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墨書 Inktalez
The scene before Song Bunan felt like sitting in a cinema, wearing 3D glasses, and swaying in sync with the plot. He recalled reading somewhere that the appearance of ghosts is frozen at the moment of their death, with different causes leading to various forms. Now, he was under the scrutiny of these spirits, who could see through their own deaths. Most of them seemed to have met tragic ends: some without heads, others with half a face, and some even revealing the white matter of their brains through cracked skulls.
He felt his stomach churn, as if his last meal was about to make a reappearance. The fear he had anticipated did not increase; instead, a wave of nausea washed over him. Xiao Mei, who walked half a step ahead, wore a grim expression and had stopped talking altogether.
In this situation, Song Bunan found it hard to discern what he was supposed to do. He had heard that the formation would fail and cause major problems, and that the Gathering Yin Land needed to be dealt with... It felt like these knowledgeable individuals had set a trap to fool him, an outsider. After all, no matter how impressive it sounded, this so-called Gathering Yin Land and the ghosts should not be like this—standing beside them like welcoming hostesses, almost ready to say "Welcome."
As his mood soured further, Song Bunan wondered why they were tiptoeing around when all they needed to do was head upstairs. He gripped his flashlight tightly and rolled up his sleeves, disregarding whether the ghosts would make way for him. He decided to grab Xiao Mei again and sprint upstairs.
"What are you doing?" This time Xiao Mei broke free from him, scanning the surroundings warily as if fearing something unpleasant might jump out at them. Song Bunan stammered slightly as he rubbed his cold nose and replied, "These ghosts are just standing here like hostesses, not moving or saying anything. I thought we could just run up to the second floor."
Upon hearing this, Xiao Mei looked puzzled and glanced around before blinking in surprise at the situation. Song Bunan shrugged helplessly, suggesting that perhaps things weren't as dire as they claimed; maybe it was just exaggerated over the years.
"Here, take the flashlight," he said. "You can shine it around so I can see what's in this room; I don't need it anymore." He extended his hand with the now-warm flashlight toward her. Xiao Mei hesitated for a moment before looking around again to confirm there was no problem before accepting it. Once the only source of light passed from his hand to hers, Song Bunan smiled with relief and prepared to dash upstairs. But just as he lifted his head to run, a blinding light flashed before him, causing him intense pain that instinctively made him cover his eyes and step back.
"Damn!" Having been taught since childhood that swearing would earn him a slap on the mouth, Song Bunan stumbled and fell to the ground. After removing his glasses and covering his eyes for what felt like an eternity until the pain subsided somewhat, he remembered he could get in trouble for cursing and bit back the rest of his words. However, his eyes felt too sore to open fully, and the eerie silence around him began to induce panic.
If that light had shone on Xiao Mei too, she would have had to react somehow. But during the time he sat on the ground, there were no footsteps or even breathing sounds from her. All he could hear was his own noise as he wiped away tears caused by discomfort while straining to listen for any signs of life around him—still nothing.
"Xiao Mei?" Song Bunan called her name in the same tone he had used earlier but received no reply. When he raised his voice almost into a shriek, only echoes returned from within the room. Unable to see anything clearly, his mind replayed images of those ghosts standing beside them like welcoming hostesses while magnifying their terrifying aspects.
He scrambled up from the ground and wanted to feel around for direction but hesitated to extend his hands for fear of touching something strange. Everything appeared hazy before him; he could only see faint beams of light ahead. Tentatively using his foot to probe in front of him for a path before taking a step forward.
His anxiety peaked at that moment; the oppressive silence heightened his fear even more. Beyond fragments of memories swirling in his mind was concern for where Xiao Mei had gone. She had been just half a step ahead of him moments ago—why was she now so silent? Had she discovered something? Or had she too been blinded by that bright light?
"Xiao Mei! Are your eyes okay? Speak up!!" If he was heading in the right direction, he should reach the staircase soon enough. His cautious progress slowed considerably as he groped forward; there was nothing at his feet while things began coming into clearer view ahead.
Now able to discern rough outlines of objects around him, Song Bunan realized that what lay ahead was definitely not a staircase. Amidst all this confusion, he noticed that those spirits who had been standing beside them were now nowhere to be seen.
