Though they had all passed through the maze, each person’s constitution was different — the intensity and direction of their enhanced abilities varied accordingly.

Bai Youwei’s hearing was nowhere near as sharp as Shen Mo’s.

It may also have been because the melancholy, plaintive singing filled her ears so completely that no other sound could reach her.

After Shen Mo’s warning, Du Lai noticed the disturbance too.

“Sounds like a door opening?” Du Lai moved to the window with a puzzled look, pressed close and listened again, then said, “After dark, every household seals their doors — so why would we hear a door opening? Let me go out and see what’s going on.”

The Li house and the Liu house were neighbors, separated only by a single earthen wall. By climbing up to the top of the wall, he could see into the adjacent yard without even leaving the courtyard.

Fu Miaoxue immediately threw her arms around Du Lai, weeping and pleading for him not to go.

“You’re going to abandon me alone again? If that’s how it is, why did you bother saving me in the first place? You might as well have let me die!”

Her eyes couldn’t produce tears, but to judge by her voice alone, she sounded genuinely heartbroken.

Shen Mo disliked wasting time. He said directly: “I’ll go take a look.”

The moment the door swung open, a cold, damp wind rushed in, carrying threads of icy rain. Bai Youwei instinctively pulled her shawl tighter.

She watched Shen Mo’s retreating figure and furrowed her brow. “Be careful.”

“Mm.” Shen Mo gave a brief nod and his silhouette quickly vanished through the doorway.

……

A row of bamboo stakes embedded in the earthen wall blocked the line of sight — and being slender and flexible, they couldn’t be climbed.

Shen Mo used his paper-doll puppet to transform into a dagger, cut a long, narrow slit through the bamboo stakes, and peered through the opening to observe the situation on the other side.

What he saw was the old woman who had posed riddles to them earlier in the day, now rummaging around the courtyard, searching for something.

Shen Mo frowned and waited. Then he watched as the old woman straightened up — a wood-chopping cleaver now in her hand.

A chill ran through him.

He watched helplessly as the old woman carried the cleaver back into the house. The wooden door panel swung and creaked behind her in the wind — yet the old man inside slept with an utterly unnatural depth, showing not the slightest sign of waking.

Before long, Shen Mo heard the sound of hacking.

*Thwack. Thwack.*

A moment later, a dull *thud* rang out.

No doubt — the sound of a head hitting the floor.

Unexpected, yet not entirely surprising. Only this could explain why the village elder had died in his bed while his wife remained completely unaware.

They must all have fallen under the influence of that singing.

Shen Mo’s brow tightened with worry. In this game, Bai Youwei was at too much of a disadvantage.

After a short while, the old woman came back out of the house carrying the wood-chopping cleaver. Her face was expressionless, her eyes blank and rigid. She walked back to where she’d found it, tossed the blood-soaked cleaver casually back into place, then returned to the house and closed the door.

From picking up the cleaver, to hacking someone, to replacing it and going back to bed — the entire sequence had been utterly natural, utterly casual. There was not a single emotional ripple — as if she were sleepwalking.

Shen Mo frowned deeply. He felt their theory was still wrong.

If all it took to stop the Bone-Hauling Woman was giving Li Shi a proper burial, then why were the women of the village continuing to kill? They were clearly being influenced by the Bone-Hauling Woman’s singing — and that influence stemmed from the Bone-Hauling Woman’s hatred toward the entire village.

Shen Mo turned around, preparing to go back inside and explain the situation to the others.

The courtyard gate suddenly let out a creak.

Shen Mo assumed it was the wind and turned toward the sound — but what he saw was an extremely gaunt face, carved deep with wrinkles, slowly pushing itself through the half-open gate…

Disheveled hair, ragged clothing — an old woman who looked like a skeletal dried corpse. Her eyes were fixed wide open, staring straight at Shen Mo.

Shen Mo stared back at her, every sense alert.

In the next instant, the old woman suddenly raised both forearms and came charging toward him in a rigid, ramrod-straight sprint.

She ran and ran, her features twisting into a hideous, frenzied grin.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!

HAHAHAHAHAHA!

AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

—