Due to severe influenza these past few days, I was too overwhelmed to write, so I've taken a break. Today, I'm catching up by releasing five chapters all at once.

In the deep, silent dark of a rainy night, a warm, soft body nestled in my arms. Though my stomach was crying out for food, the relentless travel and the flood of emerging mysteries had left me utterly drained, body and soul. Thus, my eyes soon grew hazy, and I drifted quickly to sleep.

Midway through a flight of fancy, a sudden, piercing cold struck me, forcing my eyes open instantly. Qin Bing'er, cradled against me, was still sleeping soundly, her breathing even and steady. A strange feeling settled over me: how could such an odd chill arise when we were nestled together, sheltered in the hollow of a tree?

I fumbled to light a cigarette, hoping to steady my nerves, but Bing'er held me too tightly, and the tree hollow was so cramped I couldn't move an inch. With a helpless sigh, I let my gaze drift past her, focusing on the world outside the small opening, trying to assess the situation. As my eyes scanned the pitch-black mountainside, the source of that strange cold finally clicked into place.

The world was utterly black, yet my gaze had locked onto a figure. I couldn't discern any features, but I saw with perfect clarity a person dressed entirely in white, standing still, perhaps two or three meters from our hollow. The situation was bizarre, uncanny. After all, under a moonless, black night, where there was no light—not even the faintest spark of lightning—how could I see anything at all? Yet, this person, this figure in white, was visible to me in every detail save for the face; they stood as motionless as an old monk in deep meditation, simply standing there.

My heartbeat accelerated sharply. A chilling memory flashed through my mind—the consequence of seeing someone in white in the pitch dark. Based on what my parents and uncle had personally experienced, anyone appearing this way was surely on the verge of death. Who could this be? Master Ji? Unlikely; their height was clearly less than his. Man Niao Niao? Even less so; the build was nowhere near Man Niao Niao’s imposing stature. Could it be… Qin Bing’er? The thought sent my heart into a frenzy, leaving a bitter coating on my tongue. But upon closer inspection, the figure appeared male, gaunt and withered, seemingly even hunched over.

Hunched over? A bead of cold sweat instantly trickled down my forehead. Could it be… my grandfather? No, that couldn't be right. Grandpa had been gone for over a decade, probably already reincarnated. Why would he be standing in the dark wearing white? Besides, Grandpa never wore white, and the burial clothes he was laid out in weren't this color either.

I decided I must be trapped in a nightmare. Since my limbs were paralyzed, I bit down hard on my tongue. The sharp pain shot through every fiber of my being, and an overwhelming wave of terror flooded my mind… Had I truly encountered a legendary ghost?

I thought about waking Qin Bing’er, but then paused. If she woke up and suddenly saw the immobile figure in white outside our hollow, wouldn't she scream herself hoarse? So, I could only stare wide-eyed at the man in white, frozen in place.

Just then, the figure moved. He raised his right hand, pointed toward the tree hollow where we sheltered, and seemed to nod at me. His form flickered slightly, and then he made a beckoning gesture. As confusion washed over me, Qin Bing’er, who had been sleeping peacefully, suddenly woke. Instead of speaking to me, she lifted her head from my embrace and crawled out of the hollow.

This sudden turn of events stunned me for two seconds before sheer panic seized me. I wasn't afraid of ghosts, but I dreaded anything happening to Bing’er. Her current movements were incredibly strange, almost like she was sleepwalking. I tried to reach out with my aching, numb hand to pull her back, only to discover with shock that my limbs no longer obeyed me. I felt utterly petrified, exactly like those awful "sleep paralysis" dreams I sometimes had.

Frantically helpless, I could only watch as Bing’er sleepwalked to the side of the white-clad figure, standing there motionless like a shy little girl. I distinctly remembered Bing’er wearing dark clothes, yet now she stood out vividly against the background, while the mountains, trees, and sky behind her and the white figure remained a single, inky black mass.

This is a dream, I must be dreaming, I chanted internally, struggling desperately to shake myself awake from this nightmare. Once awake, I would find Bing’er still curled up beside me like a kitten.

The man in white seemed to let out a cold smirk, beckoned Qin Bing’er once more with his finger, then turned and started walking forward. True to form, Bing’er followed obediently, without a word, not sparing me a single glance.

These two—and I couldn't be sure if they were human now—receded before my eyes until they vanished into the heavy darkness. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The night was so black, the earth so still, yet these two figures were perfectly visible to me, like two white phantoms against the dark.

I watched Bing’er disappear, my anxiety churning like an ant on a hot pan, while my body remained rooted like a stone.

I cursed inwardly—cursing Master Ji, cursing Man Niao Niao, cursing the white-clad figure who had just vanished. All I wanted now was for my limbs to suddenly regain function so I could chase after the man who took Bing’er. Human or ghost, I’d beat him first. But I could only think it; my mind could not command my body.