Relying on memory from when he last visited this place, Song Bunan took a deep breath and extended his hand to feel rightward as he moved forward cautiously. The darkest shadows belonged to walls; their coldness pierced through him as he touched peeling wallpaper that felt rough against his skin—just enough for him to ascertain where he stood.
The house's layout was peculiar. The front door faced stairs leading up; standing at the entrance on one side was a study room while on the other side was merely a wall adorned with paintings above a table holding vases—a shoe rack stood nearby too. The large open space between them featured tiled flooring arranged in patterns as if designed for gatherings.
Above hung an ornate chandelier adorned with numerous crystal pendants; though he'd never seen it lit up before, its mere appearance suggested it was expensive and beautiful. As for the two corridors flanking the staircase—they led into rooms; there were likely six on each side—but what lay within those rooms was beyond Song Bunan's imagination.
After all, in his dreams those rooms contained various ghosts and monsters or were simply empty spaces.
Now faced with an inexplicable situation where he couldn't analyze what was happening—only knowing that he'd been blinded by that bright light while Xiao Mei had vanished after taking hold of the flashlight—he leaned against the wall in an alert state listening intently for any sounds around him. He still remembered that shadowy figure who had closed the door behind him during his last visit; uncertainty about its identity left him feeling uneasy.
If that shadow were around now, it would surely spell disaster for him. But if the House Ghost could appear, their hopes would be somewhat brighter. Xiao Mei had mentioned that the House Ghost was a half-ghost left behind by his master, a spirit that had already transformed and could discern between good and evil entities. Though its appearance was ugly and terrifying, it was genuinely a good spirit.
However, as his vision fully returned to normal and he put on his glasses to look around, there was no sign of the shadow or the House Ghost or even Xiao Mei. The eerie paintings that had twisted and frightened him during his last visit hung there just as they were, covered in thick layers of dust that obscured what they originally depicted.
Standing next to the first door in the corridor, Song Bunan realized that this house, which had seemed alive before, was now just an ordinary, dilapidated old building. The strange atmosphere from his last visit was completely gone; there was nothing to chill him down to his bones, nor anything that could stealthily close the door behind him.
Indeed, at this moment, Song Bunan could clearly see that the large door opposite the staircase stood wide open, revealing a yard shrouded in darkness due to the clouds obscuring the moon. His flashlight lay abandoned on the ground outside the door, still lonely and untouched.
Last time, the house had felt alive; this time, it seemed he had merely entered an old house.
Had that bright light taken away his forced ability to see spirits? He leaned against the wall helplessly. Or was it possible that everything he saw upon entering this house since dusk had been an illusion? What about Xiao Mei? He had brought him to the study to search for the flashlight; the warmth of their hands when they fled together couldn't possibly be an illusion...
Caught in an inexplicable panic, Song Bunan straightened up and moved forward but stopped again just before reaching the door. He couldn't leave; he needed to understand everything first.
"If those ghosts are illusions, it means I’ve been blinded by something since I walked in. In that case, Xiao Mei must have entered with me, but he also fell into an illusion and didn’t act alongside me. We must have separated after leaving the study—where could he have gone? Where can he go..."
He tightened all his nerves and couldn’t help but start murmuring to himself. A person with no experience in such matters was trembling all over as he paced in circles on the floor, trying to get his brain working to analyze something that might help him.
Outside the door lay a clearly defined safe area; if he could just step out and reach Xiao Mei’s small room, he could wait safely for Zhang Long’s arrival. But given the current situation, he wouldn’t allow himself to step outside.
"I promised Zhang Long I would stick with you," Song Bunan bit his lip, his trembling hands clenched tightly together; the whiteness of his knuckles showed just how hard he was gripping. "I don’t care about whatever Gathering Yin Land needs to be broken or your mission. We came here together; we have to leave together. Your birthday gift is still in my pocket; I must give it to you..."
Determined not to let anything distract him from what he had promised Zhang Long, Song Bunan cleared all thoughts from his mind and focused on what lay ahead. The White Mist Old Man was on the second floor; after all, he was Xiao Mei’s master. Xiao Mei had said he needed to see his master tonight no matter what happened.
So where else could he go but up to the second floor?
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