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As he stepped outside, he unexpectedly locked eyes with the butler, who had arrived at some point without him noticing. The man, dressed in a deep gray Tang Suit, stood at the kitchen door sharing squid strips with A Yue. Seeing Shi Mo in such a disheveled state left him momentarily stunned, but he quickly approached to inquire how it had happened. The ghostly figure of Xiu Niang had already vanished, and the sky was beginning to brighten, heralding the approach of dawn.
Shi Mo briefly recounted the incident involving Xiu Niang to the butler. The man's reaction indicated that he was already aware of the situation; he merely cast a fleeting glance at A Yue as if to express disapproval before silently taking the medical kit from Shi Mo's hands and instructing him to head into the kitchen.
The iodine applied to his wounds stung sharply, causing Shi Mo to instinctively shrink back, but the butler's hand on his shoulder was like an iron clamp, holding him firmly in place. As the man bent down to carefully bandage his injuries, his breath brushed against Shi Mo's face, breaking the uncomfortable barrier of personal space and making Shi Mo fidget uncomfortably.
A Yue squatted nearby, cradling her face in her hands as she watched the two of them with a look of indescribable joy in her beautiful eyes. Shi Mo tried to divert his gaze from the butler, but in his distracted glances, he noticed a strange dark stain on the man's clothing near the buttons of his Tang Suit.
The stain was a deep brown, hidden within the folds of the fabric, and it was difficult to discern unless one looked closely. Shi Mo's thoughts began to spiral as he pondered what kind of activity could leave such a mark on someone who appeared so immaculate; that deep brown color was uncommon and resembled dried blood in his eyes.
Could it have come from cooking? Shi Mo felt dazed.
After tending to his facial wounds, the sky outside had brightened considerably. Faint strands of golden light began to rise from behind distant mountains in the gray eastern horizon, signaling that a new day was approaching. Unable to suppress a yawn, Shi Mo felt an overwhelming wave of sleepiness wash over him; having rarely stayed up late before, he found himself yearning for rest. If not for the sharp pain in his nose, he would have surely dozed off right there at the kitchen table.
A Yue finished her squid strips and leaned against the door frame with her mouth agape, looking utterly exhausted. Her hair, once meticulously styled, now had several strands fallen out of place. Among them, only the butler appeared lively and alert; his dark eyes sparkled in the daylight, filled with an energy that made Shi Mo envious.
"Go get some sleep," he said as he returned the medical kit to Shi Mo's hands and rolled up his sleeves, ushering both him and A Yue toward the exit. "There won't be any more orders coming in for a while; you two should rest while I clean up."
The night had been busy with orders; he and A Yue had each taken turns delivering them. Though they had managed a few minutes here and there to tidy up the kitchen, it was hardly enough. The room looked as if it had just survived a battle—dirty plates piled haphazardly in the sink and remnants of vegetables stuck on used cutting boards. The only clean area was where he had cooked, yet even there sat a pan that still needed washing after preparing their last dish.
Shi Mo felt somewhat guilty; this was supposed to be his responsibility, and now being told to rest filled him with remorse. A Yue seemed delighted by this arrangement; after bidding them farewell with a bounce in her step, she skipped away. Shi Mo set down the medical kit and insisted that this was part of his job and that he couldn't let her handle everything alone. However, before he could finish speaking, the butler grabbed him by the collar as if lifting a plastic bag and tossed him out of the kitchen.
"This little task is also a break for me. Goodnight," said the butler with a smile as he firmly shut the door behind him without giving Shi Mo a chance to respond.
Realizing that this wasn't just a joke, Shi Mo accepted this arrangement. Once back in his room, he didn't want to do anything else and simply crawled into bed. The fatigue from staying up all night overwhelmed him so much that he fell into a deep sleep without even charging his phone or washing up.
However, what troubled Shi Mo was that he began to dream. In his dream, he found himself standing alone in an elevator where he couldn't control the floor buttons. Leaning against a corner, he watched helplessly as the numbers on the screen fluctuated wildly until they dropped lower and lower until reaching zero. The sensation of plummeting was vividly clear; an inexplicable panic enveloped him as he clutched tightly onto the handrail.
Strangely enough, deep down inside, he knew it was just a dream. No matter how real everything seemed around him, he could confidently affirm that this was merely a dreamscape rather than reality. As the number finally flickered to zero before slowly transforming into -1, just as it came to a halt, the elevator doors began to open slowly.
The scene outside was a brief glimpse of the Sixteenth Floor seen during the day, but this time there were no boxes on the ground, only countless neatly arranged rectangular stone pillars extending into the distance, all identical in size and shape. The space here was also rectangular; he stood at the end, and before him, the stone pillars stretched out in a zigzag pattern, disappearing into the horizon.
