I flinched and turned back, just as a shuddering, ice-cold body lunged into my arms, the sudden force staggering me so badly I nearly crashed into the hull plating beneath the jagged opening. Luckily, my stance was solid; I managed to brace my feet just in time, leaning forward. After a split second of stunned silence, I lunged toward the bow of the boat, clutching the person I held, nearly tumbling into the dark pool below.

That pause lasted less than half a second, but the haste and clumsiness of my next actions were entirely due to what flickered through my mind during that moment—a human head suddenly emerging from the pitch-black void of the opening!

Before I could even regain my balance and turn around, the person in my embrace shouted with a muffled roar against my chest, “A skull! A human skull!” The puff of air sent a strange tingle across my chest. I froze for another fraction of a second, a wave of nausea rising in my gut. Frustration and annoyance washed over me: why was I holding the hulking frame of Man Niaoniao? Where was Tan Ping’er?

I shoved Man Niaoniao away. He leaned back, looking like he was about to topple headfirst into the pool, yet this thing moved with terrifying speed and agility. At the last possible instant, he snatched at the hem of my tunic. He swung his free hand in several large circles in the air, finally managing to steady himself. He immediately wrapped his arms around the back of my neck, clamping down with such force that my head was pressed tightly against his pectoral muscles, momentarily stealing my breath... The whole sequence felt both fleetingly short and agonizingly long. Short, perhaps five seconds in real time; long, because psychologically, it felt like falling into the blackness of a winter night.

My mind in turmoil, I opened my mouth and sank my teeth hard into the bulging muscle on Man Niaoniao’s chest. He let out a howl and shoved me away from his trapped neck, sending me tumbling onto the ground. I grimaced, baring my teeth against the sharp pain radiating from my tailbone. Too pained to curse him, I twisted around to look for Tan Ping’er.

Tan Ping’er stood silently with her back to me, as if paralyzed by some binding spell.

Seeing her strange, seemingly soul-shocked demeanor, my own urgency flared. Forgetting the pain in my body and heart, I struggled to rise, intending to reach out and shield her, but my eyes were instantly snagged by the head peeking out of the opening. Every nerve ending in my body twitched, my insides felt struck by lightning, and my thoughts instantly ceased to control my actions. I stood frozen to the spot.

How should I describe that head? Even at that moment, I felt it was the head of a living person, complete with vivid, natural eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. The face was broad and square; the forehead was smooth and rounded, beneath which two thick eyebrows swept sharply towards his temples. Below the brows, two eyes, colorless to my sight, were narrowed slightly. The nose was large—comparable, perhaps, to Jackie Chan’s. Two swirling, cloud-like sideburns framed his cheeks, supporting two small, bowl-shaped ears. Between the beard and the nostrils sat a downturned 'W' shape of stubble, short and dense. Below this, the lips were tightly pressed, holding a hint of an inscrutable smile. The chin was smooth and clean, jutting out slightly... Aside from that slight curve at the corner of the mouth, there was no discernible expression—neither menacing nor tranquil. Joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure seemed present, yet utterly absent.

Ordinarily, a mere dead face wouldn't render me speechless, but the reason for my dazed state was two utterly unbelievable features on the head: First, the hair, of indeterminate length, was twisted into a strange configuration that vaguely resembled the Tufa people’s tiger totem. Second, beneath the neck, there was no muscle, only a dry, bamboo-root-like bone, the connection between the skull and the bone being perfectly smooth and level. Considering these two anomalies, my conclusion was that this person was definitely not from modern times; the specific dynasty remained unknowable. Furthermore, such a form of existence—a boat coffin burial—had long been extinct in the contemporary Tujia region.

My body, driven by the frantic thoughts in my head, only moved after a long, petrified silence. I tiptoed a step closer, standing beside Tan Ping’er. Bending over, I stared intently for a long while until I realized the head was fastened to the desiccated bone with a rusty copper nail. Moreover, the head itself wasn't real flesh but an expertly carved imitation made of some unknown material.

