I hurried to the study to find some glue to reattach it. Just then, a shadow swept by from behind me. Startled, I turned around and nearly tripped over a stool.
"Who’s there?"
My voice echoed in the room, but there was no response. Cold sweat! Was this a sign of losing my mind? No way; I had to find a way to calm myself down. Otherwise, after staying here for a month, I might end up going insane.
The house was too quiet; even my footsteps and soft breathing sounded so clear. I decided to check on Yang Gang—not because my feelings toward him had changed, but out of curiosity about what he was doing.
Yang Gang! The butcher? I shook my head; he was clearly lying. In my impression, butchers were all burly men. How could someone so lanky possibly be one? Back then, I had questioned it; today, while Yilan Shan wasn’t around, I could go see for myself.
As I reached the door, the previously vanished voice called out again. The sound came from outside. Turning around, I saw nothing but emptiness outside. A strange chill crept up my spine; I refused to believe in superstitions.
I shouted into the void where the voice had called me: "Who are you? Show yourself!"
There was an unsettling feeling—standing still, it felt like something had gripped my ankle. That cold sensation lingered as I looked down… besides an odd bruise on my ankle, there was nothing visible.
However, I could truly feel something moving behind me. No! It couldn’t be; Zhu Zhu just said this was a dream. I pinched my arm hard and suddenly turned around. Initially skeptical, now witnessing it firsthand—there seemed to be an invisible mist taking on a human form. As I screamed, it abruptly merged into the air. Sweat! This was impossible; panic surged through me as I ran—not to check on Yang Gang but seeking help instead.
Unexpectedly, Yang Gang was not there. As I turned to leave, I heard the sound of digging coming from somewhere. Thud, thud—was he farming? No way, who would come here to buy a villa and a farm just to dig?
Should I sneak a peek? Is it a crime to spy? I asked myself, unable to suppress my curiosity, and followed the sound.
I hid in the bushes and caught sight of Yang Gang. He was using a shovel to dig, and a rough outline of a pit was already taking shape. It was square enough to fit a person.
Who was he planning to bury this early in the morning? There were hardly any people around here; those who lived nearby were few and far between. It could be said that the place was deserted.
Yang Gang—Gu Xiaofang! One of them must be dead. Yilan Shan's words about Yang Gang not being a good person seemed true; he intended to bury the already deceased Gu Xiaofang.
The sky was overcast, always shrouded in mist, with gloom filling the entire wilderness. The thin fog spread around me, and if it were any other day, it would have been a perfect time for sleeping in. Yet here I was, inexplicably spying on someone doing something bad, with dew soaking my shoes and clinging to my hair.
In the mist, Yang Gang's face became terrifyingly fierce. He dug into the earth repeatedly, his eyes shooting out a savage glare as he pulled a black bag into the pit and continued to cover it with dirt.
Just then, Yilan Shan and her aunt returned. They were looking for me, calling my name. Perhaps Yang Gang heard them too; he put down his shovel and left the pit.
Ignoring what Yilan Shan and her aunt might think, I rushed over at an unbelievable speed, crouched down in the pit, and opened the black bag to see what was inside.
Comment 0 Comment Count