Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
“Heavenly Eye is something one is born with; for others, the only way to develop it is through awakening it. However, his situation is different from Heavenly Eye. Based on what he said last night, it seems that his physique connects him to the old house, which in turn activates an ability he already possesses. I had Dong Qing check his Ba Zi, and it aligns well with the old house. Perhaps he is the 'catalyst' my master mentioned back in the day.”
As they traveled towards Song Bunan's home, Xiao Mei asked about every detail regarding this potential ghost encounter, explaining to the driver, Zhang Long, why she was so invested in this person. The temporary driver, who had downed a large cup of coffee to prepare for a night of staying awake, still yawned frequently but managed to keep his mind alert as he glanced at the road and posed questions. Instead of answering each question individually, Xiao Mei provided a general explanation:
“I’ve been going to the old house for over three years now. Aside from those I locked inside, only one house ghost has truly appeared before me, and he never communicates; he merely guides spirits. Last night, he mentioned shadows and mist, which aligns with what Shui Su has talked about. Moreover, my master’s ability to appear and save people indicates that this individual is significant. Shui Su advised me to pay close attention to Song Bunan, at least until he returns.”
After finishing his last sip of coffee, Zhang Long nodded in understanding but suddenly recalled a question: “What’s that kid Shui Su doing out there? It’s been over a year; our boss has been back for quite some time, yet he hasn’t returned.”
Turning to look at Xiao Mei, he noticed that she was still glued to her phone and simply shook her head without saying another word.
After sending a message to Xiao Mei, Song Bunan was about to open the door when he bumped into Song Buxian, who was leaving. The man with the briefcase remarked that he might have to work late tonight before standing by the elevator. After a while without hearing the door close, he turned around just in time to see Song Bunan at the door playing on his phone. Annoyed, he kicked him lightly and said, “Go home and play!”
Sitting on his own sofa while explaining the situation to Xiao Mei, Song Bunan felt that his typing speed had significantly improved tonight. Although recounting the incident with the elderly lady in the elevator didn’t take long, answering all of Xiao Mei’s questions required careful recollection and organization of his thoughts. Especially when explaining how beautiful the hairpin on the old lady's head was, he even drew a diagram.
Looking up at the clock showing nearly midnight, he felt a sense of emptiness in the quiet house without anyone around. He had napped too much in the afternoon and wasn’t tired at all now; instead, his back wound was itching intensely. As Xiao Mei informed him that she would take some time to arrive, Song Bunan decided it would be best to change the dressing on his wound.
These injuries had accompanied him since childhood; even a slight movement could cause them to reopen painfully enough that he could hardly stand straight, robbing him of much of his childhood. The only consolation was that he had developed an immunity to this pain; what once felt like a significant issue now seemed minor. He had also honed his skill in applying medicine himself; using specialized ointment from the hospital made him feel much more comfortable.
After removing his shirt, he began unwrapping the bandages. Perhaps due to nighttime fatigue, it seemed like there were many dirty substances stuck to them. Besides the deep brown color left by medication on the white gauze strips, there were many strange black specks mixed in—like ash from something burned. The strong medicinal scent remained unchanged.
As he placed an alcohol-soaked cotton ball on the first wound, a chill and sting made him shiver as goosebumps spread across his body. Used to this sensation by now, he hummed a tune while cleaning each area thoroughly. However, upon retracting his hand and glancing at the cotton ball, unease washed over him.
The cotton ball was also covered in black ash, and mixed with the scent of alcohol was an odor reminiscent of burnt paper. Discarding it and wiping again yielded more black residue sticking to it. Unable to clearly see how bad his wounds were, he dropped the tweezers and took his phone into the bathroom. Turning on the light and examining his back revealed not only familiar grooves but also dark substances stuck within them.
What annoyed him further was that these were in places difficult for him to clean alone. Gripping his phone tightly while pondering who could help him at this hour yielded no answers; leaving it unattended could lead to infection or inflammation, forcing him to lie flat for half a month again. Reluctantly, he dialed Song Buxian.
Just as Song Buxian arrived at work and received the call from his younger brother, he initially intended to scold him for being such a fool but held back upon hearing it concerned an injury. After asking about the situation briefly, he promised he'd return quickly. Meanwhile, Xin Yi, who had arrived earlier beside him, tossed some documents onto his desk without discussion and strode out decisively: “I’ll go check on him; you handle things here.”
