Liu Wu Dai glanced at his three companions and said, "Before I begin, may I ask the current time? The year, month, and day."

"Huh?"

The group leader, startled, exchanged a look with the boy beside him, who glanced at his watch and said lazily, "It's June 25th, 1984, 8:30 p.m. Why do you ask?"

"It's nothing."

Liu Wu Dai shook his head. This must be when Fushen Pingyuan was sixteen years old, roughly seven years after the period Wanli Fengdao experienced.

The four strangled corpses in the compartment, the rice-cake figures in the fields, the procession of monsters escorting the headless girl in the white kimono, and now these three faceless classmates before him... What on earth had happened to this Fushen Pingyuan?

"Well then, I'll start."

Liu Wu Dai picked up the manuscript Fushen Pingyuan had placed in his palm and, by the candlelight, read:

"I'm terrified of boxes. Open ones are manageable, but closed ones fill me with dread. It's probably because of an experience I had as a child.

"One night, my cousin Xiu Lai and I, both the same age, snuck into our grandmother's warehouse for an adventure. Inside the warehouse were all sorts of things: ancient armor, worn-out farm tools, dulled knives, and items like bamboo baskets and stools. We explored for a while but found the air too dusty to breathe comfortably, so we decided to leave.

"As we searched for a way out, we found a square box on top of a Five Dou Cupboard. The box was about half a meter on each side, made of wood, and decorated with beautiful maki-e designs that seemed out of place in the dirty, messy warehouse. Xiu Lai and I felt drawn to the box. We took it down, placed it on the ground, and lifted the lid.

"Inside, we found a smaller, identical box. Opening that one revealed an even smaller box. Just like Russian nesting dolls, Xiu Lai and I thought. We opened them all, one by one, discovering writing on the bottom of each outer box.

"Looking closely, we saw that each outer box had a body part written on its underside: 'Skin,' 'Nails,' 'Hair,' 'Limbs,' 'Kidneys'... An unsettling chill ran through me, but by then, the urge to open every last box was overwhelming.

"Finally, we reached the last box. It was only about five centimeters square, thoughtfully labeled with the character for 'End' on its lid, while the bottom read 'Heart.' After we opened the box, there was a folded piece of paper inside. Disappointed, Xiu Lai and I unfolded the paper. It read: 'All items listed above will be collected soon.' Below that was my younger sister's name, Jie Yue.

"Soon after, my younger sister, Jie Yue, disappeared. The adults said she'd been spirited away in the mountains, but I knew something had taken her... and her head was gone. Because among all those boxes, the only word that never appeared was 'Head'..."

Headless...

The headless girl in the white kimono, escorted by the procession of monsters, and the rice-cake figure whose head had inexplicably snapped off... The images flashed through Liu Wu Dai's mind.

The other three companions listening to this strange tale seemed extremely uncomfortable, their bodies fidgeting. More than the bizarre, eerie nature of the ghost story itself, it was Liu Wu Dai's cold, detached recitation—his utter indifference to the world around him—that unsettled his companions.

However, the story on Fushen Pingyuan's manuscript continued.

"Next, I am going to tell another ghost story."

Liu Wu Dai read from the text: "When I was a child visiting the countryside, my cousin Xiu Lai and I often played in the fields. One evening, we sensed an unusual atmosphere.

"'Strange, why has such a warm wind suddenly started blowing?' he remarked, looking toward the distant fields. Far off, we could just make out something like a scarecrow at the other end of the field.

"The white figure was stationary, yet it twisted and turned with the wind. Xiu Lai said it might be a new kind of scarecrow someone had put out, one designed to move with the breeze.

"As he spoke, the wind around us died down, but the white 'scarecrow' in the distance continued to twist. Without wind, a scarecrow couldn't possibly move on its own. Besides, its contortions were too extreme for any normal person.

"Driven by curiosity, Xiu Lai decided to use binoculars to get a clear look at what it really was. Since the binoculars were his, I had to wait for him to look first.

"At that moment, I suddenly noticed a change in Xiu Lai. His face turned deathly pale. He broke out in a cold sweat and began to tremble violently, the binoculars dropping from his hand.

"I quickly picked up the binoculars. Just as I was about to look through them, my dad rushed out and stopped me. 'Don't look! You mustn't look at that thing!'

"Dad cried, urgently asking if I'd seen it. When I said no, he sighed in relief and hurried Xiu Lai and me back home. I found it strange. Xiu Lai, usually so lively, was silent the entire way home, the look of terror and despair on his face unwavering.

"Once home, Xiu Lai started laughing maniacally, his body twisting unnaturally, just like the thing in the field. Up close, the fear he radiated was even more intense.

"Grandma appeared and sighed. 'Xiu Lai saw it, didn't he?'

"So, Grandma told my uncle that Xiu Lai's condition was beyond what a regular hospital could treat. They decided he should stay in the countryside, to be cared for by the old folks, because even if he went back home, he could never be a normal child again.

"Since then, whenever I thought of Xiu Lai, I felt very sad. Later, I sometimes heard talk of something called the 'Scarecrow God.' Legend had it that in ancient times, when people suffered from mental illnesses that doctors couldn't treat, villagers would tie the afflicted to scarecrows in the fields. These people, desperate to escape, would writhe and twist with all their strength, but ultimately, they were abandoned by the villagers and left to their fate in the fields.

"Xiu Lai had probably seen the legendary 'Scarecrow God'."

The ghost story finally ended. Liu Wu Dai looked at his three companions, only to find that the other three were suddenly stiff and motionless. The candlelight in the center of the floor also seemed to solidify, utterly still.

A sense of foreboding washed over Liu Wu Dai. He heard cries ringing in his ears—"He's awake! Doctor! He's awake!"—as his consciousness was dragged upward, back into that pitch-black space.

This time, it was Li Ang who was responsible for opening the eyes of Fushen Pingyuan's body.

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