Chapter 1: The Sculpture
Autumn was rainy, the air muggy, and the city shrouded in a vast expanse of rain and fog.
In the drizzling rain, Xiang Er dragged a huge suitcase, trudging along the stone-paved road, her steps heavy and uneven. The suitcase, splashed with mud and water, rolled sluggishly, emitting a dull dragging sound.
The old residential compound was filled with grey and black apartment buildings left over from more than two decades ago. Moss grew thick on the roofs, and the slippery stone paths twisted and turned. No cars could enter, forcing everyone to walk.
The old buildings of a bygone era faced each other, enclosing a few small paths, forming a world of their own. Compared to the bustling, high-rise CBD(Central Business District) just a wall away, time here seemed almost stagnant, frozen in the blurred vision of the elderly people in front of the buildings.
Xiang Er’s skin was pale, her wet, long hair framing a pair of dark eyes that always seemed bewildered. A brown cotton dress hung on her slender frame. She tried to take large strides, but she still couldn’t avoid the muddy water. The hem of her dress was soaked through, weighing heavily on her thin calves.
In front of every apartment building she passed, three or five elderly people sat or squatted. They didn’t talk, nor did they move. They just watched Xiang Er walk by, their gazes like a heavier, more oppressive rain, falling upon her head and body.
The rain gradually intensified, and the courtyard, abandoned by time, became even quieter.
Finally, she arrived. There was a cement threshold in front of the building. Xiang Er hugged the suitcase; her slender arms were truly not strong enough. But she gritted her teeth and kicked hard. The back half of the suitcase was kicked forward, while her upper body pulled with all its might.
With a thud, the suitcase landed on the ground. The threshold was cleared, but the wheel at the bottom of the suitcase was completely wrecked, rolling away.
Xiang Er had no time to care. She dragged the suitcase into the building first, placing it under the eaves to avoid the rain. Then, holding her head, she ran out to retrieve the wheel, clutching it tightly in her palm, and returned to the building entrance, braving the raindrops that had suddenly intensified like exploding firecrackers.
She exhaled and looked up at the floors. She lived on the sixth floor, with no elevator. She had to do it in one go, no resting. The more she rested, the less strength she would have.
In order to catch the cheapest flight, she hadn’t eaten breakfast. The small bread roll from the in-flight meal wasn’t filling at all. Xiang Er thought about eating instant noodles when she got home, giving herself a pep talk, whispering:
“Go!”
Her wet hand gripped the suitcase, bumping it against the steps all the way up to the sixth floor. She collapsed heavily onto the suitcase, gasping for breath.
The cramped and narrow corridor was plastered with various small advertisements, dampness seeping from every crack in the walls. Much of the paint on the walls had peeled off.
Panting, Xiang Er knocked on the door. No one answered. She reached into her pocket, pulled out the key, stood up with difficulty, and opened the door.
The sound of the television came from the old living room. Xiang Er glanced over. Her roommate was clearly on the sofa, yet hadn’t opened the door for her.
Too exhausted to speak, she dragged her suitcase towards her room. Her roommate glanced back at her, saying indifferently:
“You’re back.”
Xiang Er gave a barely audible “Mm-hmm,” found her key, opened her door, and finally stepped into her own small world.
She rented a two-bedroom apartment, and this was the guest room, old and cramped, dimly lit. The room contained only a bed, a wardrobe, and a desk, with no space for anything else. The walls and desk were bare, devoid of any decorations or ornaments, but it was relatively clean and tidy.
Xiang Er’s legs were so weak she could barely stand, and her vision darkened. But she couldn’t get into bed soaking wet. She squatted down, opened her suitcase, and rummaged inside for her pajamas.
The air was damp, Xiang Er’s body and hands were wet, and she sneezed. Suddenly, her hand grasped a cold, hard object.
What was this?
She pulled the object out and glanced at it. It was a strangely shaped sculpture. She remembered it was a small souvenir she had bought, casually placed on the table.