Each deep gray stone pillar held a metal ornament. Shi Mo leaned closer to take a look and discovered that the ornament was an oil lamp. The oil basin, marked with green rust, stood about five centimeters high and had a circular ring inside to secure the wick. The stand was crafted in the shape of a crane, its neck arched and wings poised as if ready to take flight.
The first lamp Shi Mo observed was nearly overflowing with oil, its flame dancing at the crane's neck. As he approached, it flickered wildly, causing Shi Mo's eyes to momentarily blur. He turned to examine the lamp on the adjacent pillar; that one was nearly extinguished, and the crane's posture had become limp, its head drooping as if exhausted, with its wings folded away.
As Shi Mo looked further ahead, he could confirm that many of the lamps were in a state of fatigue; the illuminated cranes all hung their heads low and appeared listless. The majority were already extinguished, their necks bent almost at a right angle into the oil basin, wings helplessly drooping at their sides as if they had been left there after death.
The sight of these extinguished lamps sent a chill down Shi Mo's spine. A strange feeling arose from deep within him; it seemed as though these cranes had not been deliberately posed in such a manner but had instead transformed into this state as their lamps flickered out. The stone pillars served as both their support and their prison.
There were no additional light sources around; only the faint glow of the lamps allowed Shi Mo to observe this place. He dared not venture deeper and turned back after reaching the third row, choosing to explore around the lamp that burned brightest in the center.
The ground beneath him was likely made of cement—rough yet flat—though it appeared entirely dark and devoid of detail. Behind him stood an elevator door isolated in darkness, firmly lodged within an invisible black wall; since he had exited, it had not opened again. The walls on either side were places he could not reach; no matter how he approached that darkness, it seemed to recede in tandem with him.
Shi Mo ultimately decided to stand closest to the elevator door so that he could sprint back at any sign of movement. The silver metal frame of the door and its cold surface reflected the firelight, yet it still felt like his safest refuge.
But the silence around him was terrifying; he could hear nothing at all. Shi Mo attempted to speak, but no matter how hard he tried, not even a whisper escaped his lips. He couldn't even be sure if he was still breathing; when he touched his chest, it felt stiff and cold—like the wall behind him.
After waiting for what felt like an eternity without any sign of movement, Shi Mo returned to the lamp once more, this time focusing all his attention on it.
The crane was exquisitely crafted; despite being corroded by rust, he could still discern every detail—the texture of each feather on its wings was clear enough to touch. Shi Mo ran his fingers over every detail of the oil lamp; despite the flame burning above it, the metal felt cold enough to numb his fingertips.
On the side of the oil basin that lay beyond the reach of light, he felt three engraved characters. Leaning closer and shifting angles repeatedly for a better view, he finally managed to see what was inscribed there with an awkward twist.
Tang Guo'er.
It was a name one might expect from a little girl.
Shi Mo was a troublemaker in school, only half-listening during Chinese class, and now he couldn't make sense of the meaning behind the oil lamp engraved with names, no matter how hard he tried. He believed that other oil lamps must have similar inscriptions, so he reached out to touch the wilted lamp. Indeed, it had characters carved into it, but rust obscured most of the text, making it impossible for him to decipher.
The lamp labeled Silent Crane had its inscription scratched out, and when he touched it, he felt distinct horizontal marks. With the light from a nearby lamp, he could vaguely make out some strokes that resembled writing.
This discovery filled Shi Mo with excitement. He mustered his courage and slowly walked over to touch the lamps behind him. His fear was dissipated by curiosity; he didn’t care that darkness enveloped the path ahead—he just wanted to explore how many names were left behind here.
He even found foreign names inscribed in elegant script on a Silent Crane lamp, but the oil basin was completely empty. Unlike the other scratched-out Silent Crane names, this one only had a faint line beneath it, almost like an annotation.
Was there someone who had a habit of collecting names? Shi Mo's excitement began to wane; after all, aimlessly searching became tedious after a while, especially since all the names belonged to people he didn’t recognize. Moreover, he noticed that the lamps around him were growing fewer in number, with some areas having only Silent Crane lamps in two or three consecutive rows.
Standing before the lamp with the foreign name, Shi Mo found himself between the wilted lamp he had touched on the left and another untouched Silent Crane lamp on the right. His curiosity had nearly faded away; although fear hadn’t returned fully, it lurked at the back of his mind. Taking a deep breath, he decided to turn back and look for a way to open the elevator.