As I was desperately searching for a solution, a faint, distant buzzing sound reached my ears. Though I couldn't trace its origin, a sudden surge of hope bloomed within me: perhaps this approaching sound was the key to waking up and escaping this paralysis.

The buzzing grew louder, closer, like thousands of bees flying directly toward me. I tried to strain my ears to identify the source, but to my utter reluctance, I found I couldn't even turn my neck. The only movement possible was the futile twitching of my eyeballs.

I commanded my torso with all my might, feeling every vein strain to the breaking point. Just as I was internally unleashing a torrent of curses, a beam of white light shot forth from ahead, rushing straight toward me in the hollow. Before I could utter a cry, the light struck my forehead. An instant, searing pain erupted, as if my skin were being burned. The direct result of this intense agony was that I suddenly sprang upright, hitting my head against the inside of the tree hollow, followed by a dizzying spray of stars dancing before my eyes.

Initially, I was ready to roar in anger, but then a wave of joy washed over me—I could move! I was finally free. My first instinct was to check my arms for Qin Bing’er; she was gone. In the narrow hollow, I was utterly alone. Panic seizing me, I ignored the fiery throbbing on my forehead and scrambled out of the tree hollow, looking utterly wretched, like a dog scrabbling from a hole.

Once the starry spots faded, I gasped in horror: the sky wasn't that dark anymore. A single bright star shone overhead—the morning star, signaling that dawn was not far off. Could that have been a dream? Was that absolute darkness merely the pre-dawn gloom?

I couldn't process the question, as I had already taken off, running full tilt in the direction the white figure and Qin Bing’er had vanished. The mountain terrain was damp, the low bushes and weeds heavy with cold dew, yet I felt transformed. Despite the intense throbbing in my forehead, I moved through the thorny undergrowth with astonishing ease. For any slightly shorter bush, I leaped right over it, feeling light as a swallow and brimming with energy.

I didn't know if this surge was the result of a night's rest or sheer panic for Bing’er’s safety, but I just kept charging forward. While running with reckless abandon, I failed to notice a sudden snag underfoot. Unable to stop my momentum, I tumbled forward in a perfect, face-first sprawl.

I cursed hoarsely, reaching down to retrieve my shoe which had flown off, when my hand inadvertently brushed against a vine as thick as a chopstick. Not far from the vine lay my shoe, jammed onto a perfectly straight tree branch. The light was dim, so I couldn't tell what material the branch was made of, but the moment I gripped it, it felt incredibly hard.

Perhaps this was fate. After touching the vine and the branch, I instinctively—without thinking why—fashioned a crude bow in a few quick movements. As I continued forward, I didn't question this strange impulse until I heard that loud buzzing sound again. I stopped, straining my ears, and only then did I wonder why I had made a bow, especially in such a critical situation.

Previously, the buzzing had stopped abruptly the moment the white light struck my forehead. This was why, when I regained clarity, I had doubted whether that sound had truly happened. Hearing it again confirmed that the massive, roaring buzz had not been a product of my dream.

The man in white and Qin Bing’er were nowhere in sight, yet I had a strange feeling, an intuition that I knew exactly where they had gone. But when I concentrated, the feeling dissolved into a blur. So, I finally gave up trying to rationalize and simply followed my gut feeling. In reality, when they vanished, I only knew one general direction; how could I possibly know their exact destination?

But the buzzing sound was as clear as if it were next to my ear, and it seemed to be growing louder. Dawn was breaking faintly now, the thin morning light casting everything in a hazy outline. I vaguely saw a dense, dark mass overhead, like a thick, leaden cloud hanging low, obscuring the sun and sky, and the roaring buzz emanated from this cloud.

I halted abruptly. This sight felt so familiar. That sensation of bizarre déjà vu returned: this buzzing sound and this cloud overhead seemed to have appeared in my memory before. Where, and when, had I experienced this?

I stood there dumbfounded, forgetting the man in white, forgetting Qin Bing’er, forgetting Master Ji, Man Niao Niao, Hua'er… The burning pain on my forehead felt as if a hot poultice had just been ripped away. I stared up at the cloud pressing down on me, trying to decipher the massive buzzing sound, straining every fiber of my being to recall when and where this familiar scenario had occurred.

Yet, my present feeling was uniquely strange. The scene that felt so close to recognition, about to emerge fully formed, was swept away by the huge buzzing noise like a receding tide, vanishing from my mind. I couldn't grasp it; I couldn't hold onto it. I glanced up. It should be fully light by now, but my surroundings were caught in a profoundly eerie state of limbo—it felt like I could see everything clearly, and yet see nothing at all.

Driven mad by frustration, I raised my hands and shouted toward the sky. My gaze fell upon the crude wooden bow. Instantly, my mind cleared. The fuzzy, confused sensation vanished completely—I finally remembered when and where I had encountered this exact, familiar scene.