I was completely confused. The old lady had a vice-like grip and dragged me all the way to the rear door.
"What are you doing?! I was sitting in front of you the whole time—how could I have stolen anything? Did you even see me leave my seat?" I tried to defend myself, but she wouldn't listen.
"It was you! I saw it clear as day—it was you! A grown man, stealing like that!" She dragged me to the door. "Let's go to the police right now!"
I was utterly baffled, mistaken for a thief and forcibly dragged off the bus by the old woman.
Watching the bus slowly pull away into the distance, I gave a helpless laugh.
"Ma'am, I swear I'm not a thief. Search me if you want—I've got nothing on me."
She panted heavily, eyes on the disappearing tail lights of Route 14.
"I know you're a good person," she finally said. "It's because you're a good person that I wanted to save your life."
"What do you mean?"
"Just now, the wind blew open the mourning clothes of those people boarding the bus… Guess what I saw underneath?" Her voice dropped to a whisper, mysterious and evasive.
I instinctively asked,
"What did you see?"
"They're not human!" The wrinkles on her face bunched together as she muttered,
"Underneath those mourning robes—they had no legs!"
"No… no way."
I hadn't expected this street-savvy auntie to be so observant. I'd been watching those funeral people from the start, but even with my background in forensic training, I hadn't noticed anything unusual.
"Could it be a trick of the angle?"
She was closer to them, while I'd only seen them through my phone's camera.
"Doesn't matter. I'm not asking for thanks—just get me home, alright?"
Now that we were off the bus, her demeanor completely changed. She wasn't just acting strange—she'd become almost mystical.
There was no point chasing after the bus now. I gave a resigned nod.
"Where do you live? This area's pretty remote."
"Easy to find, easy to find. Just follow me, don't stray too far, and keep your head down while walking."
We headed north along the road. Not long after, we heard a woman's desperate cries for help. I was about to run over.
"Don't get involved! Keep moving!"
The old woman's face turned stern, barking the order.
I hesitated.
"That doesn't feel right… it sounds like that couple who got off earlier."
"I said keep walking! Meddling in other people's business will only get you killed."
She grabbed my arm and dragged me forward with shocking strength—stronger than most grown men.
"No. I need to check it out."
The woman's cries were getting louder, more desperate. It was like someone was chasing her with a knife.
I shook the old woman's hand off and ran toward the sound.
The ground was uneven. Wild chrysanthemum branches scratched my legs, stinging with pain.
"Hey! Are you alright?!"
I burst through a patch of bushes and saw, in the darkness, a woman lying in a pool of blood. I rushed over without hesitation.
I reached down to check her breath—she wasn't breathing.
"Dead?"
Maybe it was habit from my line of work, but I automatically began inspecting the body. Oddly, there were no visible wounds. But her neck was blackened, with ligature marks suggesting she'd been strangled.
"Then where did all this blood come from?"
Trembling, I looked ahead—just a few meters away, a man lay beside a mound of earth, riddled with stab wounds.
"So he's the one who died… then—"
"Watch out!"
The old woman suddenly shoved me hard.
Right where I'd been kneeling, a gleaming fruit knife was now stabbed into the dirt.
Still in shock, I turned around. The woman—who had clearly stopped breathing just seconds ago—was now twisting her neck and slowly crawling upright.
"You're… not dead?"
"She's been dead for years. Her body probably reeks by now."
The old woman stood between me and the crawling figure, her tone protective—but her grip on my arm tightened, more like she was afraid I would run away.
The woman didn't seem disappointed that her sneak attack had failed. She grinned darkly.
"And you dare to judge me? Your own son abandoned your grave—you've got no home either."
"Shut up!"
The old woman's nails dug painfully into my arm.
"Don't be afraid. I'll take you home. Once we're inside, those wandering ghosts won't be able to find you!"
Their exchange sent chills down my spine. I was done.
"Ma'am, I don't think I'll be escorting you home after all. You two enjoy your chat—I'll see myself out."