However, as he turned around, he froze in place. The breath he hadn’t exhaled felt trapped in his chest; his limbs grew numb and his mind blanked out. A chill crawled up his spine to the top of his head, making his hair stand on end.
Before him was not the expected stone pillar but a spiraling passage twisted by some unknown force. The stone pillars he had passed were now scattered around him like fragments of debris, resembling eyes that were fixated on him. At the end of the passage loomed a crimson eye devoid of pupils.
Shi Mo realized that this eye's gaze felt identical to what he had experienced in his bedroom—yet it was more oppressive and menacing. Despite lacking a pupil, it seemed to bore into him intensely. Panic overwhelmed him; his mind screamed for him to hide behind one of the stone pillars, but his rigid body refused to move an inch.
Cold sweat trickled down from his forehead along his temples and across his face, leaving him parched and racing with heartbeats as he trembled uncontrollably. In that moment of eye contact with the red eye, all Shi Mo could do was pray—he prayed for an elevator to miraculously appear and take him away; anything would be better than enduring nightmares here.
But instead of an elevator arriving, what came next was the eye blinking. The grayish eyelid slowly descended over the Red Eye, momentarily obscuring it before three stone pillars rose from within the passage. The lamps atop them blazed fiercely, illuminating their surroundings with flickering flames that cast eerie shadows as the Red Eye reappeared behind them.
Shi Mo suddenly thought of a Devilfish lurking in the deep sea, its luminous appendages attracting prey before striking. He dared not move; instead, he stood frozen in place facing the Red Eye, terrified that beneath it lay a gaping maw ready to devour him.
“Shasha—” A sudden sound broke through the silence, causing Shi Mo to shudder involuntarily as he instinctively looked toward its source. Something darker than darkness flashed past him—a mass that resembled slime rolled across the ground with an unsettling Shasha sound. It moved at an alarming speed; just moments ago Shi Mo had seen it rolling to his left, and now it was above him.
The pressure from the Red Eye combined with the torment brought by the slime pushed Shi Mo to near collapse. He clenched his fists tightly and repeatedly told himself that he needed to wake up; all thoughts vanished from his mind except for one desperate cry: he needed to wake up!
Suddenly, the sound of Shasha quickly approached him from behind. Shi Mo felt a chill run down his spine, his hair standing on end. He wanted to run but found himself unable to move. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out; it felt as if a lump of cotton was lodged in his throat.
A cold sensation crept over his back, and he couldn’t turn around. Gritting his teeth, he shut his eyes tightly, preparing to endure the impending fear. Something that resembled a hand, yet was soft and formless, soon rested on his shoulder. It exuded no warmth, only a chilling cold that pierced through to his bones.
That thing suddenly exerted force, pushing him toward three stone pillars. Shi Mo stumbled forward and fell to the ground, nearly colliding with the pillar with his nose. Still shaken, he dared not move much, curling up to regain some sense of control over his body, terrified that the thing would ensnare him again.
Shi Mo tightly hugged his head with his hands, wishing he could glue his knees and elbows together. The sound of Shasha did not reappear; the surroundings returned to an oppressive silence. The feeling of being watched by those eyes lingered, even more intense than before. It seemed to want to see right through him, releasing an inexplicable rage without any concealment.
The icy floor felt like the interior of a freezer, the penetrating cold deepening his shivers. Shi Mo could hardly distinguish whether he was cold or scared; his teeth chattered incessantly, the clattering echoing in his skull and driving him to the brink of despair.
What kind of nightmare lasts this long without giving him a chance to wake up? His prayers turned into disappointment, and the frustration bubbled up into anger, making Shi Mo unable to help but complain and even start to hate dreaming. He cursed the absurdity of this place and wished that the eye watching him would be blinded by a steel needle. He also cursed that strange thing would turn into a puddle of mud and disappear from all worlds.
Just as the curses formed in his mind, the feeling of being watched vanished abruptly, replaced by a sudden sensation of falling. The weightlessness startled Shi Mo awake in an instant.
He opened his eyes to find himself in his bedroom. Sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains, shining directly on his face. Shi Mo's heart raced; his limbs were cold and breathing rapid. He grabbed a pillowcase to wipe his face and realized he had been crying without knowing when.
The torment of the nightmare left Shi Mo unwilling to sleep again, yet he was filled with questions about the oil lamp inscribed with names. Deciding it best to get up and take a shower to calm himself down, he stood under the warm water as it washed over him. Gradually, his heartbeat returned to normal, allowing him to feel relaxed and comfortable.
He should ask the butler about it.
Shi Mo exhaled water from his mouth, convinced that the butler must know something about this matter.
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