Having found her pajamas, Xiang Er stood by the bed and took off her wet, heavy dress.
A graceful figure, tender skin, a slender waist like a willow, long legs like a Chinese parasol tree, droplets of rain falling on her swan-like neck. Her water-beaded hair cascaded down her back, yet fine beads of sweat seeped from the dimples of her waist. It was hard to distinguish between rain and sweat, the droplets softly scattered across her snow-white skin.
Xiang Er usually covered herself in layers of clothing. No one knew that her body was so beautiful, like a lotus bud just beginning to unfurl. Although timid and tense, a captivating blush still emanated from the insides of her joints.
Still wet, Xiang Er reached for the towel on the rack.
“Ouch!”
She let out a soft cry.
Something on the rack pricked the tip of her finger, right in the middle of her index finger. Beads of blood welled up.
A soft “plop” sounded, barely audible.
A drop of blood from her fingertip landed on the sculpture.
Xiang Er withdrew her hand. It hurt. She put her fingertip in her mouth to suck, staining her lips with blood, a dazzling scarlet that made her skin appear even paler.
She put on her pajamas and walked to the desk, picking up the sculpture to examine it closely. She could have sworn she saw a drop of blood land on it just now… but now it was gone.
The sculpture was quite unique. Xiang Er had bought it from an elderly minority woman selling goods down the mountain. According to the old woman, it was a statue of their tribe’s god, and bringing it home could protect the house.
However, this so-called god statue looked quite eerie. It wasn’t humanoid; its body was a serpent, coiled and looped into a columnar shape, painted a dark red. At the top was a huge eye, surrounded by more than ten tentacles that seemed to float and sway. No matter how one looked at it, it only appeared grotesque and terrifying, not at all like a god.
The statue was made of some kind of cold, jade-like wood. Holding it in her hand didn’t impart any warmth, only making her palm gradually grow cold.
Xiang Er placed the sculpture on the table, thinking wistfully:
“I wish someone were with me. Then I’d have someone to admire the little things I buy.”
This thought, once it appeared, lingered. Xiang Er chuckled self-deprecatingly. In her current state, she could barely take care of herself, let alone have company. Companionship was a luxury in today’s society, and the kind of companionship she longed for was simply impossible.
Anyway… sleep first.
Xiang Er lay down on the bed, glancing at the sculpture one last time. The dark red paint on the sculpture was flowing, as if melted by something, moving slowly and viscously. The eyes of the sculpture seemed to gleam with an unnatural light.
However, Xiang Er had already fallen asleep.
In the small, old bedroom, the sound of the rain gradually intensified, as if the rain had soaked the entire room, or as if something enveloped in rain had entered through the window, landing on the cracked tile floor.
Amidst the sound of the rain, an invisible, imperceptible gaze fell upon Xiang Er on the bed.
Xiang Er’s well-structured face creased in discomfort, her eyebrows knitted together, her skin pale and bloodless. Her beautifully shaped lips were tightly pursed, as if she were having a bad dream. She hugged the blanket, curling herself into a ball, the posture of a fetus in the womb. She was a person who lacked a sense of security.
A black, viscous substance appeared on the floor, accumulating more and more. The sound of the rain grew rapid, frantic, and powerful, like a drumbeat, like a madman’s ritual.
The thick black liquid increased, gradually covering the entire floor, climbing up the walls and towards the ceiling.
The liquid made a rustling sound, not very noticeable amidst the drumbeat-like intensity of the rain. Eyes appeared in the black liquid, opening one after another, like those realistic toy eyes children play with, soaking in a black pool, opening, blinking, flowing along with the black liquid.
Like newborn children, the eyes looked around randomly. Some eyes moved to Xiang Er’s suitcase, filling it with the black liquid, the eyes falling inside.
More eyes appeared on the walls, the floor, the ceiling, all fixed on Xiang Er, countless eyes all staring intently at the slender girl sleeping on the bed.
