Suddenly, Sui Chengguo seed to have discovered sothing. He walked alone towards the corner behind the door and quickly returned with a large burlap bag. Previously, this spot had housed scarecrows, which Yang Xiao had checked first thing upon waking. There had been nothing then which ant that the cloth bag had appeared not long before.
After taking the cloth bag from Sui Chengguo’s hands, Yang Xiao observed it closely. There was nothing unusual about the bag itself. Feeling through the bag, he could touch sothing the size of a walnut at the bottom, a hard, stone-like object.
He held the bag open, turned it upside down, and shook it a few tis, yet the stone didn’t fall out. Seeing this, Sui Chengguo reached into the bag to fish it out, but despite his efforts, he couldn’t feel the stone inside. In fact, the bag was empty.
Yang Xiao also reached his hand into it, and a bizarre scene unfolded. He too couldn’t touch anything, yet he could clearly feel the stone inside the bag through the outside of the bag. His outside hand grabbed the stone, and with his hand inside the bag, he felt nothing, not even the presence of his other hand. Inside and outside the bag seed like two different dinsions.
One bag, one universe. Yang Xiao understood then. The couplet was referring to this very bag. Although he didn’t understand the mystery of the stone inside, it had to be extrely important.
The second line of the couplet had been found, so the first line was not hard to guess. Yang Xiao turned to look at the curtain that split the entire temple’s interior space in two. The candle behind the curtain was now extinguished, and it was pitch dark behind it, hiding who knows what.
Yang Xiao walked alone towards the curtain, listening intently for a mont. All was quiet behind the curtain, but just as he mustered the courage to peek through the middle opening of the curtain, a cold breeze swept through the temple, lifting the part of the curtain lying on the floor. The next second, Yang Xiao was overco with numbness as he saw the tips of two shoes beneath the gap of the curtain.
The tips of the shoes were extrely close to Yang Xiao, almost pressing against the filthy curtain, pointing straight towards him.
No longer hesitating, Yang Xiao turned around and led the others out. They pushed open the big door and left as if fleeing. At the mont he looked back while closing the door, Yang Xiao vaguely saw a tall figure erge on the curtain, similar to the scarecrows before, but headless.
After leaving the temple and walking back into the woods, Yang Xiao was still shaken, his mood unable to settle for a long ti. The headless figure seed to have rooted itself in his mind, its shadow appearing every ti he closed his eyes.
When it rains, it pours. They lost their direction in the woods. Cheng Cha tore a piece of his clothing and tied it around a crooked tree as a marker. However, before long, they found themselves back under the sa crooked tree.
"This is not possible. We walked in one direction; there’s no reason we should end up back at the start," Cheng Cha, who had been leading the way, had absolute right to speak about the matter.
Everyone’s expressions darkened. Indeed, the return journey was not going to be easy; they had likely encountered the Ghost Hitting the Wall phenonon.
"Let’s walk it one more ti; this ti, I’ll lead," decided Yang Xiao. They changed direction, but not long after they set out, they heard a series of sobs, intermittent, emanating from the dark depths of the woods, the direction unclear, only the unmistakable sound of a woman.
The woman’s crying was heart-wrenching, like she had suffered great injustice, chilling Yang Xiao and the others to the bone. They tried as much as they could to flee from the direction of the crying, but all was in vain as the crying grew closer and closer.
"Nobody move. Co closer, gather around ," suddenly, Sui Chengguo’s voice sounded off, clearly unnatural.
As the group congregated in the dim woods, Yang Xiao also noticed the problem. He only saw seven silhouettes, himself included, left only eight people in the group.
One was missing.
"It’s Hu Yanming, Hu Yanming is missing!" Liu Haiping suddenly cried out.
After closely confirming each face, indeed, Hu Yanming was missing. Tong Han recalled that he had been there when they first got lost, walking right beside her. She rembered clearly; he had disappeared only recently.
"Should we... should we go back to look for him?" Liu Haiping asked softly.
"No need," Yang Xiao flatly denied. Hu Yanming hadn’t just gotten lost; he had encountered a ghost. In this situation, to disappear was no different from being dead.
At that mont, Mi Shu stepped forward, his face pallid, his speech trembling, "I... I have sothing to say. This place... I think I’ve been here before."
Hearing this, everyone was stunned, "You’ve been here?"
"This place reminds of a mission I once went through, where we also got lost in a forest, and heard crying sounds, a woman... a woman crying. There were seven of us in the team, and four went missing. I was one of the last three survivors."
Pausing for a mont, Mi Shu continued, "There’s another thing, after I... after I drank that bowl of wine, my consciousness beca blurry. In my last bit of mory, it seed like the curtain opposite was slightly lifted, and behind it sat a woman in white with blood streaming from her seven orifices. No, it was... it was a female ghost, the ghost I saw in my Resentful Eye!"
