Every night upon entering Shifang Mountain brought lengthy nightmares that finally kneaded into black and merged into darkness. In his dreams, Li Si actually thought—this is my dream, isn’t it? But when will I wake up?
Where there are dreams, there is a moment of awakening, but this moment was not pleasant. The torment of nightmares made Li Si feel as if his skull was tearing apart upon waking. Li Si touched the Purple Dream Creeper beside him. When would he be able to have a good dream? Li Si ate the remaining half of a green fruit. Bian Kui also got up, muttering and grumbling. Li Si discussed with him—Li Si would guard the front of the stone platform, while Bian Kui would remain beside the ancient well.
Bian Kui was very satisfied: “Guarding the ancient well is good. When I’m tired, I can still lean against the ancient tree. It’s settled then.”
“Be careful,” Li Si walked to the front.
Wind rose in the deep night. In the dark, obscure darkness, there seemed to be a trace of intermittent, sorrowful sound, as if weeping and complaining. Li Si couldn’t help wanting to hear more clearly. Suddenly, a deathly pale hand slapped onto his back.
Li Si shuddered violently and turned around abruptly, only to see the bewildered and innocent A’Mu.
“A’Mu, how is it you?” Li Si relaxed his tense heart.
A’Mu stared at Li Si and said apologetically: “I frightened you.”
“No, I’m not so easily frightened.” Li Si naturally wouldn’t admit it—wouldn’t admit it even if beaten to death. Li Si calmed his emotions and said: “Aren’t you sleepy?”
A’Mu gently shook her head: “At night, only I was sleeping. I’ve already slept enough.”
“Mm.” Li Si didn’t know what else to say to the young girl. Not far away, Mi Ta was sleeping soundly.
Seeing Li Si no longer speak, A’Mu spoke first: “Your name is Li Si, right? It’s a good name. People with good names are all quite good.”
Li Si was somewhat confused by A’Mu’s “quite good, quite good” and didn’t know how to respond, so he could only smile.
“Li Si, you’re different from them. You’re a little bit like me.” A’Mu said this out of nowhere. Li Si looked at the young girl and for the first time discovered that A’Mu’s deep eyes were like two pools of azure deep springs—cold, clear, and bright. Li Si couldn’t help asking curiously: “In what way am I a little bit like you?”
A’Mu answered softly: “Loneliness.”
“You’re lonely like me. Even though there are many people around you, no one can walk into your heart. Or rather, your heart has never opened to anyone.” A’Mu’s words made Li Si’s emotions catch. Li Si quietly drew in a breath: “Perhaps. But A’Mu, who in this world isn’t lonely?”
“I don’t know,” A’Mu said.
The two people fell into a moment of silence. A’Mu stretched and said: “I’m going to sleep now. I hope to have a good dream.”
“Sweet dreams,” Li Si said.
In the distance, Bian Kui waved his hand, indicating he had seen A’Mu getting up. Li Si thought to himself that A’Mu was an interesting little girl, but was she really here to find her father? Every single person who entered Shifang Mountain seemed to have heavy thoughts on their mind—Gongyang Yan, Uncle Chang, Mi Ta, A’Mu, and that strange Fat Daoist. Every person was hiding secrets, weren’t they?
Interrupted by A’Mu, those sorrowful sounds from before seemed impossible to hear anymore. Everything around was very quiet. Even the wind was gone. It was too quiet—so much so that Li Si could hear the sound of someone swinging their legs at the rim of the ancient well. Li Si turned back to look. He thought it must certainly be Bian Kui, but Li Si was wrong. The person sitting on the rim of the ancient well swinging both legs was not Bian Kui at all, but rather the already dead and buried… Uncle Chang!
Good heavens, what had happened?
Li Si didn’t believe in ghosts and spirits, but the scene before his eyes seemed too bizarre for Li Si to immediately think of a reasonable explanation. Could it be that Uncle Chang wasn’t dead? Just as Li Si approached the ancient well, Uncle Chang’s corpse, bearing an eerie smile, leaned forward and crashed to the ground. Li Si turned over the corpse. No heartbeat, no pulse—even the blood had already frozen. Uncle Chang’s soul had long since entered the Yellow Springs.
