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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 094: Dead Loop (Part Two)
Supernatural growth was happening to me; the time, the events, and the people around me were all incredibly bizarre.
To me, leaving Ma Wu Funeral Home felt like it had only been a couple of nights, but I hadn’t seen Chi Xinrong or the others for several nights. This was absurd; how could I have been gone for so long? I looked at Mi, and she was looking back at me.
She was completely clean, without a speck of dust on her. There was no sign of fatigue, helplessness, or the weariness that comes from experiencing life and death.
What a strange situation this was; I decided not to dwell on it for now. I just wanted to rest quietly, clear my mind of the chaotic thoughts and the strange occurrences that had happened. As soon as I closed my eyes, I fell into a dream, surrounded by darkness.
Strangely enough, I was holding a candle. Without needing to look, I knew where the candle came from; it was made from special materials, not your ordinary candle.
I wasn’t sure how the candle ended up in my hand, but I lit it. The light from the candle was very dim, yet it illuminated my surroundings. Black gauze funeral wreaths, extinguished white candles, a coffin, and flower wreaths placed around it.
This was clearly a funeral parlor. I raised the candle high and approached the portrait to see who was depicted—suddenly! The candle extinguished silently as I brought it closer to the portrait. It felt as if an unseen mouth blew out the flame; the flickering light leaped toward me, followed by a cold wind brushing across my face—so real that I instinctively reached up to touch my face while still gripping the candle.
This candle was no ordinary one; it had been used by my grandfather years ago as a tool for spiritual testing and was particularly sensitive to Yin energy. Before I could even light it again, I heard creaking sounds coming from the coffin. I wasn’t afraid of ghosts; what scared me were Zha Shi.
Zha Shi were no joke. In my daze, my lighter wouldn’t ignite. A chill seeped into my pores as the noises from the coffin grew louder, making my skin crawl with goosebumps. My legs trembled slightly when suddenly a hand slowly reached out toward me. I heard fragmented words that seemed to whisper right in my ear.
“Help me…”
With a loud click, the lighter finally sparked to life. I hurriedly lit the candle; everything around me remained dark. The coffin stood undisturbed while on the back of the portrait were blood-red words: “Help me.” The scrawled letters were jagged and terrifying enough to make me scream and wake up abruptly.
The car was still speeding along what felt like a highway; everything outside flashed by in a blur. “Brother Qi, did you have a nightmare?” Han Mi asked nervously as she noticed my drenched forehead.
“Yeah.” I wiped away the sweat, feeling dizzy. Looking over at Fatty who had his mouth open drooling in his sleep—it seemed he had taken over my old spot in the car like it was a cradle. Now he too had learned how to enjoy this comfort. I glanced at Fatty and then asked Mi, “What time is it? How much longer until we get home?”
Mi checked the time on her phone and replied, "It's three o'clock. We still have an hour and a half until we get home."
"Has that Qin Ye come to the shop lately?"
"No, I heard from Fat Brother that he seems to have gone to Ten-Mile Temple."
"Oh." I continued to lean back in my chair with my eyes closed.
After a moment of silence, Chi Xinrong suddenly asked, "Ma Qi, did you just have a nightmare?" The passenger seat was filled with a bag that looked stuffed, probably containing her personal belongings.
"Yes, I had a nightmare."
"Can you share your nightmare with us?"
Mi looked at me, and I smiled at Chi Xinrong. "There's no need. My nightmare is quite terrifying; you wouldn't want to hear it."
"It's fine, I want to hear it. I'm curious if it has anything to do with Chiang." Chi Xinrong was so direct; how could she connect my nightmare to her brother? Given how concerned she seemed about Chiang, she must have already moved into Chi Ruiqiang's house.
"Well, it’s related and yet not related." Under the anticipation of the two girls, I slowly began to recount the scene from my nightmare.
"Was the person in the portrait Chiang?"
"I couldn't see clearly."
Han Mi chimed in with a question, "Could it be a third person?"
"Why is it the third one? Why not the second?" I had also thought of the third one because in the dream, the blood on the Portrait and the words of the dead seemed to be hinting at something.
Unfortunately, I couldn't see clearly. I wished I could fall back asleep and return to that dream to see who was on the Portrait. The problem was that my mind was particularly clear right now as the car exited the ring road and headed straight for a nearby supermarket.
This supermarket was quite famous in A City—Hongqiao Supermarket.
For wealthy people, this place was a shopping paradise, while for me, it felt like a battleground between nobility and poverty. Chi Xinrong parked the car at Hongqiao Supermarket and got out, urging me to go buy a piece of clothing from a men's store.
"Forget it, I have no money. Buying clothes is pointless; if you feel sorry for me, just buy me some food," I said. Upon hearing "food," the chubby guy jumped up with both hands raised in approval, eager to help with the purchase.
Thus, without consulting me, they divided tasks.
Chi Xinrong and Han Mi went to buy me clothes.
The chubby guy went to buy food.
I sat alone in the car, doing nothing and unable to get out because I was too dirty, dressed in ragged clothes like a beggar.
It was strange; after everything we had been through together, Mi looked spotless and refreshed.
Resting my head on my hand against the car window, I noticed a girl in a white dress standing quietly beneath the eighteenth billboard.
She held a doll in her arms, her expression melancholic as she gazed intently in one direction. Following her gaze, I looked over to see an apartment complex across the street with people coming in and out.
I wondered who she was waiting for or watching. When I turned back to look at her again, she had already vanished.
Soon, Fatty brought a fragrant skewer onto the car, munching away as he walked, making loud smacking sounds that made my mouth water uncontrollably. Unable to resist, I reached out and snatched it from him, diving right in.
The skewer was colorful, aromatic, and deliciously spicy, numbing, and hot. Watching Fatty devour one skewer after another, I couldn't help but think he didn't care about the risk of making his hemorrhoids bleed.
"Brother Qi, have you heard the story about Hongqiao Supermarket?" It was rare for this guy to take a break from eating to ask something like that.
I was focused on the skewer in my hand and wasn't interested in his question. I casually replied, "What story?" I stole a glance at him as he chewed furiously, looking so greedy that he seemed ready to suck on his fingers one by one.
"I heard from Rongrong that two years ago, under that electric pole, a girl was crushed to death. At first, she wasn't dead; she was just knocked down by a car. Maybe she was too scared or in too much pain to get up in time. Many people passed by, but no one helped her. Then a second car came and ran right over her. A tragedy that shouldn't have happened occurred—the girl died."
I shook my head; the skewer was too delicious. I didn't find Fatty's story strange—people die all the time, right? Everyone who is born eventually dies; it's not surprising at all. My mind was completely on the skewer, and I ignored the implications of Fatty's story and didn't look at Mi and Chi Xinrong, who had already come back with clothes.
"Brother Qi, Rongrong suspects that Chiang is related to the girl," Fatty said, startling me so much that I swallowed the skewer whole. Damn it, I almost choked to death.
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