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Cursed Melody
墨書 Inktalez
The weather was gloomy, with thick, low, gray-yellow clouds covering the sky. The wind howled fiercely, running rampant across the wilderness, as if wielding sharp swords that could pierce through anything. Snowflakes began to fall with the wind.
She stood in front of an ancient family ancestral hall at the Village Entrance. The corners of the hall were raised high, resembling four swallows ready to take flight, with red roofs and red pillars, exuding an air of solemnity and antiquity.
The hall's door was tall and wide, approximately two meters high and one meter wide. The plaque above it prominently displayed the four golden characters "Dun Clan Ancestral Hall." The left door was carved with "Wen Cheng," while the right door bore the inscription "Martial Officer."
Strangely, these words were not in Chinese, yet she could understand their meaning.
She felt bewildered, unsure why she was standing here. It was as if a special force from behind had brought her to this place, as if indicating that she was meant to seek some mysterious answer here.
Just as she was about to push the door open, it creaked eerily and slowly opened by itself.
She stepped inside slowly. The most eye-catching feature upon entering was the three stone tablets on the right wall, clearly inscribed with the construction date of the hall, its renovation date, and names of benefactors.
In the center of the front hall was a square Courtyard, its edges covered in dark green moss.
In the corridor leading to the Main Hall, countless couplets hung from the columns on either side; many of the characters had faded and become illegible.
The Main Hall was where ancestors were worshipped, with walls adorned with portraits of forebears. Although each Portrait was sketched with only a few strokes, they were all very lifelike. In front of each Portrait was a small Tablet inscribed with names and generational titles.
She felt no fear at all; instead, she easily matched each of these departed people's Portraits and names as if she were very familiar with this place.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted from the Rear Hall of the ancestral hall. Following the sound, she stealthily approached the Rear Hall and hid behind a tall stone pillar to investigate.
Several people stood on the stone slab in the Rear Hall, speaking anxiously to a man in the center.
Their attire was peculiar; all the men wore hats woven from bamboo strips and donned plain short jackets with vests over them. They wore wide-legged trousers tied at their ankles and black boat-shaped shoes.
Among the crowd stood a Young Man who was six feet tall, robustly built, with stubble on his face. He wore a yellowish-brown top with a black vest over it and black wide-legged trousers below.
He held something aloft in his strong arms; it appeared to be wrapped in colorful satin of seven hues.
What is it? She felt a bit puzzled.
Suddenly, the object let out a wailing cry. Ah! It was a baby in swaddling clothes.
She was taken aback, filled with confusion. Why was he holding a baby? Was he performing some sort of baptism similar to Christianity?
But as she observed the man more closely, she realized it was not the case.
The man’s face was flushed, his expression twisted in pain, his features seemed to be out of place, revealing a grotesque look.
The onlookers nearby appeared horrified, their mouths agape in shock.
Suddenly, a woman's piercing cry came from outside. A young woman in loose-fitting plain clothes stumbled in.
She wore a white short garment and a white fluffy loose long skirt, with a pale green woolen shawl draped over her shoulders. Her long hair was braided into several thick braids and pinned up at the back of her head. A beautiful hairpin adorned her hairstyle.
Due to the distance, she couldn't hear what the young woman was saying, but the woman's expression was one of deep sorrow. Finally, she fell to her knees in front of the man, gripping his wide pant legs tightly with both hands.
That woman must be the mother of the baby, she thought.
When the woman lifted her head again, looking up with a face full of tears, she clearly saw her features and couldn't help but be shocked; her blood ran cold. With an oval face, high nose, large eyes, and thin lips—wasn't that her own reflection?
Suddenly, the young man forcefully threw the baby onto the cold ground. In an instant, the baby fell silent, and everything around them became quiet.
The snow fell heavier and heavier, silently drifting down to the ground with the wind.
It felt like a long time had passed when the woman on her knees let out a heart-wrenching scream. Trembling, she picked up the child from the snow and kissed it for a long time before finally pulling out a knife from her bosom and despairingly stabbing it into her left chest.
