C18 Returning to the Light of Day
Suddenly, the image of a grand eight-bearer palanquin and a mysterious woman flashed through my mind. I held my breath and hurried to the window, stealthily peering outside.
Strangely enough, there were no people in sight, just two swirling gusts of cold wind in the courtyard, accompanied by the faint sound of chains dragging across the ground.
After watching for a moment, I noticed the two whirlwinds drifting into my adoptive father's room.
Concerned for my adoptive father's safety, my first instinct was to rush over, but before I could move, a man's voice emerged from the darkness behind me.
"Don't go…"
I shuddered in fear and quickly turned to see a vague white figure in the room's dark corner, reminiscent of the person holding a white lantern in my dreams.
"Who... is there?" I whispered, reaching for the flashlight in the drawer.
There was no response. With shaking hands, I switched on the flashlight, casting a ghastly white beam that revealed the corner to be empty.
As I stood there, puzzled, noises from the courtyard caught my attention. I looked back to see the two black whirlwinds exiting my adoptive father's room and slowly dissipating into the night.
Fearing for my adoptive father, I set aside my concern for the white-clad figure and rushed to his room. Upon entering, I was met with a chilling sight.
Scattered across the floor were numerous pale bones, unmistakably human, with leg bones, ribs, and even a horrifying skull among them.
The arrangement of the bones was peculiar. It reminded me of the patterns my foster father once created with stones in the courtyard, possibly forming a Magic Array. With this in mind, I refrained from disturbing the scene.
"Father..." I called out softly, tiptoeing to the brick bed and lifting the blanket, only to find it empty.
"Father, where are you?" I called out in distress, hearing a noise from the nearby wardrobe.
I approached slowly and was about to open the wardrobe when a note slipped through the door's crack and fell to the floor.
I picked up the note and unfolded it. It read, "They haven't left yet. Do not open the cabinet. Go back to your room and sleep. Find me when the sun rises."
The handwriting was unmistakably my foster father's. Why would he need to hide in the wardrobe?
Confused, I nonetheless followed my foster father's instructions and quietly retreated to my room.
Sleep eluded me that night. I regretted not heeding my foster father's advice. Strange occurrences had been relentless ever since I revealed my abilities, bringing with them a series of calamities and misfortunes.
Hours ticked by until dawn finally broke. Eagerly, I made my way to the side room.
Upon opening the door, I found my foster father had emerged from the wardrobe, sitting in a chair, looking considerably healthier.
"Changsheng, you're awake," my foster father said with a gentle smile, rising from his chair and taking a few steps around the room.
"Father... Father, your legs!" I exclaimed, astonished. My foster father's once-crippled legs were miraculously healed.
Observing him closely, I saw that his complexion was radiant and his body robust, as if he had shed years off his age.
"Changsheng, let's not go to the county town today. I'd like you to join me for a stroll through the village."
"Father, can you explain what's happening? What occurred last night?" I asked, filled with a mix of excitement and confusion.
"Last night, two individuals attempted to abduct me to a place that was cold, dark, and eerie," my foster father explained calmly.
"Father... what are you saying?" I inquired, still trying to make sense of it all.
"Come, accompany your father on a walk through the village. I'll share everything with you tonight," he said with a smile, though my unease only grew.
We spent the day wandering the village and ascending the mountain, reminiscent of the days when my foster father would take me herb-picking. It felt like a return to the cherished moments of my childhood.
As the sun dipped below the horizon and nightfall approached, we headed home. I prepared dinner and served it in the side room, but in that moment, I noticed my foster father's appearance had altered once more.
The instant I laid eyes on my adoptive father, the bowl I was holding crashed to the floor.
He looked like a deflated ball, aging rapidly before my eyes. His legs were crippled, and he slumped on the bed, his whole being exuding the stench of decay.
