"The smell is too strong; open a window and air this place out. What is that odor, a sour saltiness..." Old Man Liu sputtered, waving his fingers around the phantom spot as if commanding mountains and rivers, his hand passing right through the little ghost.

Young Master Liu stared, dumbfounded, for a long time before realizing his father couldn't see the thing at all!

If a woman had been standing before him, he could have swallowed his masculine pride, shouted, "There's a ghost!" and then clung to her tightly.

But this was his own father. Young Master Liu paused, deciding it was better not to provoke him. Even if he spoke, no one would believe him. To avoid lengthy explanations, he decided to simply wave it off with a casual laugh.

The dinner tonight was surprisingly fragrant, even featuring a rare bowl of fatty pork belly. Yet, Young Master Liu kept his head down, pushing the rice around his bowl. The usually mouth-watering pork tasted like chewing wax—utterly bland. This led Old Man Liu and his wife to wonder if their son had come down with a fever.

Abruptly setting down his empty bowl, Young Master Liu retreated to his room and sat on the edge of his bed in deep thought. Ever since visiting that Wuxian Lingguan Temple, strange occurrences had been non-stop. He tried to piece together every small detail from the past few days. He had a nagging feeling there was a secret woven through it all; every event was so bizarre, so inconceivable—things most people wouldn't encounter in three lifetimes, yet he’d stumbled into them all within two days.

A strong gust of wind rushed in from outside, rattling the windowpanes fiercely. He stood up, intending to close the window, but as soon as his feet hit the floor, a sharp ache shot through his legs, causing him to pitch forward and collapse onto the ground. The contorted expression on his face and the five fingers digging deep into his flesh clearly indicated he was in agony.

Yes, pain—an extraordinary, searing pain! His entire lower back felt as if a wild beast had ripped him in half, or perhaps someone had thrust an iron rod through his skin straight into his abdominal cavity, then twisted it violently in every direction, churning his insides into knots. Young Master Liu admitted he possessed considerable tolerance; being a ruffian wasn't easy—it required shrewdness, ruthlessness, and above all, endurance.

He reflected that ever since he carried a schoolbag full of bricks to fight people in the third grade, over just a few short years, he had endured countless one-on-one fights, gang brawls, weapon clashes, and posturing contests. He had honed his resilience to such a degree that if someone smashed a beer bottle over his head, Young Master Liu would only yawn and offer a slight smile. But now, this indescribable agony caused him, seasoned by hardship, to utterly break down in less than two seconds.

"What on earth is wrong? Why does my kidney hurt so badly? I haven't done anything today!" Young Master Liu gritted his teeth, muttering to himself. Beads of sweat, seeping from every pore, drenched his shirt without reservation, leaving a vague human silhouette printed on the concrete floor.

Though he racked his brain, he couldn't figure out the source: "It seems... it seems like when I held that Guan Gong statue this afternoon, something bumped me hard... and then, that was it."

"Ow, damn it, it hurts again... Could I be sick?"

With that, Young Master Liu shakily unbuttoned his shirt, wondering if he had developed an infestation of lice or other charming creatures due to not bathing for several weeks, or perhaps even caught scabies. If that broke open, he'd be in real trouble.

Even with his trembling movements, which were as careful as he could manage, his elbow accidentally knocked his waist as he pulled his hand away. The result was inevitable. The tidal wave of agony nearly made him black out, only returning when he sucked in three sharp breaths of cold air.

He twisted his head to look at the source of the pain and froze completely. On the patch of relatively fair, tender skin, there was distinctly imprinted a small, purplish-blue handprint! The color resembled an allergic reaction, but Young Master Liu knew instantly it wasn't. That small handprint showed clear, delicate details of the fingers and palm, as if someone had pressed a real ink pad onto his body.

Instantly, a chill shot from the soles of his feet straight to the crown of his head. If his guess was correct, his back pain was directly related to being shoved in the department store, and who else could the owner of that tiny handprint be but that lingering little boy?

"It's over, it's over, completely over." Young Master Liu's brain was nearing a short circuit; his thoughts were hollow, a chaotic mess.

"Medicine, I need medicine. Right, Safflower Oil, I’ll rub some Safflower Oil on it first!" Young Master Liu frantically lifted the bedsheet. He remembered keeping his small box of medicine hidden under the bed. He quickly bent down, feeling around. In those days, not every rural household had electric lights; the only illumination at night came from kerosene lamps.

Under the bed was pitch dark, impossible to see clearly. The faint yellow halo of light only managed to spill onto Young Master Liu's feet, unable to stretch any further into the darkness.

Having no choice, Young Master Liu reluctantly half-crawled onto the floor, stretching his entire arm beneath the bed to retrieve the medicine chest. The entrance, however, was empty—nothing there.

"That's weird, I remember putting it right in there. Maybe Mom moved it somewhere else?" Young Master Liu thought, pushing his hand deeper toward the furthest part of the bed.

He finally touched something, but the feel wasn't right. It wasn't the hard plastic he expected, but a mass that felt soft and elastic.

What was this? Young Master Liu’s heart plummeted, and the fingers gripping the object instinctively loosened.