Uncle Chang was dead, so someone must have dug up his corpse and placed it on the well’s rim. Who was this person? Li Si immediately thought of Bian Kui. But he couldn’t see any trace of Bian Kui. Where had he gone again?
“Bian Kui, Bian Kui…” Li Si only called out twice before stopping, because he had already seen Bian Kui. More precisely, he had discovered Bian Kui’s corpse. Beneath the two towering ancient trees, Bian Kui leaned slanted against the back of a tree. On his neck was a row of bloody wounds, fresh blood gurgling out ceaselessly. His manner of death and cause of death were identical to Uncle Chang’s. Bian Kui’s eyeballs bulged furiously, as if before death he had seen something that made his hair stand on end. The final expression that remained was one of shocked, dispirited terror.
The blood was still warm. Bian Kui had died not long ago. The Purple Dream Creepers beside him were covered in bloodstains, becoming crimson red and piercing to the eye. Li Si suddenly looked around the ancient trees. Apart from suffocating darkness, there was nothing else. Looking back at the stone platform, just now the Fat Daoist, Gongyang Yan, Mi Ta, and A’Mu had all been sleeping on the stone platform—he had seen it with his own eyes. In other words, the murderer who killed Bian Kui and Uncle Chang was not among their group of seven… There was an eighth person in Fuwa Village! Or rather, it wasn’t a person at all.
“He’s dead!” A voice came from behind. The others gathered over. The shouts looking for Bian Kui had awakened several people.
Gongyang Yan’s eyelids twitched directly. He bit his lips tightly: “Another one dead! Uncle Chang… why is he here too?”
The Fat Daoist also looked astonished. Li Si said quietly: “I don’t know who moved Uncle Chang’s corpse back here again.”
Mi Ta tightly hugged A’Mu. A’Mu’s expression was dazed. Mi Ta said: “There are only a few of us here. Who could have done it?”
“It wasn’t us,” Li Si said, imprinting each person’s expression in his eyes.
Gongyang Yan—whether from fear or cold—had a voice that actually trembled somewhat: “It’s not far from the hour of Mao now. Let’s go. Don’t stay in this ghost village anymore.”
“I agree,” Mi Ta hurriedly said.
Li Si and the Fat Daoist also had no objections. The Fat Daoist said: “First bury the two people’s corpses, then leave.”
Li Si nodded. The five living people carried Uncle Chang and Bian Kui’s corpses to the earthen slope, dug two earthen graves, and properly buried the two people’s corpses. Gongyang Yan carved a wooden plaque for Uncle Chang and inserted it in the earthen grave. Li Si looked toward the direction of Fuwa Village. The poison miasma had unknowingly seemed to draw even closer, or rather had become even more massive—almost omnipresent throughout Shifang Mountain’s outer mountain.
“We can go now,” Li Si said.
The five people followed the sheepskin ancient scroll Bian Kui had left behind toward the black stone bridge entrance to the inner mountain. All along the way, Li Si frowned and gazed intently at the sheepskin ancient scroll. Gongyang Yan came closer and asked: “Is the map hard to read?”
Li Si’s expression was complex. He shook his head and said: “I’m just confirming whether we’ve taken the wrong path. Alright, let’s go this way.”
The five people arrived at the black stone bridge precisely before the hour of Mao. The black night was like thick black fog wrapping around the five people. Li Si and the other five stood in a circle, with Mi Ta and A’Mu in the middle of the circle. The white fog on the opposite side of the black stone bridge was still deeply thick, with no signs of drifting away.
“It’s almost the first quarter of the hour of Mao. The white fog will move, won’t it?” Gongyang Yan spoke as if to others, yet also as if convincing himself.
Time seemed like dust in the wind, slowly passing without leaving a trace. Half a shichen passed, one shichen, one and a half shichen… Even in the pitch-dark Shifang Mountain where time couldn’t be accurately judged, they had definitely passed the third quarter of the hour of Chen, yet the white fog poison miasma on the opposite side of the black stone bridge still hadn’t disappeared. This also meant the five people couldn’t enter the inner mountain.
