Passerby: Secret Image of Ancient Scrolls

The wild beast walked step by step on the floor of the wooden house. The trap was right in front of the white deer, its teeth bared, waiting for it.

It saw it. It knew it.

But it didn't stop. It kept its eyes fixed on the white deer, Su Jin's evil aura causing it unbearable pain.

The pure body of the white deer can relieve the pain in its soul; only the white deer can, and its eyes are only for the white deer.

It no longer cared about anything else; it could only possess the white deer's body to dispel the evil energy within it, even though a giant animal trap lay before it.

It walked towards the white deer, towards the gaping trap, whose teeth gleamed coldly, as did its own.

"Snap..." The iron teeth bit into its leg, and blood splattered out, not red, but black. It didn't stop.

It dragged the trap along. Its iron teeth gnawed at the flesh, its bones creaked, and it left a long, dark trail on the wooden floor. It didn't stop.

The intense pain in his body brought some relief to his soul, which was tormented by evil energy.

The net was right in front of them, held taut by three people.

It saw it.

It knew. It didn't stop. It crashed in. The net entangled its body, its legs, and its still-bleeding wounds.

The three men were pulled forward, staggering. But they didn't let go. The beast didn't stop. It dragged the trap, the net, and the three men, step by step, toward the white deer.

That fire was burning. It burned through its pupils, burned through its reason, burned through everything it remembered.

It no longer remembers the forest, the white deer, or the people who hung colorful ribbons on the trees to pray for it. It only remembers the pain.

It hurt for many years, I waited for many years, I endured for many years. It was too painful.

The white deer stood there, motionless. Its antlers drooped, its eyes fixed on the beasts, on the fire, on the blood. It did not retreat. It was not afraid. It remembered. Long, long ago, before humans had even learned to speak, they were already in this forest.

It remembered how gentle the fire in the beast's eyes was before it ignited. Now the fire is burning, and it's still waiting. It's waiting for it to remember. Waiting for the fire to go out. Waiting for it to return.

"Pull the net!" Ye Zhuo roared, and the three of them pulled back together. The net tightened even more, digging into the beast's flesh and into its cracked scales.

The beast didn't stop. It took a step forward. The three people were then pulled forward again.

Old Gu's hands were trembling, Ao Luya's hands were trembling, and Ye Zhuo's hands were also trembling.

Ye Zhuo didn't loosen her grip. She stared at the beast, at the flame, at the white deer's calm eyes. She couldn't let go. If she did, the white deer would be gone.

The killer huddled in the corner made a move. He struggled, the rope digging into his wrists and drawing blood. He shouted, "Let me go, I'll pull you down too!" Ye Zhuo didn't turn around. She didn't know if he was acting. "Let me go!" he shouted again, the voice sounding familiar.

Ye Zhuo hesitated for a moment. Then she squatted down and untied the ropes binding his hands.

The assassin crawled out of the darkness, the candlelight illuminating his face. She saw his eyes. There was something unspeakable in those eyes.

He saw her too. His lips moved, but no sound came out. Neither of them spoke.

Ye Zhuo's whole body trembled involuntarily.

That assassin was Xiao Yuan.

She couldn't possibly be mistaken; it was just that Xiao Yuan, who had joined the army, had become an assassin sent to kill her.

He kept communicating with himself, saying that he was doing well in the army.

After Grandpa passed away, Xiao Yuan often visited her home, and they lived together for several years. She was the older sister to him. She transformed this "bad kid" into an excellent soldier.

She absolutely trusted Xiao Yuan, even though he was now an assassin and wanted to kill her, there must be some reason for it.

Thinking of all this, she loosened her grip for a moment, and the beast took advantage of the lapse in tension to move forward another step.

Old Gu and Ao Luya were calling her, but she couldn't hear anything. The wild beast continued to move forward, about to touch the white deer's head.

Ye Zhuo jolted awake, tightly wrapping one hand around her wrist several times, while pulling out a dagger with the other and throwing it at Xiao Yuan.

Xiao Yuan shuffled insidiously across the floor, his bound hands finally reaching the dagger. He cut the ropes, stood up, grabbed the net, and pulled back. He didn't run. He was pulling the net. Old Gu and Ao Luya glanced at him, then at Ye Zhuo.

They didn't know who he was, why Ye Zhuo had untied his ropes, or why he was helping them. They were just pulling.

The beast was still walking. The trap was still on its leg, the net was still on its body, and the three men and the assassin were still pulling at it from behind. It didn't stop. It put its arm around the white deer's shoulder and reached for its neck.

The fingernails dug into the white deer's mane and flesh. Blood dripped down the white deer's neck, staining the snow a glaring red.

The white deer did not move. It simply stood there, calmly watching the beast.

It doesn't hurt. It knows it doesn't hurt. It's just hurting for it.

That was its former companion, the oldest companion in this forest.

