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墨書 Inktalez
As dawn broke, Yang Su was startled awake by a cacophony of noise. The ringing of the bell the previous night had robbed him of sleep, and he had only dozed off in the early hours.
He pushed open the window, and a chill swept over him. A crowd had gathered beneath the Old Huai Tree across from the inn, pointing and murmuring about something. He hurriedly washed up and went downstairs to inquire.
The innkeeper was busy cleaning up shards of porcelain scattered across the floor. Upon seeing Yang Su, he hesitated as if he wanted to say something but thought better of it. Yang Su leaned in closer and saw that a plaque had been smashed; faintly etched on the wood were the characters "Ju Feng." That plaque had been hanging at the entrance just fine yesterday.
"What happened?" Yang Su asked.
The innkeeper sighed, "It fell down early this morning. Not a good omen." He lowered his voice, "You know the kid from Old Xi's family at the street corner? They say he was seen last night near the bell tower."
Yang Su's heart skipped a beat. "Wasn't he missing for several days?"
"Indeed," the innkeeper rubbed his hands together nervously. " Butcher Wang's daughter-in-law said she went to the toilet last night and saw a shadow drifting into the bell tower. When she looked closely, it was none other than Xiao Wangzi! But the shadow was pale blue, and his feet didn’t touch the ground..."
Just as Yang Su was about to ask more, he noticed a strange mark in the corner of the wall. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be symbols drawn with Cinnabar, crookedly resembling the character for "town," with some incomprehensible Demonic Scribbles beneath it. These marks definitely hadn’t been there yesterday.
"Who drew this?"
The innkeeper's expression changed. "What drawing? I don’t have anything here." He pulled out a rag and began to wipe frantically.
Yang Su turned to leave and discovered that not just at the inn but at several other doorways along the street were similar symbols—some drawn with Cinnabar, others pasted with yellow paper. The street was busier than usual, with groups of people whispering among themselves.
He stood at the street corner for a while, listening to snippets of conversation from passersby.
"Something has happened again..."
"The bell rang again..."
"We need to find a Taoist priest to perform a ritual..."
Their fragmented words conveyed a sense of fear.
Yang Su walked deeper into the village along a road he hadn’t taken yesterday. The houses on either side appeared even more dilapidated; many had become dangerous structures, their doors tightly shut and covered in cobwebs.
Turning past a crumbling wall, he suddenly found himself in an open area that was irregularly shaped, overgrown with weeds and scattered bricks. In the center stood an old well; its stone rim was worn and weathered, while cracks spider-webbed across the ground around it. Above the well hung a decaying wooden frame.
As he approached, he peered into the dark depths of the well and caught a whiff of a foul odor. On the well rim were several indistinct characters; brushing away some moss revealed three faintly discernible words: " Evil-Subduing Well."
"Don't touch that well!"
A sharp voice rang out. Yang Su turned to see an elderly woman in a gray cloth jacket holding a broken porcelain bowl filled with ashes from burnt paper money.
"What’s so special about this well?" he asked.
The woman eyed him warily. "Outsiders don’t understand our customs. This well is meant to keep things in check; you can't mess with it." She suddenly lowered her voice, "Have you heard? Xiao Wangzi was last seen near this well. His mother said that night he claimed he heard bell sounds coming from inside..."
"Can the sound of a bell come from the well?"
"I wouldn't dare say that." The old woman glanced around nervously. "I still need to burn some paper; you should leave quickly."
Yang Su didn't move. "Who are you burning paper for?"
"The ones who are suppressed..." The old woman started to say but suddenly stopped. "Why are you asking so many questions! Outsider, mind your own business. It's not safe here; you better..."
Before she could finish her sentence, a faint sound suddenly echoed from the well, like something falling into the water. Both of them turned to look at the well's opening.
The old woman's face changed drastically; she threw the bowl to the ground and ran away, muttering, "It's not my business, not my business..."
Yang Su approached the edge of the well and leaned over to look down. The water was pitch black, and he couldn't see anything clearly. He picked up a stone and threw it in, waiting for a while before hearing a dull thud; it seemed the well was quite deep.
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