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墨書 Inktalez
When the footsteps faded away, Qiluo Ling finally put her heart back in her chest, but the unpleasant sound of those footsteps seemed to linger in her ears.
Qiluo Ling listened carefully once more and indeed heard nothing. She gathered her courage and resolutely took action, opening the study door and shouting hoarsely towards the stairs, "Who’s there?" There was no response, only her voice echoing in the empty corridor.
Qiluo Ling had always believed that a person's voice should have a strong exorcising power when they are alone in seclusion. However, this was all in vain; instead of receiving any response, her unanswered shout only heightened her sense of fear.
As she turned around to return to the study, she discovered that the study door was closed. She clearly remembered not closing it when she left.
Her heart raced a little, worried that her escape route was blocked, so she forcefully pushed the door open. Fortunately, the study door was not locked.
Upon entering the study, she locked the door behind her and sat there dazed, letting time pass slowly. Finally, she managed to wait until Madam Carolina and her group returned to the estate by carriage.
Qiluo Ling hurried to the entrance of the hall on the first floor to greet them.
"Miss Qi, are you feeling unwell?" Madam Carolina asked with concern as she looked at Qiluo Ling's pale face.
"I am feeling a bit better."
"Are you sick?"
"No. I wanted to ask you, Madam. After you left in the afternoon, was I really alone in the estate?"
"Of course, I can assure you of that," Madam Carolina said, looking at her in surprise. "What’s wrong?"
"Nothing, I was just asking."
Qiluo Ling pondered; if she was truly alone in the estate, then whose footsteps were those? Could it have been a hallucination after drinking honey wine?
Soon it was time for dinner; it was still the same dining table, but the main dishes had changed to traditional Polish dumplings and potato dishes. Two pairs of slender silver candlesticks were placed on the table, with white candles lit atop them. The candles burned exceptionally bright, giving the entire dining room a special ambiance.
The candle flickered in front of her, with no wind to disturb it; the flame did not tremble at all. After staring for a long time, she suddenly noticed that the shadow cast by the flame on the wall resembled a person quietly standing there. A gentle breeze passed by, and the flame quivered weakly, causing the figure to vanish suddenly.
After dinner, Qiluo Ling felt a bit tired and returned to her bedroom to rest.
The next day, she woke up late; the hands of her watch pointed to nine o'clock, and the beautiful morning had already passed.
Qiluo Ling went downstairs, and after breakfast, Madam Carolina suggested they set off for Mr. Berland-Mais's grave.
Qiluo Ling nodded.
The two walked out of the park and headed deeper into the forest. Madam Carolina led her along a narrow path through the dense woods.
Madam Carolina was very familiar with this forest; everywhere was covered with dark green leaves that concealed the ground. If it weren't for her leading the way, Qiluo Ling would not have noticed this hidden path in the woods. As they walked along the forest trail, their footsteps crunched on the fallen leaves and twigs.
The forest was tranquil and deep, with tall trees blocking out the sky. The overlapping leaves turned sunlight into a green hue, like arrows piercing down through the gaps.
The air was fresh with a unique earthy scent, occasionally accompanied by the melodious chirping of birds. Many tree trunks were adorned with long, fine moss that resembled a woman's flowing dress, swaying gently in the breeze. The forest path rose and fell, sometimes flat and sometimes steep; walking here felt like traversing a green time tunnel.
Qiluo Ling had no idea how long they had been walking but felt as if she had never seen so many trees before. The endless expanse of green stretched ahead, seemingly without end. Beams of light filtering through the leaves swept past her eyes.
Madam Carolina was experienced and had likely walked this route countless times, so her steps were agile and light. In contrast, Qiluo Ling had never walked on mountain paths before; her balance was weak, and she struggled with the uneven ground beneath her feet. Soon enough, Madam Carolina was far ahead of her.
However, at this point, Madam Carolina would always stop to wait for her. When the path became difficult to navigate, she would extend her hand to help Qiluo Ling over obstacles.
After an unknown amount of time had passed, Madam Carolina said, "We're almost there."
Qiluo Ling sighed in relief and checked the time; they had been walking for about forty minutes.
Finally, they arrived at a lawn—it was their destination.
This is a large lawn, surrounded by trees in a circular formation. Strangely, there isn't a single tree on this lawn. The sunlight shines directly down, and the tender green grass glimmers. Various narrow-leaved and broad-leaved grasses grow on the ground, and as the gentle breeze blows, it seems as if she can hear the joyful laughter of the grass.
In front of the lawn stands a massive ancient tree, silent like a centenarian. Its trunk is thick and gnarled, requiring several people to encircle it. The roots of the ancient tree are covered in moss, and many beard-like lichen hang from its trunk. A few unknown small birds chirp melodiously in the tree.
Under the tree are two black tombstones. One is the tombstone of Berland Mice, with his name inscribed on it. The other tombstone is blank. The raised nameless grave adds a touch of melancholy to passersby.
Madam Carolina carefully places two bouquets of pure white flowers in front of the two tombstones, then stands up and stands side by side with Qiluo Ling, silently gazing at the tombstones for a while.
"Who is the tombstone next to it for?" Qiluo Ling asks curiously.
"I don't know either. When I came to this estate, that tombstone was already there," Madam Carolina replies softly.
"Oh, didn't Mr. Berland-Mais ever mention who he was?"
"No, he never spoke about it. Every autumn, he would come to this tombstone and stay for half a day."
"Oh, does Mr. Berland-Mais have no wife or children?"
"No, he has always been single."
At this moment, the sky begins to darken; the brilliant sunlight has vanished without a trace. Occasionally, a bird flies by overhead, its sharp call echoing in the vast emptiness around. Only in front of the tombstones can the living gain some insight into life—whether about themselves or others.
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