Such an immense library, without an index or catalog, would essentially be useless. I looked around, but found neither. It seemed the practical value of this repository would be reduced by seventy percent; who wants to spend half a day searching for a single volume? Moreover, this is the digital age; people's patience is generally far lower than it was several hundred years ago.

So, I asked Xiao Shu, "With such a vast scope, how are we possibly going to locate the texts related to ghost infants or spirit possession?"

"Don't assume that just because it looks ancient, we're still living in the age of primitive farming," she retorted. Xiao Shu then climbed the ladder, shouted "Spirit Possession!" and immediately the ladder whirred, traversing the shelves before locking into place two points to the right, stopping before a cluster of books bound in black.

Standing at the top, Xiao Shu pulled the books out one by one, placing them near her feet, and then called out, "Return!" With a rumble, the ladder reversed along the same path, returning to its original position.

It was astonishing! This mechanism was far more responsive than that pathetic voice-activated toy dog I'd seen demonstrated at the airport last time. A sales assistant was showing a child how it worked. The instructions claimed it could move forward, backward, turn left, turn right, and dance. The child eagerly unwrapped it for a test run; it only moved forward and backward. When asked to dance, it chirped, "I haven't learned that yet," which was both funny and frustrating.

Xiao Shu handed me the stack of black-covered books before slowly descending. I placed the books on the floor, sat down cross-legged, and began leafing through them. There were five in total. Each title was printed in gold foil against a black background: The Human Realm, The Corpse Realm, The Ghost Realm, The Spirit Realm, and The Demon Realm. Inside, every page was hand-copied in fine brush calligraphy, read vertically from right to left.

"How old are these books?" I inquired.

He sat beside me, absorbed in turning the pages, and answered without looking up, "I don't know exactly. Works from every era can be found in this library. The ones lower down are more recent; the higher up you go, the older they get. There are even bamboo slips written on at the very top."

After scanning two and a half pages of archaic, inscrutable prose, I started feeling drowsy. My eyelids fought a losing battle, and I shook my head repeatedly, trying to drive away the fatigue, but my mind only grew fuzzier.

In a daze, someone tapped my shoulder from behind. I turned to see the elderly woman who had handed me slippers upon entering. Just as I was about to greet her, she placed a finger to her lips in a gesture for silence, motioning for me not to disturb Xiao Shu, who was intently reading.

I nodded in understanding, stood up, and followed her out. Observing how deeply she hunched her back as she walked, I was suddenly reminded of the hunchbacked old woman who had opened the door for me and Wang Jue at Hua Jinlan’s house. I couldn't place who she reminded me of until now; this woman seemed about eighty percent similar to the old lady at the Hua residence.

Unable to contain my curiosity, I asked, "Granny, have we met before?"

The old woman chuckled, turned her head, and replied, "Thank you to that Dr. Wang for saving my daughter. She must have caused you quite a bit of trouble recently."

"Ah?" I was completely bewildered. Thinking back, Wang Jue had only treated Gui Fang once in Jingyin Village, giving her two doses of tranquilizer. Gui Fang hadn't caused us any trouble at all. The old woman’s words were truly puzzling.