Fēng Tiān braced himself against the floorboards, and when he looked up, a pair of legs suddenly materialized before him. Shock jolted through him, yet those legs—or rather, the trousers they wore—seemed strangely familiar. They were silk trousers, gleaming with an intense blackness.

He lifted his gaze to get a better look. Standing there was the old woman he had encountered earlier at the paper effigy shop. The sitting room outside the bedroom was unlit, yet he could see the old woman’s face with perfect clarity: it was the color of bleached paper, and in the deep, layered wrinkles around her eyes, her black pupils seemed to glimmer.

“You…” Fēng Tiān was at a loss for words. Seeing this old woman now, and connecting her presence with the paper effigies inside the bedroom, he immediately realized she must be behind the haunting. A surge of fierce anger rose within him.

Even if he had forgotten to pay the money owed, it didn't justify manipulating paper figures to scare him. But facing this ancient woman, whose age was impossible to discern, he couldn't bring himself to lash out. Should he curse her loudly, or should he raise his fist?

Neither felt appropriate, yet remaining silent did nothing to quell the fire in his chest. While he wrestled internally, the old woman suddenly mumbled, “Young man, a broken promise brings trouble.” As she spoke, the paper figure drifted out of the bedroom, still shambling relentlessly toward Fēng Tiān. Fēng Tiān grit his teeth.

Ignoring the old woman, his eyes darted toward his backpack, tossed on the sofa in the living room. He prepared to lunge for it, intending to grab a tool to deal with the figure, when the old woman’s indistinct voice sounded again. “Boy, did you say something you shouldn't have?” Hearing this, Fēng Tiān froze.

The events of that day flashed through his mind, and he recalled the one sentence he had carelessly spoken to the paper effigy. “How about you become my maid…” Could it be that the paper figure had taken that sentence seriously? But why could a paper figure understand human speech?

Wasn’t that proof of a ghost? A look of sheer astonishment crossed Fēng Tiān’s face. He stared at the old woman, momentarily lost, even forgetting his fear.

The old woman fixed her gaze on Fēng Tiān. After a long moment, she suddenly cackled, a high, grating sound that was jarring in the dim room, stabbing at Fēng Tiān’s eardrums. Suddenly, he snapped back to reality, realizing the sound was eerily similar to the laughter the paper figure had emitted.

He involuntarily stumbled back a few steps and blurted out, “Who are you?” The old woman’s laughter stopped abruptly. She spoke again, her voice muffled: “I see you spoke without thinking, and you are the apprentice of an old friend. I won’t bother you this time.

I hope you will conduct yourself with care, lest careless words bring disaster upon you. Furthermore, what you promise, you must deliver, or regret will be too late.” As she delivered these words, the paper figure stopped advancing toward Fēng Tiān. Instead, it seemed to float toward the main entrance of the house.

Only then did Fēng Tiān notice that the front door, which he had clearly locked earlier, now stood wide open, revealing the pitch-black corridor outside. The paper figure drifted out the door and vanished into the darkness. After addressing Fēng Tiān, the old woman swiftly followed it toward the threshold.

Perhaps unwilling to let it go, Fēng Tiān shouted after her once more, “Who exactly are you?” The old woman, her back to him as she reached the doorway, paused when she heard the question. Under Fēng Tiān’s horrified gaze, her head slowly turned backward, and she uttered a chilling sentence: “I am not human.” With that, she dissolved into the darkness beyond the door. All that remained was Fēng Tiān inside the apartment, drenched in a cold sweat.

Only then did he realize that he hadn't seen the old woman’s feet once, from beginning to end. He stood stunned for a long time before truly regaining his senses. The back of his undershirt was soaked through with perspiration.

A small gust of wind blowing in from the open door chilled him to the bone. He moved his stiff body, went to close and lock the front door securely, and sat on the sofa hugging his tool bag. He remained there until the first hint of dawn, when he hastily threw on some clothes, slung his bag over his shoulder, and rushed straight to the paper effigy shop—both to repay the debt and to ask the owner if he actually knew such an old woman.