Bright red blood seeped through her white dress and slowly spread out, staining a large patch of snow…
When Qi Luoling woke up screaming from her nightmare, she felt drenched in sweat, her chest tight with suffocation, as if a knife had pierced her heart, causing unbearable pain.
This was the second time she had this dream; the first time was before her pregnancy.
Now that she was having the same dream again, could it be because she had miscarried and lost her child?
One day in April, four months into her pregnancy, she suddenly realized that the fetus had not moved. After rushing to the hospital, the obstetrician informed her that the baby could not be saved; the heartbeat had stopped. She had to deliver the deceased child, or her own life would be at risk.
With tears streaming down her face, she delivered the baby under medication that induced uterine contractions. It was fully formed, with sparse black hair, and it was a boy...
The scenes from the dream were so vivid that they felt real, leaving her shaken and unable to calm down after waking.
According to Freud's dream analysis theory, everyone has dreams for specific reasons that can be traced back to deep psychological causes.
But she was unwilling to seek answers now. Exploring one's inner self is often not a pleasant experience. Yet she vaguely knew that this might not be an ordinary dream.
Her mental state was poor; she felt tired, and her temples throbbed in the seconds after waking. Normal sleep and dreams should not feel like this; after all, it is supposed to be rest. Freud believed that people dream largely to relieve stress and achieve better rest.
However, the memory of this dream was too clear. Not only did she vividly recall the face and expression of the woman who looked just like her, but other scenes in the dream also felt quite bizarre. For instance, the text in the dream resembled Korean, yet without any foundation in Korean language, how could she understand it? Why did the man in her dream want to kill a baby? There were also characters dressed as if they belonged to ancient Joseon Dynasty—what connection did this have to her?
Could it be that watching too many Korean dramas recently influenced her? The strange nightmare combined with discomfort upon waking evoked memories of other dreams she had experienced.
Everyone has some private matters they find hard to speak about; for her, it was dreams—accompanying her for over twenty years of bizarre nightmares.
Since reaching adulthood, the frequency of these strange and terrifying dreams had increased. But recently, she began having similar nightmares repeatedly; this was a first.
This dream had an intense sense of reality. Especially with recurring similar dreams, she couldn't help but wonder if everything she dreamed truly happened...
She thought too much and decided to stop pondering. She closed her eyes slightly and instinctively reached out beside her; the cold sheets were empty.
She then remembered that her husband, Gu Tianye, was not at home because he had told her yesterday morning that he would be on night duty.
She couldn't help but sigh. Ever since the miscarriage, her memory had not been as sharp as before, and she often forgot many things. Her body was growing weaker, feeling fatigued and powerless, with sore muscles and a pale complexion.
As she slowly opened her eyes, she noticed that the sky was beginning to brighten, enveloped in a light blue dawn, while the world remained asleep.
After sweating, she felt a chill on her damp body, so she slowly got up and walked into the bathroom in her bedroom, preparing to enjoy a warm and clean shower.
Warm mist began to rise slowly, and a layer of water vapor covered the glass in the bathroom.
After showering, she stood in front of the mirror and gently wiped away the water droplets with a towel, examining her body. Due to the hot water and the dilation of capillaries, her cheeks turned rosy, her skin was pinkish, and her eyes were unusually bright.
Looking at her beautiful features in the mirror, she was most satisfied with her nose. Unlike those around her, she had a tall nose—narrow and high—with a curved line at the tip that resembled a European nose.
As the soft towel glided over her arm, she noticed that the butterfly-shaped birthmark on her upper right arm had turned bright red and translucent, like a butterfly lying dormant within her body, ready to break through the skin and take flight at any moment.
This birthmark had been on her arm since she was born. In her childhood, it was dark blue. It only changed color when she was ill, turning golden yellow. However, after reaching adulthood, it gradually began to change color from light blue to red—from dark to bright, from hidden to blooming.
She gazed at the butterfly-like birthmark and suddenly felt an illusion that this butterfly did not belong to her body; it merely resided within her flesh. It seemed to possess its own unique soul, as if carrying secrets of the future.
