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墨書 Inktalez
Ye Chenfeng's intuition was sharp. He didn't have x-ray vision or any special abilities, yet he could sense that his grandmother was not in her bedroom. Gathering his courage, he pushed the door open and confirmed that his intuition was correct.
His grandmother's large bed was an old-fashioned Carved Canopy Bed.
On the spacious bed lay neatly folded blankets and pillows. The sheets were completely smooth, indicating that his grandmother had not rested there at all, nor had she been in the bedroom.
Ye Chenfeng stared at the empty bed, lost in thought. He had never felt the light in his grandmother's room so glaring, so uncomfortable. Just as he was gazing at the empty bed, the door opened silently behind him, and a pair of hands slowly reached out to grab him.
He felt a sudden urge to turn around quickly.
His grandmother, with an expressionless face, stared at him and asked, "Aren't you going to sleep?"
Startled, Ye Chenfeng trembled and quickly explained, "I came to check on you, I didn't know if you were asleep."
"Go to bed."
In Ye Chenfeng's memory, his grandmother had always been kind and doting towards him; she had never been this cold, her tone chillingly impersonal.
"Grandma, your goldfish and cat are gone. What will you do from now on? Why not come live with us in the city?"
"That's a matter for later. You should go to sleep."
"Oh."
Ye Chenfeng agreed and quickly left his grandmother's bedroom, telling himself that he must call his mother tomorrow to inform her that his grandmother's dementia seemed to have worsened.
Dementia brought emotional instability and irritability. In severe cases, it could lead to aggression or wandering off.
As Ye Chenfeng turned away, he did not see the strange light flickering in his grandmother's eyes or the peculiar smile that tugged at her wrinkled lips.
Tick-tock—tick-tock.
The sound of the Alarm Clock disturbed the silence. Ye Chenfeng pulled out the battery from behind the Ticking Clock and flipped it over before covering his head with the blanket, forcing himself to sleep. If that didn't work, he would count sheep—one sheep, two sheep; counting was his strong suit. Even after counting into the thousands, his mind remained surprisingly alert.
Oh no, what is happening to me!
After tossing and turning for a while, Ye Chenfeng found himself not only unable to sleep but becoming increasingly awake. He heard the sound of mice scurrying on the roof, squeaking—he could imagine them being chased by something, fleeing for their lives.
The wind battered against the window, stirring the curtains. Suddenly, Ye Chenfeng felt a strange sensation as if he saw someone standing outside when the curtains moved. Startled, he jumped up and looked again, but all he could see was the curtain.
Restless and disturbed by the incessant squeaking of the mice, Ye Chenfeng sighed deeply. Eventually, he decided to get up and stood by the window to look outside, growing more fearful with each glance. It was too dark outside, but it seemed like there was an unusual gaze lurking in the darkness.
Ye Chenfeng shivered and hurriedly turned back, jumping onto his bed and burying his head under the covers, unwilling to show even a hint of himself.
He remained there in silence for an unknown amount of time until he finally fell asleep.
In a daze, he heard crying.
It was the sound of a girl weeping. He searched for the source of the cry and spotted a shadow curled up in the corner of the wall; it was that shadow that was crying.
"Who are you?"
The shadow did not respond. It stopped crying and slowly stood up in a mechanical manner, walking straight toward the door.
Ye Chenfeng's instincts kicked in; he sensed that this mysterious shadow intended to take him somewhere. The shadow walked ahead in a rhythmic manner while he followed behind, as if in a trance, moving lightly through the surrounding darkness.
Without form, he gradually blended into that darkness. It was cold in that darkness—a bone-chilling cold that felt like being submerged in icy water, devoid of any warmth; even his breath felt frigid.
After walking for a while, Ye Chenfeng heard the sound of water. His consciousness told him he had arrived at a place he should not be—the edge of a small river.
Though it was called a small river, it was quite wide—over ten meters across. In winter, mist would rise from its surface, creating a renowned scenic view that was truly beautiful. However, after reports of local children going missing near it, no one dared to come and admire its beauty anymore.
Yet here Ye Chenfeng was.
The river's surface was clear of mist; a chilling wind blew fiercely around him.
The shadow did not stop, moving straight toward the riverbank.
"Hey!" Ye Chenfeng shouted. The shadow turned back for a glance, revealing long hair and slender shoulders, drenched from head to toe. Wasn't she that little girl?
His grandmother said she was a ghost.
Ye Chenfeng was startled and wanted to run—his legs felt as heavy as lead, unable to move. The little girl grinned wickedly as she approached him. With each step, her facial muscles seemed to melt like white wax, flowing down to reveal white bones and crimson flesh beneath.
"You... you are a water ghost."
Ye Chenfeng gasped in shock and hurriedly retreated, but an inexplicable force restrained him, rendering him immobile.
He struggled desperately, shouting loudly. The girl's decaying face drew closer, her bulging eyes swaying ominously. One eye popped out with a plop—perfectly landing in Ye Chenfeng's open mouth as he tried to scream.
Mmmph—
Ye Chenfeng finally jolted awake, sensing a strange taste in his mouth, something foul. As he suddenly opened his eyes, his hair stood on end; there was someone quietly standing by his bed.
It was his grandmother.
She held a handful of dirt in her palm.
She said Ye Chenfeng had sleepwalking disorder and that he wandered to the river alone in the middle of the night. He had picked up a dead fish and put it in his mouth, returning from the river just like before. His grandmother had seen him and followed behind, just about to turn on the light when he woke up.
Ye Chenfeng could not believe he had sleepwalking disorder.
But when his grandmother brought his shoes over for him to see, the soles were wet and covered in mud.
She shot him a cold glance, personally turned off the light, and stated that she would lock the room door from the outside to prevent Ye Chenfeng from sleepwalking again.
"I don't have sleepwalking disorder! Please don't do this, Grandma."
No matter how much Ye Chenfeng shouted or pleaded, his grandmother remained indifferent.
Did he have sleepwalking disorder? Ye Chenfeng asked himself, feeling so frustrated that he was on the verge of losing his mind. In the end, he realized one thing: his grandmother's dementia was more severe than usual.
Now he felt like he was stuck with a crazy person, and he was becoming a bit eccentric himself.
For example, his mother told a story about a mute person and a Normal Person.
The mute couldn't speak and could only gesture.
The Normal Person could talk fluently.
However, communicating with the mute was not easy; helplessly, he had to resort to gestures to communicate.
As a result, after spending half a year with the mute, this Normal Person had also become someone who could only gesture and couldn't speak.
Ye Chenfeng sighed deeply; everything would have to wait until dawn.
As silence enveloped him, he didn't have to strain to think. The image of the girl he had seen earlier inexplicably floated into his mind.
He remembered his grandmother telling ghost stories, specifically about ghosts looking for Substitute Ghosts. She said that there were water ghosts by the river that devoured people, and that little girl was the water ghost's Substitute Ghost. Now she had already become a Substitute Ghost, and her parents still didn't know.
If that girl was indeed a Substitute Ghost, Ye Chenfeng hoped to see her again. If he could help her, that would be best; at the same time, he hoped she wouldn't harm anyone else. After a night of daydreaming, he finally fell into a peaceful sleep, though it felt like he had eaten something strange earlier, as there was an unpleasant taste in his mouth that made even his breath smell foul.
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