“That damned Bian Kui actually deceived me!” Gongyang Yan roared angrily, his eyes full of sparks as he looked toward the cliff’s deep abyss. “I don’t believe it—we can’t cross the inner mountain’s poison miasma? I’ll try!”
Gongyang Yan clenched his fist and jumped onto the black stone bridge, but was pulled down by Li Si. Li Si’s face was ice-cold as he said: “You’re trying with your life—there’s only one chance. If you’re wrong, it’s eternal damnation. Everything about you will turn to nothing. Are you certain you want to try?”
“I… I…” Gongyang Yan didn’t give an answer, but in the end he held his head dejectedly.
“I think Bian Kui had no reason to deceive us. The climate between the inside and outside of Shifang Mountain forms its own system—this isn’t something mortals can fathom. I think we should wait one more day and see.” Li Si looked at the others and said.
The other four all nodded silently.
“Let’s return to Fuwa Village first,” Li Si said.
Gongyang Yan howled like a cat whose tail had been stepped on: “No, we can’t go back! Two people have already died in Fuwa Village. That ghost-like three-handed monster will continue killing people. No matter what, we can’t go back.”
“If the three-handed monster or whatever’s target is us, no matter where we go, it will track us down and strike. Rather than hiding here and there outside with nowhere to take shelter, we might as well go back and face it bravely.” Li Si said firmly. “Before we truly face it in reality, we can’t let ourselves frighten ourselves. Otherwise, you’ll lose even the chance to summon your courage. Understand?”
Gongyang Yan stared into the depths of the black stone bridge, his shoulders moving: “You’re right. Before completing what I must do, I can’t become a coward first. That way, even if I enter the inner mountain, I’m destined to accomplish nothing.”
“Let’s go back,” Mi Ta said softly.
The five people returned once again to Fuwa Village. Different from the first time, this time upon returning, each person’s face was grave and solemn. The poison miasma outside the village was drawing nearer at a speed discernible to the naked eye, oppressing the five people’s fragile nerves. If they still couldn’t enter the inner mountain, they could only flee Shifang Mountain before the poison miasma arrived. Although no one said it aloud, everyone understood in their hearts.
“What do we do tonight? Why don’t we just not sleep?” Mi Ta said hesitantly.
Li Si raised an eyebrow and sighed helplessly: “So be it. Tonight the five of us will all squeeze together in the center of the stone platform. We must keep two people awake. The remaining people don’t have to sleep, but if they’re tired, they can sleep.”
The others had no objections.
Bian Kui’s bamboo basket was emptied by Gongyang Yan. He pulled out five or six packages of dried beef and cured meat, three jars of Green Snake Tip, as well as green fruits, bitter peaches, and quite a few other fruits, plus three rolls of wrapped insect-repelling incense.
“Everyone eat everything. We need strength to deal with that monster.” Gongyang Yan tore and chewed the dried beef forcefully. A fierce look flashed through his eyes, as if what he was tearing and gnawing wasn’t dried beef, but rather the blood and flesh of that terrifying murderer.
After dinner came the long black night. The five people all forced themselves to stay alert and not fall asleep, seeking in each other’s faces the courage to hold on. Everyone spoke very little. The surroundings were deathly silent like the previous night, with only faint breathing sounds. Not knowing how much time had passed, Li Si vaguely heard again that kind of sorrowful, weeping, complaining sound, as if also carrying some ancient, mysterious rhythm.
Li Si suspected he had heard wrong and wanted to ask the others, but A’Mu and Mi Ta could no longer hold on and had fallen asleep leaning against each other. The Fat Daoist and Gongyang Yan were concentrating completely on guarding the stone platform. While Li Si hesitated, the ethereal sound had already disappeared. Sure enough, it was just an illusion. After entering Shifang Mountain, he had been too tired. Li Si thought this.
Once he thought about being tired, the fatigue hidden in his body roared forth like a flood of savage beasts. Entire sheets of darkness occupied Li Si’s eyes. Li Si tried his best to resist for a moment but ultimately slowly lowered his eyelids. A familiar scent surrounded Li Si.
I can’t sleep. If I fall asleep, perhaps I’ll never be able to wake up the next day. But I’m actually so powerless, so powerless…