Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Ziya looked at the scattered pieces of paper and casually picked one up to read.
The paper read: "I have been searching desperately. Why are you doing this to me? Return my child to me."
Furrowing her brows, Ziya thought to herself: Whose child is being returned to whom?
She picked up another sheet and continued reading: "I have come, and the child is gone. Do you think you can just send me away like this? I will haunt you even in death."
As Ziya examined the weathered papers, she couldn't make sense of their meaning. A faded photograph beneath the papers caught her attention, and she picked it up. The photo depicted a family of three—a carefree boy with two seemingly kind parents. Turning the photo over, she saw it was labeled "Li Darwen Family Portrait."
Just as Ziya was processing this, a chilling wind swept through, accompanied by a faint murmuring sound that resembled an old woman's muttering from behind her. Startled, she instinctively shrank her neck. In a place where Ziya couldn't see, a dark figure seemed to stretch out a claw-like hand from the doorway. Just as it was about to touch her shoulder, she turned around.
It turned out to be just the wind blowing in through the window. She approached the window, intending to draw the curtains to block the cold breeze. However, as her fingers brushed against the satin curtains, they crumbled into pieces at her touch, unable to shield her from the chill.
Ziya helplessly gazed outside. In the shadowy trees, a narrow river quietly flowed behind the villa in a surrounding manner. The villa was circular, and from every window, one could see a stretch of river. The path leading in from outside entered right into the center of the river, completely encircling the villa.
As the cold wind brought with it a fine drizzle, Ziya leaned forward to see where the river led. Amidst the patter of raindrops, a figure flickered beneath a cluster of Mao Bamboo and vanished in an instant.
Who could it be? Ziya thought about how someone outside in the rain might get soaked and catch a cold. She hurried downstairs to open the door and see who was out there. Just as she reached the second floor landing, she noticed the lock on the front door twisting incessantly. Startled, Ziya called out loudly, "Who is it?"
As soon as her voice rang out, the twisting of the lock stopped abruptly. But after a few seconds, its movement intensified suddenly, as if someone outside was impatiently trying to get in. Why were they silent? The more Ziya thought about it, the more uneasy she felt. She quickly grabbed a broom from the living room and held it tightly in her hand as she approached the door. Gripping the trembling doorknob firmly, she felt an external force transmitting through it into her palm—was it a person? How could there be such strength? She yanked open the door...
Stepping outside, Ziya found no one at the entrance except for the sound of raindrops pattering on the ground and on top of the Mao Bamboo. Fear crept over her; perhaps someone was playing a prank to scare her. Nevertheless, she stepped out with the broom still clutched tightly in her hand.
On the damp ground, Ziya saw the fallen leaves stuck to the surface after being drenched by the rain. She focused her gaze a bit further and suddenly spotted several children’s figures beneath the nearby Mao Bamboo. Their standing posture was strange, and their faces were terrifyingly pale, devoid of any color, with purple-black blood trickling from the corners of their mouths.
Ziya covered her mouth, unable to look any longer. She hurriedly turned and ran back into the living room, anxiously shutting the door behind her, her heart racing like a deer. Her eyes lingered on the floor of the living room, where a trail of wet footprints extended toward the staircase leading to the second floor.
Ziya pulled out her phone, wanting to call Severe Cold, but there was no signal at all. Since she stepped into this place, she couldn't even send a single text message. Trembling slightly, she thought to herself: Today, I’ll just go for it. If there really are ghosts, I’ll take a picture with my phone. As the saying goes, ghosts fear people seven parts; people fear ghosts three parts. Just as she was contemplating going upstairs to see what was there, the door lock rattled again, accompanied by knocking sounds and shouting.
Listening closely, Ziya realized it was Severe Cold arriving. She quickly walked over and opened the door. Severe Cold's presence gave Ziya an inexplicable sense of security, and she forced a bitter smile.
"Why is your face so pale? Is something wrong?" Severe Cold looked around as he entered and noticed Ziya's unusual complexion, revealing a concerned expression.
"Do you believe in ghosts?" Ziya didn’t directly answer his question but instead looked at him with a face that had calmed down slightly after her fright.
"Ghosts? I don’t really believe in them. Ghosts are just shadows in people's hearts. If there were really ghosts, then when the Japanese invaded China, we Chinese would have turned into ghosts ourselves and could have wiped them out without losing a single soldier. Don’t you think?" Severe Cold's humorous words failed to ease Ziya's tension. She continued to frown as she gazed at the now vanished footprints, feeling it was all too unbelievable.
"I just saw them," Ziya said earnestly, hoping Severe Cold would believe her as she focused intently on his face.
"Saw who?" Severe Cold shook off his umbrella and raised it again as he led Ziya toward their car. They needed to leave quickly before night fell because during rainy seasons, this forest would often be enveloped in a white Mist Veil that would confuse anyone lost within it.
"The children who died here; there are some torn letters in the study upstairs that I just looked at," Ziya said softly. She secretly wished Sun Meng were here; how could they have missed each other? She had clearly mentioned 'Green Country Villa' on the phone.
"You must be seeing things; how could dead children possibly reappear? The letters on the second floor might just be useless scraps of paper that aren't important to the owner at all. This doesn’t help your news publication in any way; what’s so strange about it?" Severe Cold frowned tightly as he stared down the dark path through the forest. A slight Mist Veil drifted from the Moso Bamboo Forest; it seemed thick fog was about to descend.
"It’s real! If you don’t believe me, why don’t you come with me to take a look right now?" Ziya urged as she watched the villa’s shadow becoming increasingly blurred behind them. A layer of white Mist Veil gradually engulfed that floor while they slowly moved their car forward through the encroaching fog.
The white fog thickened, and sitting in the car, Severe Cold could barely see a meter ahead at the plants, all shrouded in a blanket of white. The windshield wipers were activated, swaying back and forth, making a faint squeaking sound as they rubbed against the glass.
"Damn it, we can't move forward," Severe Cold growled.
Comment 0 Comment Count