The paper effigy shop was a front operation with the owner’s family living in the back. When the owner, rubbing sleep from his eyes, saw Fēng Tiān smash the door open, he was startled. It was understandable; having had no sleep all night and being severely psychologically shaken, Fēng Tiān’s face was ashen, his eyes vacant, and the dark circles beneath them made him look more like a ghost than a man.

The moment Fēng Tiān saw the owner, he thrust the money toward him, but his mind was so cluttered with questions that he didn't know where to begin. The paper effigy owner knew something was amiss and ushered him inside, gesturing for him to sit down before pouring him a glass of water to help him compose himself. However, as soon as Fēng Tiān sat down, he looked up and instantly sprang off the stool as if electrocuted.

He pointed a trembling finger at a black-and-white photograph hanging on the wall opposite him, stammering, “This… this… who is this?” The person in the framed black-and-white photo on the wall was the very same old woman who had appeared in his house last night. Seeing Fēng Tiān’s ghost-like reaction, the paper effigy owner, confused, hastened to explain, “That’s my grandmother. She passed away not long ago.” Hearing this, Fēng Tiān sank heavily back onto the stool.

Last night, he had already vaguely realized that the old woman’s appearance was not intended to harm him, but rather to teach him some fundamental principles of conduct. He composed himself and recounted the incident from a few days prior—breaking the paper effigy—and everything that had transpired the night before, telling the owner everything. The owner, evidently accustomed to such strange affairs, understood why Fēng Tiān looked the way he did.

He explained that the paper effigies placed outside the door that day were meant to be burned for his grandmother. Since he had been busy filling orders for other clients, the offerings for his grandmother had been temporarily placed near the entrance. He never expected Fēng Tiān to damage one.

Later, he did notice a broken effigy, but not knowing Fēng Tiān had encountered his grandmother outside and promised restitution, he simply discarded the damaged one and fashioned a replacement. He never imagined the discarded piece would stir up such trouble. It must have been related to Fēng Tiān’s heedless words at the time.

Still, the owner was surprised his grandmother would manifest over a mere paper figure. Yet, Fēng Tiān had to accept the fact; frankly, he had brought it upon himself. If he hadn't spoken so carelessly and then promised compensation without following through, none of this would have happened.

Afterward, Fēng Tiān confided the entire episode to his Master, who had returned from out of town. Not only did his Master solemnly warn him that he must abide by whatever the old woman said from now on, but he also punished him by assigning him to work at the paper effigy shop for a month. Later, his Master found an opportune moment to reveal that the old woman from the shop had been a renowned Spirit Medium in her lifetime, having helped Fēng Tiān’s Master on numerous occasions.

The two types of people the old woman detested most were those who disrespected the dead and those who broke their word—Fēng Tiān had unintentionally committed both offenses. It was during that explanation that Fēng Tiān learned about the legend of the "Forgotten Corner." It stated that after a paper effigy became imbued with a soul, even though its fate remained to be burned as an offering, its accompanying spirit would not enter the underworld with its owner. Instead, the soul attached to it would drift within this "Corner" in the form of a paper figure.

After recounting his experience, Fēng Tiān turned to Kuàng Fēifán and said, “That’s why I suspect those paper figures are this type of manifestation. The reason it’s called the ‘Forgotten Corner’ is that everything existing in that space is something people have forgotten, overlooked, or simply disregarded.” Kuàng Fēifán stared blankly into the darkness, seemingly lost in thought. After a long pause, he murmured, “Then what are those hungry ghosts we saw?

And what about those severed limbs?” Fēng Tiān shook his head. “Those aren’t hungry ghosts. They are the souls of those who essentially vanished from the human world—people whose bodies were never found, whose own demise they never understood.

These souls cannot enter the cycle of reincarnation; gradually, they become lost and have nowhere to go, eventually falling into the ‘Corner.’” Saying this, he sighed softly and continued, “As for those severed limbs, it’s much the same—sometimes, they are merely detached limbs retaining a faint shred of a soul.” “What?” Kuàng Fēifán pressed for more information.