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墨書 Inktalez
The next morning, with dark circles under my eyes, I picked up the fallen Tongzi Paper Man and placed it back on the Altar Table in the hall. My heart was racing with anxiety. I decided to inquire about the old house and Granduncle San in town.
Huaiyin Town was small, retaining many old buildings, with winding cobblestone paths. The townspeople looked at me with a mix of curiosity and a hint of... fear?
At a small grocery store at the town entrance, the shopkeeper was a seemingly kind middle-aged woman. I casually mentioned, "Oh, the Lin Family Old Residence..."
The shopkeeper paused her movements, lowering her voice. "Miss, are you really a relative of Old Lin? That house... it's been around for quite some time, and there are some stories about it."
"Stories? What kind of stories?" I pressed.
"Well..." The shopkeeper glanced around before leaning in closer. "They say that house recognizes its master and is picky about who stays there. Old Lin lived there alone for most of his life without any issues, but outsiders who tried to rent it never lasted long—either they fell ill or encountered strange occurrences. The elders in town say it's because of the..."
"Things? Are you referring to those Paper Figurines?"
The shopkeeper's expression changed slightly as she replied vaguely, "Something like that. It's said to be a tradition passed down from the Lin family to protect the house and ensure safety. As for the specifics, we outsiders don't really know. Old Lin was quite peculiar; just be careful."
Once again, I felt a weight in my heart as I thanked her. Protecting the house? Ensuring safety? But my experience last night certainly didn't feel like "safety."
By the time I returned to the old residence, it was already evening. The golden rays of the setting sun filtered through the leaves of Huaiyin Town, casting an unreal warm glow over the eerie courtyard. I steeled myself and began to meticulously inspect the entire house, hoping to find clues left by Granduncle San that might explain these bizarre occurrences.
The house was large, with several main halls and bedrooms, as well as a few cluttered side rooms and a neglected small backyard. As I rummaged through each room, aside from thick layers of dust and some old farming tools and books, I found nothing particularly noteworthy.
Just as I was about to give up and head to the kitchen for some hot water, something caught my eye—a flicker at the tightly locked attic window on the second floor.
It looked like a shadow had flashed by.
I was startled and looked up. The attic window was tightly shut and covered with thick paper, making it impossible to see inside. But that fleeting glimpse could not have been an illusion!
Was there someone else in this house besides me?
A chill ran up my spine. Was it a thief? Or something else?
I tightened my grip on the feather duster I was using as an improvised weapon, my heart racing as I cautiously approached the staircase leading to the second floor. The wooden stairs were narrow and steep, creaking underfoot as if they could not bear my weight.
With each step up, I felt as though someone was following me from behind. The faint scent of herbs in the air seemed to grow stronger.
Upon reaching the second floor, the light dimmed further. At the end of the corridor stood that tightly locked attic door, adorned with a rusty Copper Lock. I tried pushing it open but it wouldn’t budge.
Pressing my ear against the door, I held my breath and listened intently. Inside was eerily silent—no sound at all.
Could it be... that I had truly imagined it?
Just as I began to lower my guard and prepare to head downstairs, a faint sound suddenly emerged from within the attic—a soft sobbing.
Intermittent and sorrowful, it sounded like a woman's voice.
The sound was faint, yet it clearly penetrated the door, drilling into my ears. My scalp instantly tingled with shock! There was truly someone in the attic!
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