When the door was closed, Teacher Cheng urged them again and again, instructing Bai Youwei and Shen Mo to take every precaution. He also sent out the fully charged rabbit, just to be safe.

Teacher Cheng had also wanted to send out the severed hand, but Bai Youwei refused.

That hand was far too noisy. It acted like it had boundless restless energy — scratching here, poking there every single day, making the whole room creak and groan. It could only be quieted by shutting it away in the storage room.

Bai Youwei had no desire to be kept awake by it all night.

……

Once the fresh bedding was laid out, they were finally able to lie down and rest properly. If one could ignore the cold, eerie wind and the patter of rain outside the window, and the candlelight that flickered between brightness and shadow, the lodging arranged by the old scholar was actually quite tolerable.

From next door came the occasional sound of voices — mostly Fu Miaoxue’s chatter, with Du Lai occasionally chiming in.

Bai Youwei lay in bed and drowsiness crept over her quickly.

“……What time is it roughly?” she rolled over and forced herself to stay alert enough to ask Shen Mo.

Shen Mo lay beside her. He raised his arm and glanced at his wristwatch — the hour hand had frozen at the moment they entered the game. Ten thirteen.

“Probably around midnight,” Shen Mo estimated.

Bai Youwei thought: so it’s almost midnight. No wonder she felt sleepy — that was perfectly normal…

“Fu Miaoxue is a doll now. I wonder if she gets sleepy too,” Bai Youwei murmured with her eyes closed.

Shen Mo smiled slightly. “You can ask her tomorrow.”

“I won’t bother,” Bai Youwei said, shifting closer into his arms and giving a little huff. “She has such a bad temper.”

The corner of Shen Mo’s mouth curved — he said nothing, but inwardly he thought: *When I first met you, you weren’t all that different from her — you’d go off at the slightest provocation too.*

After a moment of quiet, he heard Bai Youwei murmur softly from within his arms: “But… if I discovered I’d turned into a doll, I’d probably lose my mind too…”

Shen Mo gently stroked her hair. “Go to sleep,” he said in a low voice.

His voice was low and hushed, as if it carried some hypnotic power — and then Bai Youwei truly fell asleep.

……

In the dead of night, she faintly heard someone singing opera.

Yiyi-yaya — she couldn’t make out the words, only that it was bothersome, so she tossed and turned in bed.

But the sound grew louder and louder — mournful and drawn out, full of grief and longing… Each phrase seemed to strike her right in the chest, filling her with a deep discomfort — suffocating, oppressive, impossible to breathe through.

Bai Youwei could finally bear it no longer and opened her eyes.

The room was dim all around. Tree shadows swayed on the window pane. Shen Mo lay quietly beside her.

Bai Youwei furrowed her brow. Something was wrong.

Shen Mo had always been the most alert of all of them. So why was he sleeping so deeply tonight? With the opera singing so loud outside — could he really not hear it?

That thought frightened her a little.

She was not omniscient or all-powerful. Facing an environment as dark and terrifying as this, her heart was inevitably gripped with fear — especially when the man who had always protected her was lying there utterly still and silent. It made her unease all the more acute.

“Shen Mo, Shen Mo…” she softly nudged his arm.

Shen Mo woke quickly.

He opened his eyes and looked at Bai Youwei with a puzzled expression. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

Bai Youwei said, “There’s a sound outside.”

“A sound?” Shen Mo looked confused. He stilled himself and listened carefully for a moment — but all he could hear was the soft, continuous sound of rain.

He asked Bai Youwei, “What kind of sound?”

Bai Youwei was taken aback, and blurted out: “The opera singing is *this* loud — you can’t hear it?”

Shen Mo genuinely could not. He thought for a moment, then climbed out of bed, walked to the door, and pulled it open in one swift motion.

The sound of raindrops splattering became clearer at once, and the mournful, plaintive singing also drifted in, fragmented and intermittent.

“There is a sound, but…” Shen Mo glanced at Bai Youwei and said, “At least in my ears, it’s faint — and it’s coming from far away. Over on the village side.”

—