As Feng Tian mentioned destroying the "Nook," Kuang Feifan instinctively halted. They hadn't been completely flush against each other back-to-back, but Feng Tian, unaware, continued to step back and bumped squarely into Kuang Feifan, jolting him forward a couple of steps. He couldn't help but whirl around, the two nearly embracing.

Fortunately, neither dwelled too long on the topic of "destruction." Kuang Feifan, who had seemed rather indifferent moments before, now wore an expression of shock.

Feng Tian looked at him. "Why are you so surprised?"

Kuang Feifan stared at Feng Tian, perplexed. "You just said you didn't want to die, right?"

Feng Tian took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "You've heard of finding life by facing death, haven't you? I once idly researched this 'Forgotten Nook.' While it might be rumored, there's a high probability such a place actually exists—and it's not just one. The 'Nook' is pervasive; it's a place specifically designed to house things that possess a soul but cannot enter the Underworld via the Yellow Springs."

Kuang Feifan clicked off his flashlight. Seeing no more severed limbs around, he simply switched it back on, sat on the ground, and pointed to the spot next to him, gesturing for Feng Tian to sit as well. "Tell me about it. It’s not like we’re in a rush."

Feng Tian paused but then settled into a cross-legged position and asked, "Tell you what?"

Kuang Feifan spread his hands. "What do you mean, things that possess a soul but can't enter the Underworld?"

Feng Tian didn't know why Kuang Feifan suddenly wanted to understand these matters, but he followed his lead, sensing that Kuang Feifan's current mood was somewhat off.

In truth, Feng Tian’s speculations stemmed from their shared experiences. At first, they had been focused only on escape, not analyzing much. But as they encountered increasing dangers, Feng Tian began to ponder: the paper figures that first appeared seemed relatively harmless. Though numerous, upon closer thought, they appeared to rely entirely on sheer numbers and appearance, their purpose being merely to force them out of the vehicle and into this endless darkness.

The paper figures used in funerals have a lineage connected to early human sacrifice. Early offerings involved living people and creatures. Human sacrifice can be traced back to the slave society, only gradually abolished as people realized how cruel it was—a long process. However, records indicate that the effigies replacing living people were likely straw figures woven from reeds, mentioned by Confucius as chuling— "straw shaped like a person." Later, wooden figures were used for burial, the Terracotta Army of Qin Shi Huang being one major example.

It wasn't until the Song Dynasty that burning paper figures and paper horses became popular during burials. From then on, papercraft gradually evolved into one of the main artistic forms of funerary customs, developing into a specialized industry.

Simultaneously, paper figures became essential tools in rituals involving witchcraft, talismans, omens, and divination. Various rites for summoning, detaining, honoring, and escorting souls required the aid of paper figures, which is why paper effigies are also known as objects most easily imbued with spiritual connection.

In funerary rites, paper figures are categorized according to different roles. According to the Illustrated Record of Ancient Mingqi (Gumingqi Tulu), the Jieshi guards the master, the Yanshu serves as an attendant, and the Juru can provide entertainment.

From a certain perspective, paper figures are the loyal companions of the master they accompany into death.

Feng Tian once encountered an incident shortly after he began working in the field, still unfamiliar with many necessary precautions and taboos. One day, he went to a papercraft shop to pick up an order for his master. Upon arrival, he found the shop seemed to have landed a massive job; the interior, and even the entrance outside, was filled with paper men, paper horses, and even paper houses.

He didn't think much of it at the time. He stated his business to the owner at the door, who asked him to wait while he retrieved the goods from the back. To save time, Feng Tian handed over the payment first and waited by the door.

He was young then, and perhaps driven by simple curiosity, he found himself inexplicably standing before a paper servant girl. He tilted his head, examining her, and casually murmured, "Why don't you just come be my attendant?"

Unexpectedly, shortly after he spoke, he seemed to hear a sound as faint as a mosquito buzzing in his ear: "Okay…"

The sudden sound startled Feng Tian. He spun around to look everywhere, but in his sudden movement, his elbow knocked the paper servant girl over. A large piece of her paper face instantly cracked open.

This accident made Feng Tian immediately forget the voice. He rushed to help the paper figure up, but he had no idea what to do about the gash on its face.

Just then, a dark shadow flickered next to him. Feng Tian turned his head to see an old woman in black top and black trousers standing there. Her face was a map of wrinkles, and her eyes, deep-set in their sockets, gleamed brightly as she stared at him. Her toothless mouth mumbled indistinctly, "Young man, so careless. What if the young lady here is ruined and unwanted?"

Feng Tian guessed the old woman was likely a relative of the shop owner. Naturally, he shouldn't offend her, especially since he had genuinely damaged their property. He said, "I apologize. Let me pay you for the damage."

The old woman didn't seem overly concerned with money, nor did she know how to handle the situation, so she just kept staring at Feng Tian expressionlessly.

Feng Tian patted his pocket and realized he had given all his cash to the male owner for the order. He could only offer a wry smile. "I'm truly sorry, I only brought the payment for the goods. I don't have any cash on me right now. How about I bring the money to you later, would that work?"

The old woman's sunken lips moved, and though Feng Tian couldn't make out what she said, she turned and hurried back into the shop.

Feng Tian was surprised by how quickly the old woman moved. The shop owner emerged then, holding the items he needed, handed them over, said, "Take care," and immediately went back inside to rush on his work.

Feng Tian had intended to mention breaking the paper figure, but seeing that the owner seemed preoccupied and having already told the old woman he would return with the money, he kept quiet and left.

Back home, his master had given him many complicated tasks. After finishing them one by one, he completely forgot about the incident at the papercraft shop.

About a week later, Feng Tian felt something was off from the moment he woke up. He felt constantly tense, his heart fluttering, sensing something was about to happen, yet he couldn't pinpoint what. Coincidentally, his master had gone out the day before, leaving him with no one to consult.

That wasn't all; he had a substantial workload that day. After handling two jobs consecutively, it was already evening. He had just finished up at a client company in an office building. Although the floor wasn't very high, he opted for the convenience of the elevator downstairs.

As the elevator doors opened before him, they were empty. Feng Tian noticed nothing unusual, stepped inside, turned, and casually pressed the button for the first floor. He watched the two doors slowly close before him.

It was then that he instinctively twisted his neck, intending only to stretch his stiff muscles. In the corner of his eye, he caught a fleeting glimpse: in one corner of the elevator, a woman stood facing the wall, her back toward him.

But when he turned his head to look, the corner was empty; no one was standing there. Furthermore, if his memory served him right, in that split second he saw her, he couldn't recall seeing a reflection of the woman on either the metal wall she faced or the wall behind her.

Feng Tian realized: there was a ghost behind him.