A massive, dark current crashed down from the fifth-floor window. Like a waterfall, like someone had poured a basin of ink from the sky, cascading down towards the large drone.

Xiao Bu could see it clearly on the screen. His fingers flew across the remote control, and the drone suddenly descended, skimming the ground, heading towards the light in front of the car headlights. The light moved, and the evil tide chased after it. The buzzing of the rotors mingled with the churning of the black tide, like a swarm of moths startled by the light.

"Screech..." The van's tires screeched against the ground at breakneck speed as Lu Ye floored the accelerator. The team members, sitting inside the van, were pressed tightly against their backs by the force of the acceleration. The beams of their flashlights darted wildly in the darkness, illuminating through the windows those semi-transparent faces without features, those still churning black tides, and the silhouette of President Li rushing ahead.

The team members pointed their flashlights outwards, the beams cutting into the darkness, but it was only a drop in the ocean, barely dispelling the scattered, empty light.

There wasn't enough light. Only the car headlights, a few flashlights, and that drone.

The evil tide surged in from all directions, like a tide, like a swarm of ants.

They surrounded the crowd, the bread cart, and the large drone still swaying in the air. They were waiting. Waiting for the light to go out.

Mr. Li, who was running ahead, laughed even louder. Hehehe, hehehehehe.

The eerie laughter erupted from that cluster of Saturn's rings. Around him, faceless figures gathered together, circling in circles, like planetary rings, like Van Gogh's Starry Night, spinning, churning, and growing in the darkness.

His stomach was bulging, as if something was pushing against his body. The evil currents surged from Saturn's rings into his wounds, into his blood vessels, into his internal organs. He was swelling.

His clothes ripped open, buttons flew off to the floor, and veins bulged on his stomach, like tree roots, like blood vessels, like something crawling beneath his skin. He was laughing. Hehehe, hehehehehehe.

The evil tide converged into three giant waves, crashing in different directions. One slammed into the van's headlights, another into the drone in the air, and the third surged into Mr. Li's Saturnian rings. The headlights rattled and creaked, and tiny cracks appeared on the glass, as if something was trying to squeeze out from inside.

With each crash of the giant wave, a portion dissipated, the black mist evaporating in the light, emitting white smoke like dried-up water. But they were unafraid. Like moths to a flame, they knew they would die, yet they still rushed towards it.

They want that lamp to go out. If it goes out, there will be nothing left.

The drone was tossed about, swaying violently. A surge of evil energy crashed in from where the light couldn't reach, slamming against the propellers, the fuselage, and the still-spinning parts. A propeller broke off, the fuselage tilted, and the light began to flicker. Flickering, like a candle flame about to go out.

Xiao Bu's finger paused on the remote control for a moment, just a moment. He didn't let go. He steadied the drone, steadied the still-flashing light, and steadied the people still waiting below.

Mr. Li's Saturn rings grew thicker and faster. Faceless figures spun around him, round and round, without interfering with each other, like planetary orbits, like intricate gears, like a silent dance choreographed in the darkness. Surrounded by this malevolent tide, the rotation appeared increasingly eerie.

Those faces were laughing. Hehehe, hehehehehe. Lu Ye stared at President Li, at the still-expanding Saturnian rings, at his still-bulging belly.

Mr. Li's belly stopped. Not that it stopped swelling, but that it had reached its limit. Saturn's rings also stopped spinning, not that they stopped spinning, but that they had reached their maximum rotation. Those faceless faces were pressed against his body, against his belly, against the corners of his still-smiling mouth.

They stopped moving. They were waiting. Then Mr. Li took a deep breath. Not with his nose, but with his mouth. His mouth opened wide, to an angle no living person could do, wide enough to resemble those empty faces, wide enough to look like a black hole.

Time stood still for a moment. After that moment, Mr. Li opened his mouth wide towards the drone, and a stream of water shot out from his mouth.

It wasn't water, it was a black tide. It was the evil tide that had seeped into him.

It lunged at the drone at incredible speed, so fast that the drone couldn't dodge in time, and Lu Ye only had time to shout "Oh no!" Xiao Bu reacted quickly, maneuvering the drone to swerve sharply to the left.

The jet of water struck the drone's propellers, breaking two of them off. The drone shook violently, and its lights flickered on and off. A hissing sound rang out.

The evil tide seized the opportunity to surround the drone, causing it to spin and the turbulent air currents churned it, making it about to crash.

Xiao Bu stared at the remote control screen, watching the drone teetering precariously in the sky, watching the flickering light, watching the darkness surge back in. His hands gripped the levers tightly to maintain his balance.

Lu Ye's flashlight was still on, the team members' flashlights were still on, and the van's headlights were still on.

But the light was not enough. An evil tide surged up from all directions, from above, from below, and from those faceless people.

They were laughing. Hehehe, hehehehehe. Lu Ye gripped his flashlight tightly, the beam cutting into the darkness and forcing back the empty face at the front. But more surged up from behind, wave after wave, an endless stream.