“…” Everything he had just swallowed should have been said directly to you! Grinding his teeth in frustration, Song Buxian called back: “ Xin Yi is going over; you wait for her to let you in.”
After hanging up on his brother's call, Song Bunan gently patted where it was itching and thought it would be better if he put on some clothes first. Just as he grasped his shirt with one hand, there came a knock at the door. Assuming it was Xiao Mei, he walked towards it but just as he reached for the doorknob, his phone rang—displaying that it was indeed Xiao Mei.
Wondering why she would call when she was already there, Song Bunan instinctively peered through the peephole and saw an elderly man standing outside in the dark hallway—the same one he'd seen in the elevator earlier—smiling as he stood there. However, due to the peephole's angle, his expression appeared quite sinister.
That sight genuinely frightened Song Bunan, causing him to step back several paces and hide in a corner as he answered the call. On the other end of the line, Xiao Mei shouted urgently with a changed tone: “Don’t open the door!”
Almost simultaneously, Song Bunan saw the door slowly creak open as cold air rushed inside. He stood at the study door without thinking twice before bolting inside; however, before locking it behind him, that old man stood right before him. The grayish-blue face met him directly; what should have been a warm smile now looked terrifying.
The chilling aura combined with an overwhelming fragrance made Song Bunan’s body go limp as he collapsed onto the floor; everything around him began spinning uncontrollably. In an instant, that old man appeared behind him; coldness seeped into his back through his wound while an excruciating pain surged through him causing all four limbs to convulse uncontrollably. Lying on the floor in a daze as footsteps approached him brought clarity when he recognized that it was Xiao Mei, holding a short stick in her hand—just before everything faded into darkness.
Dreams often come unexpectedly; just moments ago when he'd lost consciousness from pain in his study at home—now here he stood outside his apartment complex feeling nothing at all. The street devoid of streetlights was pitch black—so dark that one couldn’t see their own hand before their face—as behind him their neighborhood slowly vanished into darkness except for one visible trash can nearby.
Unsure of what was happening or how he'd ended up here, Song Bunan attempted to retrace his steps home but heard bells ringing from afar down the street. The sound was clear and crisp; gradually growing louder as someone approached from that direction—a figure moving slowly toward him through darkness could be seen clearly holding a yellow bell that jingled with each step taken.
Just as the newcomer was about ten meters away, the sound of a bell suddenly grew louder. With a clang, it jolted him awake.
Opening his eyes, he found himself still in his study, but the old man beside him had transformed into Xin Yi. He was half cradled by Xin Yi, and aside from the pain in his back, his head felt dizzy and uncomfortable, a vague nausea making him want to vomit but unable to do so.
After drinking a cup of warm water, he felt slightly better. He tried to sit up straight but was lifted instead. Xin Yi's voice was not loud but just enough for him to hear as he spoke softly in his ear, "I went upstairs and saw the door open; the house is in disarray. You were lying at the study door. I called your name and you woke up. Did a thief break in?"
Looking around, he noticed that the room was indeed messy, but upon closer inspection, his phone and belongings were still there. Song Bunan was sprawled on the sofa, while Xin Yi's phone had already dialed 110. Not knowing what had happened after he fainted, he shook his head. "It seems nothing is missing. My parents don't keep cash at home, and the computer is still in the study; it’s just that the living room is a mess. Xin Yi, I don’t think we need to call the police..."
With Xiao Mei not at home and no messages on his phone, involving the police could complicate things for him. Song Bunan grabbed Xin Yi's hand to stop him from making the call and awkwardly changed the subject. " Xin Yi, my back hurts a lot; can you help me take a look?"
Perhaps disturbed by Song Bunan's tear-streaked face from the pain, Xin Yi decided against calling the police; he felt it was more important to tend to Song Bunan's injuries first. The flesh on the boy's back had torn open with more bleeding wounds. Although he wanted to take him to the hospital, Song Bunan refused, lying flat on the ground while sobbing steadily as he raised a pair of tweezers. " Xin Yi, just help me apply some medicine; it’s not a big wound; I don’t need to go to the hospital."
Song Buxian soon returned home, his face cold as he surveyed the room. Taking advantage of Xin Yi's focus on treating Song Bunan's wounds, he stepped outside and pulled down a piece of paper wedged in the fire escape door before tearing it up and tossing it into the trash can.
"He probably fell after burning himself again; nothing seems to be missing from the house, so there's no need to call the police. From now on, let’s try not to work late at night; this fool will definitely get into trouble being home alone."
Comment 0 Comment Count