Could it be that the couple who died in the Lop Nur underground ruins once lived here? And what was their relationship with the Rabinovich couple?

Were they perhaps the parents of one of the Rabinovich pair? If I guessed correctly, then this coincidence is too much, isn't it?

Recalling the string of bizarre events that followed the discovery of those two skeletons in the elevator, my hair stood on end. Investigating this far, I couldn't help but suspect that the person who entered the house just now wasn't a mere thief, but someone trying to signal that I was caught in some strange conspiracy.

Flipping through the notebook, I found it was completely blank. Actually, saying it was completely blank wasn't entirely accurate, as I noticed the first dozen pages had been torn out.

Judging by the tear marks, it didn't seem like the recent visitor had done it; the edges of the tears looked old, suggesting it wasn't recent work. Then, I searched through everything in the drawers again, but found no other valuable clues.

Finally, I turned my attention to the photograph hanging on the wall. Having already learned Russian, I gasped sharply upon reading the inscription on the label beneath the frame.

Because it read: "In memory of the three members of the Rabinovich family: Vladimir Rabinovich Chakov, Dani Yankovich Matsyusha, Vladimir Rabinovich Bey." Seeing this, I realized the Rabinovich couple were Chakov and Matsyusha! This was unbelievable, because we had once helped fulfill the last wishes of their remains.

Could they have returned as ghosts to repay our kindness, caring for me so diligently? Clearly, this made no sense either, because if they were both ghosts, the villagers seeing them shouldn't have displayed any surprise.

Unless, every person in the village was a ghost. Thinking of the warm villagers, the lively, adorable children, and Long Jia, there was absolutely no way I could believe they were spirits.

I shook my head, feeling I must have miscalculated somewhere; perhaps this was just a coincidence. Russian names, when you count them up, only fall into a few categories—for example, there are countless people named Ivan, unlike Chinese names, where tens of thousands of characters can combine freely, leading to frequent coincidences.

Thinking this way offered some comfort, yet it left a nagging doubt. The Rabinovich couple had been so good to me; logically, I shouldn't have doubted them, and sneaking into their house to rifle through their belongings was inherently impolite.

With that realization, I crept back to the window and slipped out, carefully closing it behind me. Back in the room, Nie Chuan was still snoring away, completely unaware that I had left.

I shook my head, utterly despising my own sleeping posture, resolving to change that habit in the future. After the night's turbulence, I lay in bed, unable to sleep.

Suddenly, I recalled Zoya’s surprised reaction on Durban Island’s underground ruins when she heard I was from Durban Village, asking if the people there were well. At the time, I hadn't paid much attention to her remark, but looking back now, it seemed to hold a deeper meaning.

Could it be that Zoya had actually wanted to tell me Durban Village was inhabited by ghosts, but stopped short, merely posing that meaningful question about how they were doing? Lost in thought, I must have drifted off without realizing it, until Nie Chuan shook me awake the next morning.

Upon waking, the first thing I did was suddenly sit bolt upright and declare, "No, we have to return home immediately!" Nie Chuan looked stunned and replied, "Why? We haven't even visited Durban Island ourselves yet.

So much remains unclear; we've waited this long, wouldn't it be a waste to leave now?" I decided not to hide anything and told Nie Chuan everything that had happened the previous night, word for word. Nie Chuan seemed skeptical and wanted me to show him through the crack in the door.

However, just then, the door swung open, and Da Xiong strode in carelessly. Seeing both of us shirtless, sitting close together on the bed, Da Xiong froze.

I caught a flicker of "caught in the act" satisfaction in his eyes. Just as I was about to tell him not to talk nonsense, he pointed at Nie Chuan and exclaimed, "You brat, I was wondering why you disappeared while I was sleeping last night—turns out you were meeting your lover in secret!

What will Liang Qian think if you two are doing this sort of scandalous thing!" Nie Chuan irritably tossed the flashlight lying on the bed and cursed, "It's morning, stop spouting nonsense! I was here to ask *something.

Can you keep your voice down, you idiot? What if Liang Qian hears!" Hearing Nie Chuan's voice being even louder than Da Xiong's, I thought to myself, You fool, if you’re this loud, that’s exactly when Liang Qian will hear!

As soon as I thought that, another person walked in through the doorway—it was Liang Qian. Nie Chuan and I pulled the blanket up over our chests at almost the same moment, looking utterly astonished.

Da Xiong burst into laughter and declared, "Good! What else do you have to say!

Xiao Chuan, if you really like Hu Erwan, I'll be your matchmaker. Although his parents are old revolutionaries, they have modern ideas for the new era and might be moved by your true feelings, approving your marriage." I patted the bed, finding nothing left to throw, so I spat out a string of curses: "You fat slob, say one more word of nonsense, and I'll cut out your tongue and make shredded pig tongue for lunch!" Da Xiong seemed somewhat wary of , coughed awkwardly, and mumbled, "?

When did you become so sharp-tongued?" Liang Qian watched the actions of the three of us without speaking for a long time, finally directing her gaze toward Nie Chuan beside me and saying calmly, "What time is it? Time to eat!" Seeing the gentle warmth and focus in Liang Qian's eyes when she looked at Nie Chuan, a sudden wave of jealousy washed over me.

But I muttered a few phrases internally: *I am , I am Hu Erwan. That seemed to soothe things slightly, and I quickly got dressed and climbed out of bed.

By the time I reached the dining table, everyone else was already seated. The Rabinovich couple watched me with smiles, showing concern and asking appropriate questions about the ruins island.

I answered everything, though I carefully avoided the crucial details. The couple listened with fascination, saying they would have to visit themselves someday, as those ruins were, after all, part of their ancestors' heritage.

I remained silent, as my gaze had already shifted to the other two—Nie Chuan and Liang Qian. They were sitting close together on the same long bench.

Though they weren't flirting like a couple, Liang Qian finished eating first, rested her chin in her hand, seemingly deep in thought, occasionally stealing glances at Nie Chuan—something I observed with an indescribable sense of bitterness. "I am the real Nie Chuan!" I desperately wanted to tell him.

But as I thought that, I realized that the Nie Chuan opposite me—his appearance, his personality, everything about him—was broadcasting to everyone that he was Nie Chuan. In my distress, I recalled Boss Wu's words: "It doesn't matter if others don't acknowledge who you are; the important thing is never to lose yourself." With this thought, I gritted my teeth, downed the porridge in my bowl in one gulp, stood up, and announced, "I'm going out for a walk." *’s naturally solitary nature meant that no one paid much attention to my words; they all continued with their business.

I walked out of the courtyard alone, met by the blinding sunlight. The previously lush flowers and plants in the courtyard had been covered by the heavy snow of the past few days.

The grape trellis by the wall was also coated in ice, and the vines, which should have been vibrant green, were frozen yellow. Though the sun was bright, it offered not a single trace of warmth.

I stepped onto the snow and walked out through the courtyard gate. On the street, the Durban Village villagers were all busy with their respective tasks: elderly men sitting by their yard entrances, smoking pipes in the sun; children running wildly in the snow, engaging in snowball fights.

Everything pulsed with the breath of life—where was the slightest hint of ghostly energy?