Though I didn't turn back, I recognized the song immediately; it was the centuries-old Crying Marriage Song of the Tujia people.

Due to my own apprehension, compounded by the fluctuating wails of Man Niao Niao and the splashing of my own movements in the water, I initially mistook the singer for Tan Ping'er.

But a second thought dismissed this: Tan Ping'er had only been in Xi recently and knew almost nothing of the Tujia traditional culture.

How could she possibly sing such a mournful and melodious Crying Marriage Song? Even I, a native Tujia man, rarely heard an authentic one.

Besides, even if Tan Ping'er had heard a phrase or two elsewhere, why would she start singing inexplicably at a moment like this? There were only two explanations: either Tan Ping'er was possessed again, or the song was not hers at all! When I suddenly whipped my head around, I knew the answer for certain.

The song was indeed not Tan Ping'er's, for I heard her scream and Man Niao Niao's wails rise and fall in turn, the two huddled together in sheer terror, staring fixedly at a child not far before them.

No, more precisely, a miniature child—a child only in sensory perception, far smaller than any real child, barely a foot tall.

What shocked me even more was that this child was suspended in mid-air, his tiny body trembling with rhythmic shivers.

In a daze, I realized that the melodious yet bone-chilling song was emanating from this very child.

Tan Ping'er was wildly waving the Xuan Yi Du You Pearl, seemingly trying to drive the inexplicably appearing child away.

The snowy white light of the Xuan Yi Du You Pearl intermittently pierced the gap between her body and Man Niao Niao’s, stabbing into my eyes and washing my vision in a blinding white haze.

For a while, I couldn't make out the child's features at all, only vaguely perceiving that he was chubby.

Of course, his entire body appeared pure white to me, but he seemed to be wearing a tiny dudou (a traditional bodice), for the dudou was