He couldn't back down. Mr. Li, consumed by the evil tide, was right ahead. He floored the accelerator. The van shot off, leaving the evil tide behind.

Shen Xun stood by the window, looking in the direction where Xiulian had disappeared. There was nothing there anymore.

He stared at them for a long time, then turned around and looked at the photos on the table. He was just thinking. Thinking about Xiulian. Thinking about that shell that had grown out of the photos.

He understood. This Xiulian, though fused with evil from birth, had no attachments, no suffering. She simply wandered this building, feeding on the evil currents.

She knew who she was, why she was there, and why she was eating those sticky things.

But she pretended not to know. She simply lived. Living each day in a fantasy she had woven herself.

In the dream, she was with Old Gu. Old Gu hadn't gone to jail, and Xiulian hadn't died. They lived in a small house by the river. When Old Gu returned from his long-distance journey, Xiulian would wait for him at the door. She would heat up his food, pour him water, and wipe the dust off his face. They watched the river together, watched the snow together, and watched the birds that flew in from the south together.

They were always together. Happily together. Shen Xun didn't know when that illusion began, how long she had been making it up, or if she had ever doubted that it was real. He only knew that she lived there.

To live in place of the real Xiulian.

She disappeared. Peacefully, without struggle, pain, or resentment. She simply accepted reality and left.

Shen Xun looked at the photos, at the primordial spirits that had transformed from pure to malevolent, at Xiu Lian who had vanished from the living. He didn't speak. He didn't know what to say.

She wasn't Xiulian, but she lived for Xiulian. She wasn't Xiulian, but she suffered for Xiulian. She wasn't Xiulian, but she said "It's not your fault" for Xiulian.

She's gone. She should go. She's waited too long.

Xiulian should go too. They've all waited too long.

The team member was searching through the photos. They were stacked neatly in piles. He flipped to the bottom and found an ebony box. The box was engraved with snake patterns.

It has the exact same snake head pattern as the peach wood staff of Shen Xun, and it's exactly the same as the ebony box Lin Jian saw at his home in Hangzhou. There's an exquisite combination lock on the lid.

The team member held the box and glanced at Lin Jian. Lin Jian took it, his fingertips tracing the lock's dial.

Tears streamed down her face. She knew the password. It was her birthday. Her grandfather used her birthday as the password.

She turned around, then around again, and then around once more. Click. The lock opened.

The box didn't contain photos, but a notebook. It had a leather cover, worn smooth, and the edges were curled.

Lin Jian turned to the first page; it was her grandfather's handwriting. She recognized it. She had watched her grandfather write since she was little; each stroke was neat and precise, as if it had been carved.

"Lin Jian, by the time you see this notebook, Grandpa will no longer be by your side. Don't cry. Grandpa isn't dead, he just can't see you. Some things must be hidden. Some people must be avoided. Grandpa didn't abandon you on purpose, he was afraid of implicating you."

She turned to the second page.

"The golden light in this building was captured by a camera. Grandpa has been monitoring the unusual activity at the bottom of the river, and Su Jin has been destroying the barrier there. I know that one day, you will come here with the Guardian of Reincarnation. When the Guardian gets close, the talisman on the ebony box will automatically trigger and fall to the ground. Once you get the key, you can go up to the top floor and see what Grandpa left for you."

She turned to the third page.

"As more and more photos were taken, Xiulian's shadow grew out of the stack of photos. She didn't know what she was doing in front of her, but every day she would wipe each photo with her saliva. Grandpa can't stay here anymore. With Xiulian's shadow appearing, if I continue to stay here, Su Jin will find out. Grandpa is leaving, going to a more secluded place. I can't let Su Jin find out."

Lin Jian held the notebook, her hands trembling. She continued flipping through the pages, but tears blurred her vision, and she couldn't see anything clearly.

She couldn't bear to read any further. She closed the notebook and stuffed it into her bag. She wiped away her tears and stood up.

Faint sounds drifted from downstairs—the sound of shattering glass, shouts, and flashes of light. The evil tide surged, drones roared, and Lu Ye's voice rose from below, broken and fragmented, as if torn apart by the wind. "The light cannot be extinguished... If it is extinguished... then nothing will remain..."

Lin Jian picked up the camera and gripped it tightly. The golden image was still inside the camera, warm and hot, like her grandfather's hand. She glanced at Shen Xun, then at her teammates, and said nothing.

Shen Xun gripped the peachwood cane and walked towards the door. "Let's go downstairs. Lu Ye and the others are in danger." He entered the stairwell, his footsteps echoing in the darkness.

Lin Jian followed, and the team members followed. They went down the stairs and into the darkness.

They didn't know if they would make it in time, how much longer they could hold on, or how much longer that light would stay on.

All they knew was that someone was waiting. They couldn't keep them waiting too long.