Having grasped the nature of the head, I let out a long breath, just preparing to tap Tan Ping’er on the shoulder, when she suddenly turned. A rough voice resonated from her: “Amaniqie?” Hearing those four familiar syllables, I jumped as if I’d stepped on a snake, instinctively scrambling three feet back, staring at Tan Ping’er’s blank face in horror.

Tan Ping’er’s complexion was ashen, her eyes vacant. Her loose hair obscured most of her face. Her lips were sealed, and two jets of white vapor hissed from her nostrils.

“Amaniqie?” the voice repeated, this time with a tone that was peaceful and gentle. Yet, it was clearly not Tan Ping’er’s voice; it sounded more like that of a man in his late thirties or forties.

“Tan Ping’er has been possessed by a Half-Puppet?” That was the first thought that crossed my mind.

The situation was tense. Perhaps because everything had happened too suddenly, I momentarily forgot Tan Ping’er’s safety. I hesitated, caught between wanting to rush forward and pull her away, yet fearing to act, and equally unwilling to flee further. My thoughts and actions were trapped in a miserable deadlock of bewilderment; I truly didn't know what to do.

Hua’er, who had been barking incessantly, suddenly leaped off Qian Gui’s back when it saw me and Tan Ping’er frozen in place. It swooped toward Tan Ping’er like a heavy cannonball, its terrifying jaws gaping open in mid-air, revealing teeth sharp as cold steel, aiming lightning-fast for her slender, pale neck. I snapped out of my daze and was about to yell a warning to shield her, but Tan Ping’er merely raised a hand and swept it gently. Hua’er’s incredibly swift body hit something like an unyielding stone wall with a loud thud, sending it tumbling straight to the ground. It rolled twice before splashing into the pool, sending up white spray.

This sudden development shook me again. I lunged toward the gunwale to try and pull Hua’er out of the water. However, this little creature, having suffered such a blow, displayed fierce bravery. It thrashed in the water, swimming toward Qian Gui, then scrambled onto Qian Gui’s back with a low whimper, its hind legs dragging. The two giant turtles, completely oblivious to the unfolding drama, continued to propel the black lotus-gathering boat forward with all their might.

Torn between worrying about Tan Ping’er’s possession and concern for the wounded Hua’er, I turned back, looking for Man Niaoniao to share the immense pressure crushing my spirit. To my surprise, he had somehow already climbed onto Kun Gui’s back, crouching like a crawling soldier behind me. His two dark, empty eyes seemed fixed on something. Fortunately, he was still holding the dazzling Xuan Yi Du You Pearl aloft, clutching it like a grenade. His own dark mouth formed an oval shape, as if shouting, “Comrades, charge!”

Frustrated and agitated, I was just about to launch a verbal assault on Man Niaoniao’s ancestors in turn, when Tan Ping’er’s face suddenly zoomed close to mine, her delicate, pointed nose almost touching my lips. The same rough voice sounded, still delivered in that calm, gentle tone: “Amaniqie?”

I heard the voice, but I didn’t see Tan Ping’er’s lips move. The sound seemed to originate from her throat, which terrified me further. I stared intently at her small mouth until she repeated the phrase. Only then was I one hundred percent certain the sound was not coming from Tan Ping’er’s oral cavity. Driven by sheer curiosity, I gathered my courage and cautiously leaned in, pressing my ear against her to listen closely.

After a moment, I gasped in horror: the rough voice was emanating from Tan Ping’er’s lower abdomen! Yes, precisely her lower abdomen!

Perhaps because Tan Ping’er was the person I most desired closeness with, my curiosity outweighed my fear. I completely forgot the immediate danger and pressed my ear against her stomach to listen intently. Tan Ping’er remained utterly still, seemingly unperturbed by my actions. “Amaniqie?” the same phrase sounded again, clearer this time, slightly louder, but even more muffled and deep.

By now, I was fully convinced that Tan Ping’er was possessed by a spirit—perhaps the spirit of the person whose skeleton supported that false head in the boat coffin.

“Your... your esteemed... who are you?” I tilted my head back and asked.