The sound outside the door wasn't loud, and Wan Qian was sleeping soundly. She vaguely heard some noise, turned over, and fell back asleep.
However, the people in the other rooms were awake. None of them were fools; with the sounds coming from outside and the strange atmosphere, they all immediately realized something was wrong. No one dared to open the door.
The sound went to every room, knocking at each door, but no one came out, and it sighed in disappointment.
"Ah—what a pity, a marvelous show wasted..." The voice dragged out, high-pitched, neither male nor female, eerie and strange.
Just when everyone thought the voice would leave, a gong rang out, followed by the sound of a suona playing a high-pitched tune, and the eerie notes of an erhu filling the air.
The half-male, half-female voice began to sing:
"The years of ruin and desolation, no harvest to be had, hurrying to escape the mountains. The distant food cannot be seen, while the villagers cry in desperation, unable to survive.
Year after year of drought and sorrow, the crops withered, no smoke rising from the chimneys, every house without rice or firewood. Skeletons scattered, no one to bury them, the wastelands filled with disaster. The tree bark and grass roots are all consumed, the years of suffering are hard to endure!
Children cling to each other, tears flowing, while on the bed, parents become corpses. Once, spouses loved as deeply as the ocean—how could they now treat each other as if they were mere dishes to be served?"
The lyrics were full of sorrow and despair, drifting on the night wind, faintly heard through the doors.
Fang Minglan, remembering the rules, kept her eyes closed, pretending the sound didn't exist.
Meanwhile, inside Wan Qian's room, something began to change. From the dark beams of the ceiling, a head slowly descended.
Its entire body was covered in jet-black feathers. Yet, to call it a head was hardly accurate—it was more like a grotesque mass of crimson blood vessels, tightly knotted into a bizarre, spherical shape.
Those vessels pulsed rhythmically, as if imbued with life, throbbing like a beating heart, tirelessly pumping blood to sustain the eerie form.
Sensing Wan Qian's presence, the creature edged closer to the bed. The warm blood vessels brushed against her cheek, slowly secreting a glistening, sticky fluid, like saliva left behind after seeing something delicious.
Feeling an itch, Wan Qian reached out to scratch her cheek and brushed aside the blood vessel that had crept onto her skin.
But the vessel pulsated continuously and reached out toward her face once more. This time, it wasn't just one. All the blood vessels reached out toward her, wrapping around her.
An indescribable heaviness settled over her body, and Wan Qian finally awoke.
In the pitch darkness of the room, she couldn't see clearly—only a vague sensation that several wet, slippery, elongated objects were wriggling on her body.
Snakes! Wan Qian immediately came to this conclusion. Startled, she let out a piercing shriek and leaped from the bed.
The blood vessels continued to reach for her. Wan Qian grabbed one of the long, wriggling objects on her body and yanked it off, throwing it to the ground and stomping on it with all her might.
She was terrified of snakes. Screaming, she closed her eyes and stamped her feet, stomping furiously. It was terrifying! Too terrifying!!
She should have expected this—how could a rural village not have snakes, insects, and rodents? Wan Qian regretted it so much. If she had known, she had agreed to have the butler accompany her!
Beneath her feet, each blood vessel writhed in agony, only to be crushed and burst, sending splashes of warm blood onto her foot.
The creature let out a sharp, piercing wail that mingled with Wan Qian's own screams, making it impossible to tell which sound belonged to whom.
Wan Qian stomped harder, and soon, a pool of blood spread beneath her feet. The thing recoiled in terror, retreating to the beams above and curling into itself in fear.
It was unclear how much time passed, but eventually, everything grew quiet. Wan Qian stood in the darkness, breathing heavily. She was utterly terrified—thankfully, no snake had bitten her.
Just as she was about to climb back into bed, she suddenly heard the singing outside.
The voice, which had first been distant, gradually grew closer, becoming clearer until it stopped right outside her door. It seemed as if the performer was standing just outside, behind the door, expressionlessly singing for her.
At this late hour, was there anyone still awake? Wan Qian froze for a moment, then touched her stomach. She hadn't eaten much all day, and after the recent ordeal, she suddenly felt a little hungry.
That's when Wan Qian remembered the rabbit she had brought into the village, which she hadn't eaten yet. She nearly forgot about it, and if she didn't handle it soon, it would spoil.
Wan Qian walked toward the door. The singing voice outside seemed to sense her approach and gradually fell silent. Though neither could see the other through the door, both felt the presence of the other.
Hao Shijun in the neighboring room had heard the commotion coming from Wan Qian's room at the very first moment something went wrong.
Damn! Hao Shijun realized that when Fang Minglan and Wan Qian switched rooms, something must have been noticed, leading to Wan Qian's current predicament. However, he couldn't help her, and could only silently hope Wan Qian could get through this.
As the sounds in Wan Qian's room quieted, Hao Shijun finally relaxed, but then he heard the singing grow closer again. At the same time, he realized the singer had stopped right outside Wan Qian's door.
"Don't open the door, don't respond!" Hao Shijun desperately urged in his mind, praying that Wan Qian could escape this ordeal.
Meanwhile, Fang Minglan, curled up under the blanket in another room, quietly curled the corners of her lips. Wan Qian's room was unusually noisy—apparently, that thing on the beam was active.
Now, there was an ghost or monster inside the room and one outside. How would Wan Qian choose?
Fang Minglan wasn't entirely sure what these ghosts or monsters were, but as long as they could deal with Wan Qian, it would be enough.
After all, it was Wan Qian who had heard what she shouldn't have in the forest. Even if it was a tiny threat, Fang Minglan wanted to eliminate it.