These words instantly triggered Yang Xiao’s mories. He had encountered the sa thing; right before he passed out from drunkenness, he saw a woman in red. After waking up due to the resurrection of Sui Chengguo and his four comrades, he had forgotten about it, but now thinking back, the woman in red might have been the original owner of the Drama Robe.
At the sa ti, he noticed that the expressions of Tong Han, Cheng Cha, and Wuma Haoming had also turned odd—apparently, everyone had similar encounters and had seen the ghost corresponding to their own Resentful Eye.
"In that mission where we got lost in the forest, did you acquire the Resentful Eye?" Sui Chengguo stared at Mi Shu and pressed.
"Yes, it was ." Mi Shu nodded.
"Then do you rember any information about this female ghost, and how we can get out of this cursed place?" Yang Xiao asked the crucial question.
After thinking for a mont, Mi Shu nodded, "This ghost was a pitiful person who was beaten to death by her husband because he wanted to marry another woman. The other woman had demanded not to beco a concubine unless the first wife died, so the man lured this woman into a secluded forest and killed her with rocks. Her resentnt lingered, and that’s how she beca a ghost."
"This ghost kills people by using their crying sounds. She can sense the fear in people’s hearts. Simply put, the more afraid soone is, the more likely she is to target them. According to our analysis back then, she prioritizes killing n, and her thod of killing is smashing their heads with a rock."
"Just tell us what we need to do to get out!" Lu Youcheng urged impatiently, not in the mood to follow the narrative of the story.
Mi Shu signaled him to calm down and explained that the female ghost had restrictions on her kills; they had to get lost once and return to the starting point for the ghost to strike again. For now, as long as they stayed put, the ghost couldn’t kill anyone, but that also ant continuing to be trapped in the Ghost Hitting the Wall.
"We found so clues last ti. To leave this place, we need to overco our fear. Close your eyes; only with your eyes shut can you sense the direction of the crying. Once the direction is confird, walk backwards away from the direction of the crying. Keep walking until the crying fades away—that ans you’ve made it out."
anwhile, Mi Shu sternly emphasized, "Rember, no matter what you encounter or touch along the way, do not be afraid and do not open your eyes, or else you’ll be left behind forever. Back then, soone scread and was imdiately killed by the ghost who smashed their head."
After confirming the details of their action plan several tis, the group began to prepare. At Mi Shu’s command, all eight people closed their eyes. Indeed, once their eyes were shut, the sobbing sounded abruptly clearer. Yang Xiao quickly determined that the crying was coming from the right side. He adjusted his position, turned his back in that direction, and then started to step back towards it.
He moved very slowly, and so did the footsteps around him. Everyone was cautious, each step filled with probing.
Yang Xiao could clearly feel that he was getting closer to the crying sounds. At the sa ti, the crying grew increasingly mournful, a heart-wrenching tone like a giant pair of scissors incessantly slicing at their heartstrings—a torturous ordeal.
Wuma Haoming clenched his eyes shut, terrified, especially by Mi Shu’s statent that the ghost targeted n first. This made him extrely anxious. He was well aware that among the n, only he and Hu Yanming were the weakest, and now that Hu Yanming was dead, the ghost’s next target was almost certainly him.
He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about these things now, but thoughts are hard to control; the more he tried not to think about it, the more such images flooded his mind. He uncontrollably imagined Hu Yanming’s grueso death, his body lying on the ground, the back of his head smashed, his eyes wide open in terror, pupils devoid of any life, while the ghost stood behind a nearby tree, bloodied, holding a jagged rock still dripping with blood, Hu Yanming’s blood.
The more he thought, the more afraid he beca, and the more he tried not to think, the stronger the images beca. If not for the fear of alerting the ghost, Wuma Haoming would have slapped himself. He forced himself to calm down, but the next second, his right foot suddenly stepped on sothing soft, then his body fell backwards, uncontrollably tumbling to the ground.
Luckily, at the last mont, he managed to control himself, kept his eyes shut, and didn’t scream out loud, just clenched his teeth tight.
Groping, he attempted to stand up imdiately—being separated from the group in this environnt was a death wish. But as his hand touched sothing wet, warm, and soft, he froze, his body shaking uncontrollably—he knew it was a body, a fresh, blood-drenched body.
His fingers trembled as they touched a bloody, detached human head, thankfully not touching the massive hole at the back where the brains were exposed.
Wuma Haoming used his hands and feet to retreat, eager to get away from the recently deceased body, but he quickly stopped; his pale face twisted, veins bulging as his left hand landed on a foot—a bony, ice-cold, bare foot.
User Comments
0 comments from readers