By the time Zhang Xiaoshan returned to the village office, Bai Shutong had locked the door from inside.
"I left your shoes by your door. I'm sleeping next door, so if you need anything, just call me."
"Get lost, you thug,"
Bai Shutong cursed from within her cocoon of blankets.
Zhang Xiaoshan felt guilty, like a thief, and as he needed a favor, he obediently went to sleep in the next room.
Soon, Zhang Xiaoshan drifted into dreamland.
But Bai Shutong was suffering.
She curled up in the blankets, eyes wide open.
Though she often went into the mountains for interviews, it was always during broad daylight and with colleagues; she had never spent a night in the mountains—wasn't this just too frightening?
Had she known this place was so eerie, she wouldn't have come.
Whatever she feared seemed to come true.
"Crack, crack, crack"
The old screw-in light bulb hanging from the ceiling crackled with the sound of electricity.
It flickered on and off.
"No, this can't be happening?"