At that moment, the incredible happened: the kerosene lamp, which could barely illuminate nearby areas, suddenly flared brightly. The light flickered, causing the entire room to momentarily flash, and the halo of light at the foot of Young Master Liu’s feet seemed to come alive, flowing forward. Slowly, it illuminated half the space under the bed, bringing clarity to the puzzled Young Master Liu's view. In the gloom, he saw the medicine box lying quietly in a different direction. Directly opposite him, a small boy lay sprawled, and his fingers were precisely pressed against the boy's face. Between his fingers, the boy’s gaze remained vacant, his dead, fish-like eyes seeming to pierce Young Master Liu’s heart, staring without any expression a human should possess.

Time seemed to freeze at this instant; the second hand was stuck on the clock’s dial. The temperature in the entire room dropped sharply by more than ten degrees, and an eerie chill surged in like a tide from all directions. Young Master Liu’s mouth hung open, his throat dry, unable to utter a single sound, as if his throat had been cut. The hand stretched under the bed did not move forward or back; it merely froze there, trembling without rhyme or reason—or perhaps, it no longer belonged to Young Master Liu’s control.

"Hee-hee-hee..." Looking at Young Master Liu, the little boy let out a chilling laugh. The sound was grating, like fingernails scraping across glass, causing immediate fright and dread.

Simultaneously, Young Master Liu suddenly felt as if he had plunged into an endless swamp. He wanted to struggle, but there was no strength to draw upon; the harder he fought, the deeper he sank.

Then, he felt countless sharp knives emerging from the mud, hacking forcefully at every vital point of his body.

He was in agonizing pain, his muscles convulsing. He exerted all his strength to scream, but again, he discovered he couldn't hear his own cries.

He could only feel his larynx straining in a silent shout, vibrating violently.

The sharp knives continued to hack at his body. With every blow, he felt a pinpoint of intense pain. These countless points of extreme pain spread across his body; he felt no numbness, but rather, every strike was as sharp as the first—excruciatingly painful and unbearable.

Then, the flesh cut away by the knives seemed to be forcibly sucked away by some unseen power. Logically, the flesh already severed by the blades should have detached from his body, yet for some unknown reason, he still felt the agonizing sensation of being forcibly torn apart.

When he reached the absolute limit of his endurance, he realized he was still tightly squeezing his eyes shut. He urgently forced his eyes open, but he still couldn't see anything...

"Am I blind?" Young Master Liu felt he was going insane!

The pain of the knives tearing at his flesh, the absolute blackness, and the helplessness of being trapped in the mud hammered repeatedly against his nerves.

He felt as if he were already losing something, or about to lose something vital in his life...

His head grew heavy. He knew this was the end of his life; he had given up resisting.

The sharp knives struck directly toward his chest...

Was this the end of his life? That was Young Master Liu's final fleeting thought.

When he could finally open his eyes again, he found himself inexplicably outside his home, standing in a completely unfamiliar environment. Gazing out, he saw tombstones scattered everywhere, interspersed with (locust) trees. The view was a dense, oppressive expanse. Amidst this secretive darkness, wisps of cold, chilling mist mysteriously enveloped him, seeming to dance with life in the black night, constantly swirling around Young Master Liu and inducing an abnormal sense of unease.

"Is anyone there? Is anyone here?" With a measure of anxiety welling up, Young Master Liu cautiously advanced, calling out, as if hoping to find someone, anyone, in this place that resembled the underworld.

He continued walking quietly forward, and a creeping dread began to settle in his heart. Perhaps initially, it was just a sliver of curiosity, but after walking for such a long time without sensing any trace of life, he was starting to lose control.

In the complete darkness, the only sounds he could hear were his own footsteps and his pounding heart.

"Drip... drip..." Suddenly, the sound of dripping water echoed from an unknown source, carrying a sinister rhythm that slowly seeped into Young Master Liu's ears, conveying an air of gloom.

Not perceiving the strangeness of the dripping water at all, Young Master Liu ran toward the source as if he had spotted a savior, moving faster than he could have imagined. Perhaps, at this moment, all he wanted was to find some anchor, some vestige of life in this dead space.

His steps created ripples in the dark night as Young Master Liu surged forward. The slightly sinister, faint sound of dripping water grew closer, seemingly on the verge of revealing its origin.

"Thwack..." He stopped abruptly, frozen in place, his eyes wide with disbelief. In the pitch-black surroundings, a mottled sign was suddenly nailed upright. The black characters were somewhat faded, but he could vaguely make out the words 'Naihe Bridge' written on it.

Thick woods snaked along the path ahead, seemingly stretching endlessly. Crooked shadows floated and danced on the ground. By the gods, this was more than just ordinarily sinister.

A cool, somber wind blew from nowhere, causing Young Master Liu to shiver violently. Sparse paper lanterns by the lake emitted a faint, eerie green light, as if maliciously giggling.

As he walked closer, he realized that only the surface of the lake water appeared green; deeper down, it slowly shifted to a bright, blood-red color. The water was remarkably clear, allowing him to see unknown aquatic weeds swaying beneath the surface.