I tried to pull away, but her hand wouldn't budge. It felt fused to my skin—her grip was inhumanly tight.
"Don't go! We're almost there—come sit a while, come sit a while!"
The more warmly she invited me, the more terrified I felt.
I gripped my phone tight and shoved her away with all my strength.
Staggering backward, I stared at her. My voice was hoarse:
"Ma'am… where exactly is your home?"
She'd kept her back to me this whole time. Now her head tilted unnaturally—like it might fall off at any moment—and whipped around violently.
"Just past that grave—you'll see it."
"Grave?"
I looked closer. The "mound of earth" that the man had been lying beside earlier—wasn't a dirt pile at all. It was an unmarked, solitary grave.
I turned and bolted. My body moved on instinct, desperate to escape those two horrifying women.
"Don't go! Come sit with me! Once you're home with me, the ghosts can't follow!"
Her voice was warped, mournful and terrifying in the night wind. I didn't dare look back. I scrambled into the dark.
My pants tore. I lost a shoe. My feet bled, but I didn't stop. I had no idea how long I ran. Time had lost all meaning.
All I could hear was my own ragged breath. Exhausted, I collapsed.
"Done running?"
I looked up—and turned pale.
Perched atop the grave just meters ahead was someone… no, I was sure now. It was a ghost.
The middle-aged woman who had dragged me off the bus approached, holding a stone.
"A life for a life. Kill to atone for the Ten Evils."
Crack!
The stone came down. The world spun. My chest burned. My heart pounded violently.
When I opened my eyes again, the grave, the wild chrysanthemums, the ghosts—everything was gone. All that remained was the warm glow of burning paper.
A fire rose in front of me. A woman's mournful cries echoed in the night. I blinked in confusion and stepped back.
"What the hell just happened?"
I was standing on a wide road. Across the street, an old woman was burning paper offerings in an iron basin.
"Wait… was all that a dream?"
The cigarette in my hand hadn't even burned halfway. I looked around—I was still at the Route 14 bus stop outside Miyun Mansion.
A glance at my watch—it wasn't even midnight yet.
"That can't be… it all felt so real."
"The livestream!"
I pulled out my phone.
"Guys, serious question—did I get on a bus just now? Did anyone see a bunch of drunk construction workers or a group of people in mourning clothes?"
"Streamer's back to ghost stories again."
"Great acting, so realistic."
"Standing ovation! Oscar-worthy performance!"
Liu Banxian from Qingcheng Mountain:
"Young friend, are you well? I saw you standing motionless by the road for nearly half a stick of incense's time."
As soon as Liu Banxian showed up in the chat, I breathed a sigh of relief.
"If even Banxian saw me zoning out, then maybe I really was under some kind of trance."
I checked my pants and shoes—no tears, no blood.
"It really was a dream? But it felt way too vivid…"
Then I reached into the inner pocket of my jacket—where I kept my talismans—and froze.
It was a pocket reserved just for paper charms. I'd had six Lesser Talismans tucked there. Now only four remained—two had turned to ash.
Mouth open, I didn't know what to say.
"Talismans… self-immolated?"
Seeing that Liu Banxian was still active in the stream, I quickly told him everything I'd just experienced.
Liu Banxian from Qingcheng Mountain:
"From what you describe, this was no ordinary dream. It felt more like a destined evasion of calamity. Perhaps… a hidden master was protecting you?"
"Don't joke like that. The only master I know is Liu the Blind, and he's always running from city inspectors."
I shook the ashes out of my pocket and described the burned talismans' shape and patterns as best I could.
"Banxian, do you think that whole dream was connected to these two destroyed charms?"
He was silent for a long time before sending a new message.
Liu Banxian from Qingcheng Mountain:
"Strange! Very strange! If your account is true, I am 80% certain that what you had were a rare secret pair known as the Mother-Child Talismans, once used only by the Little Zhuang Temple. The Child Talisman links souls—it guides one into the dream. The Mother Talisman anchors the spirit—within the dream, it leads one through disaster."
"Soul-linking and dream-binding?"