The girl’s brows furrowed tightly, a whimper of discomfort escaping her lips. The eyes climbed up the bed, the black liquid spreading onto the sheets… one eye approached the girl’s pale foot.
The drumbeat grew frantically rapid, the sound intense and violent, reaching a crescendo…
“Xiang Er! Come out!”
Someone banged heavily on the door.
Xiang Er opened her eyes.
In that instant, the drumbeat of rain, the black liquid, the eyes, all vanished, as if they had never existed.
The room was as cramped and damp as usual. Xiang Er coughed, her eardrums buzzing.
Being woken up right after falling asleep wasn’t a pleasant experience. Xiang Er dragged herself out of bed, opened the door, and saw her roommate’s furious face.
Her roommate held up a high heel:
“What’s wrong with you? Didn’t you know to wipe the mud off before coming in? Now there’s mud and water everywhere you’ve walked, even on my high heels! Those are brand name, over two hundred kuai a pair. You have to pay for them, you know!”
Xiang Er dully glanced at the high heels. There were indeed some mud spots on the sides. Her voice hoarse, she said:
“I… cough, cough, I’ll brush them clean for you…”
Her roommate’s nostrils flared:
“I knew it, you’re not raised with parents, no common sense at all. These shoes need to be dry-cleaned. You think you can just brush them…”
Xiang Er felt as if she’d been pricked by a needle, a sudden pang in her heart. She was an orphan, but she had only told her roommate this to befriend her. She never imagined it would become ammunition for insults.
But something was wrong with her roommate. Her words seemed to be abruptly cut off. Her eyes widened, staring at something behind Xiang Er, an indescribable terror and shock in her eyes, as if she had seen the most terrifying thing in her life.
Her roommate’s lips trembled uncontrollably, the high heel falling from her hand. A strange gurgling sound came from her throat:
“Gurgle… you… gurgle…”
Her roommate’s eyes remained wide, but her body turned and she walked away step by step, like a marionette, her movements stiff and unnatural.
Xiang Er looked at the high heels on the floor:
“Your shoes…”
She received no answer. Her roommate had disappeared from her sight, the strange “gurgling” sound echoing from a distance.
So strange… perhaps this kind of weather made people irritable. Xiang Er closed the door, kicked off her slippers, and lay back on the bed. Almost the instant her eyes closed, she fell back into a dream.
She was clearly aware that she was dreaming.
Dark, sticky liquid surged from all directions, like a never-ending river, a pool whose source was indescribable. The stuff appeared from nowhere, seeping into the floor and walls, permeating every crack, extending out from under the door, reaching towards places unknown.
Countless eyes opened, looking around in confused bewilderment. Xiang Er looked at those eyes, their dark red pupils clearly holding an inhuman, cold scrutiny.
She looked at the eyes. The eyes looked back at her, dozens of them at once, their gazes inhuman, viscous, wanting to flay her skin, crush her bones, and suck her marrow.
Xiang Er sat on the bed. She saw some of the black liquid flow to the edge of the bed and transform into a tentacle. The thing was rough and uneven, with suspicious dark red suckers, stretching longer and longer.
Like the tentacle of an octopus, or the tail of a serpent, smooth-surfaced, swimming towards her from the viscous blackness.
Under Xiang Er’s terrified gaze…
The tentacle-like thing, slowly, inexorably, beginning at her ankle, wrapped around her body, coil by coil, inch by inch.
From her feet to her head, tightly bound, airtight like a dark red mummy, as Xiang Er’s consciousness was submerged in the cold, viscous blackness…
“Ah!”
She screamed and woke up, gasping for breath.
The room was clean and tidy, as usual.
Was it… really just a dream?
Xiang Er gasped like a drowning person, her chest heaving like a bellows, causing a dull ache. She smelled a fishy odor, a damp, clinging, bewildering stench.
She looked at the sculpture. Its eyes were fixed on her, and in those wooden, dark red eyes, there flickered an inhuman light.
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