Since childhood, she had always held a great interest in mysticism. The fundamental tenet of mysticism is that there exist secret or hidden natural forces in the world that can be understood and manipulated by those who comprehend them. She often doubted yet hoped that there were indeed things in this world that could not be explained by common understanding—including this butterfly bearing secrets.
After finishing her bath, she returned to the bedroom and snuggled back under the covers to continue sleeping. In this sleep, she rested soundly and didn't even notice when Gu Tianye came to bed.
It was unclear how long later when the alarm clock rang. She squinted her eyes and reached out to turn off the alarm. In her daze, she realized Gu Tianye was sleeping beside her; her mind immediately cleared as she remembered what she needed to do today: "Tianye, I'm going to my parents' house for lunch today. Do you want to come with me?"
"Mm-hmm, I'm not going. I have a meeting at the hospital at eleven," Gu Tianye mumbled as he turned over.
She opened her eyes; outside the window, it was brightening up beautifully with splendid morning glow. Today promised clear weather. She glanced at the time—it was already ten o'clock in the morning.
She hurriedly nudged Gu Tianye who was sleeping beside her, "Wake up, it's already ten o'clock. Didn't you say you had a meeting?"
Gu Tianye reluctantly opened his eyes.
She put on her robe and sat on the edge of the bed, her feet searching for her slippers.
"Ling'er," he suddenly remembered something.
"Yes, what is it?" She turned her head back.
"I... I..." He stammered, trying to figure out how to start.
"Let's talk about it this afternoon. I need to go have breakfast now, and after breakfast, I have to rush over to my mom's place." She seemed a bit distracted.
She opened the door.
"Ling'er, I have something to tell you." He sounded a bit irritated.
Her expression turned surprised as she sat back down on the edge of the bed, "Alright, what is it?"
He stared at her blankly, suddenly falling silent again.
Last night, Gu Tianye had worked late performing surgery and didn't return until early morning. He looked a bit haggard from lack of sleep. However, overall he still appeared quite handsome.
She gently stroked his face and said softly, "What's wrong?"
He suddenly sighed, "Forget it, let's talk about it when I get back tonight."
She smiled, walked out of the room, and closed the door behind her.
The lights in the living room were on, and a rich aroma of wheat wafted from the kitchen. She walked into the kitchen and saw Aunt Wang cooking Whole Grain Porridge.
Aunt Wang turned her head, "Xiao Qi, you're up? I've already set your breakfast on the dining table."
She smiled and nodded, went to the bathroom to freshen up, and returned to the dining table.
The long oval yellow Solid Wood Dining Table was surrounded by several solid wood chairs. On the table were a few slices of bread, a glass of Whole Milk, a Fruit Platter, eggs, and a cup of Dark Brown Liquid.
As soon as she sat down at the table, Aunt Wang quickly took out a shawl for her to wear, chattering, "Wear more, don’t catch a cold. You’re so weak; you need to be careful all the time."
She smiled gratefully at Aunt Wang. Indeed, her body was quite weak. It was the hot summer, with the sun shining brightly outside, yet she always felt a chill on her back, as if her muscles were painfully cold.
This must be a consequence of excessive blood loss after the miscarriage. Recently, she had visited an Old Chinese Medicine Doctor who said that her body was suffering from both Qi and blood deficiency due to the miscarriage. The Old Chinese Medicine Doctor prescribed several months' worth of Blood Nourishing and Qi Invigorating Herbal Formula and specifically advised her to rest more and maintain a regular routine.
Now she had to drink the herbal liquid that Aunt Wang prepared for her three times a day before meals. At first, she found the herbal medicine very bitter, but now she had gotten used to it and treated it like drinking water.
She gulped down the cup of herbal liquid too quickly and ended up coughing.
"Hey hey, you child, drink slowly," Aunt Wang said with both concern and mild reproach as she hurriedly handed over some tissues.
She took the tissues and covered her mouth, quickly stopping the cough.
Aunt Wang had been at her home for almost three months now. Gu Tianye had found her at the labor market; she was a woman around forty years old, very nice and hardworking. Aunt Wang treated her particularly well. She had often said with satisfaction that she cared for her as if she were her own daughter because Aunt Wang had a daughter about the same age as her.
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