Xia Miao had never paid much attention to folklore, so she was unaware of the small roadside shrine. She looked at the wooden figurine in her hand and dusted it off.
Duan Shou nervously said, "You should put that down! Aren’t you afraid of attracting something unclean?"
Xia Miao: "Huh?"
Duan Shou couldn’t stand Xia Miao’s obliviousness and hurriedly explained, "I told you, these little idols might be occupied by wandering spirits! And wandering spirits are never good—they’ll definitely harm people!"
Xia Miao replied, "If there really are wandering spirits inside, and you just called them ‘no good,’ wouldn’t they have heard you? Aren’t you afraid of bringing terrible luck upon yourself?"
Duan Shou’s face paled. Xia Miao’s words made too much sense.
Clasping his hands together, he frantically bowed in apology. "I was just blabbering nonsense! I meant no disrespect to any deities or spirits! Please don’t take offense, don’t take offense!"
Xia Miao waved her hand dismissively. "Relax, even if there were spirits, they wouldn’t hold it against you."
As she spoke, she casually tucked the wooden figurine into her pocket.
Curious, Xia Miao asked, "Earlier, you mentioned locals. Which place are you talking about?"
Duan Shou: "Baiyun Town in Baiyun City."
Xia Miao: "Never heard of it."
Duan Shou paused. "You’re not from Baiyun City?"
Xia Miao shook her head. "No."
Duan Shou frowned, puzzled. "The people I tried to cozy up to were all from Baiyun Town. I thought that might be why we’re trapped here. But since you’re not from there, maybe I was wrong. Could this hospital just be picking targets at random?"
Xia Miao stayed silent.
Just then, the lights in the room flickered—then went out completely, plunging them into darkness.
Duan Shou nearly jumped out of his skin. If not for his pride as a man, he would have bolted for cover.
In the suffocating silence, where even their own breaths were audible, chaotic footsteps echoed from outside the door.
Seeing Xia Miao move toward the door, Duan Shou whispered, "What are you doing?"
Xia Miao answered, "Checking out the situation."
Duan Shou’s eyes widened. He couldn’t believe how fearless she was at a time like this.
He reached out to pull her back, but just as his fingers grazed her, an icy chill crawled up his spine. Shivering, he instinctively withdrew his hand.
Many of the facilities here were old and poorly maintained. The warehouse door had cracks no one had bothered to fix—which now worked to Xia Miao’s advantage.
She pressed against the door, peering through the gaps. Shadowy figures passed by, though the dim light made it hard to see clearly.
Once the footsteps faded and silence returned, Xia Miao pushed the door open.
A cold wind swept in, making Duan Shou’s scalp tingle. He hurried after her. "Hey, are you crazy?!"
He wanted to shut the door, but Xia Miao had already stepped outside.
"Hey, Number 09!" Duan Shou didn’t dare follow her out, only daring to call out in a hushed voice from the doorway. But when he looked outside, he froze.
The corridor had transformed. The cold concrete walls were gone, replaced by ancient wooden beams. Oil lamps hung along the walls, casting a feeble glow.
Duan Shou took a hesitant step forward—as if crossing a boundary between time and space, returning to a distant past.
With a creak, the warehouse door closed behind them, severing their connection to the real world.
Xia Miao thought for a moment, then followed the direction where the figures had disappeared.
Duan Shou felt uneasy, but something about this place stirred a strange intuition in him—that they might uncover crucial clues. Gritting his teeth, he rushed after her.
At some point, the hospital they remembered had vanished. In its place stood an impossibly vast, labyrinthine mansion, with corridors branching in every direction. One wrong turn, and they’d be lost.
Luckily, Duan Shou stuck close to Xia Miao. After walking for a while, they spotted figures ahead.
Several tall men, draped in white robes with hoods covering their heads, walked in solemn procession. Long white cloths adorned with strange symbols obscured their faces.
Among them was a much smaller figure—a child.
While the adults took a single stride, the boy had to scurry two steps to keep up. Yet his short legs didn’t seem to hinder him, as if he’d grown accustomed to it.
Unlike the others, the boy’s face was hidden behind a plain white mask—no embellishments, just two dark eyeholes contrasting against the blank canvas.
His oversized robe hung loosely on his small frame, like he’d stolen an adult’s clothes.
A door creaked open, revealing pitch-black darkness inside.
"Go on in," one of the men said.
The boy lifted his head, hesitating. He clearly didn’t want to enter.
"Don’t be difficult. You’re old enough to behave. We’ve invested so much in you—don’t let us down."
The boy lowered his head and shuffled inside.
The door shut firmly behind him, and the robed men departed.
"Hey, didn’t you say you were a local? What’s with this cult-like behavior?" Xia Miao whispered from their hiding spot.
When no answer came, she turned—only to find Duan Shou had vanished. He must have gotten separated in the maze of corridors.
Xia Miao touched the wooden figurine in her pocket, glanced around, and, seeing no one else, decided to approach the door.
Tiptoeing forward, she hesitated for a moment before gently knocking.
After a pause, the door cracked open slightly.
A pair of dark, curious eyes peered through the gap.
"Who are you?" the boy asked.
Xia Miao crouched to his level. "I’m a fairy sister. And who are you?"
The boy frowned. "You’re lying. Fairies don’t look like you. They look like me."
Xia Miao grinned, squatting fully now. "Oh? And how do you look?"
He answered matter-of-factly, "Snow-white skin and hair, red eyes—nothing like ordinary people."
Xia Miao’s expression faltered. Without thinking, her hands reached for his mask.
He recoiled, clutching it tightly. "If you see my face, misfortune will befall you!"
"Nonsense! Meeting you here is the luckiest thing that could happen!"
Seizing his moment of surprise, Xia Miao swiftly pulled off the mask.
The boy’s face was revealed—pale as snow, with striking crimson eyes. Even in youth, his features held an otherworldly beauty.
