The girl in the distance was almost entering the forest. Dusk sunlight slanted across the horizon, a cacophony of red and gold ribbons drifting above the white clouds. The world beyond the forest became the sun's final stage. But beneath the intertwined branches, a thick darkness gathered. In a few minutes, the girl's figure would be swallowed by the darkness. Will walked a short distance to the other side, pacing anxiously in the mud. Soon he would rush out, reckless, and the peace I'd worked so hard to maintain would be over. Either I'd become an accomplice or a bomb waiting to explode. Either way, I'd be the one to suffer. Convincing Will was impossible. The only way was for him to give up on his own accord. Whether it was a wolf or a ghost, there had to be something terrifying in that forest. Not just scary, but something terrifying enough to scare someone like Will, something scarier than Mrs. Walker's rolling pin.
I still held onto a last shred of hope. Even if Will claimed he wasn't afraid, his plans would be thwarted if Mrs. Walker showed up. His current state was merely fueled by hormones, his mind clouded by the false courage brought on by the stimulants. The tide of vanity would eventually recede. At heart, he was still a cowardly little scoundrel. Desire could never truly change a person.
Dobbin never stood up. Some vague and intangible thought drained his spirit, and the memories of city life swept over him, making him dazed and dull.
Fragments from the novel slowly emerged from the corners of my memory, like a snail slowly burrowing out of its clumsy shell. A dull, hollow ache reverberated within me. Under the setting sun, we remained alone at the edge of the camp. The girl shrank to a tiny, hard-to-pin-down black dot in my sight, stumbling into the forest. The flickering candle in my heart gradually died down. Will glared at me, his teeth gnashing. I knew the most vicious curses were already ripping in his throat, ready to burst forth at me. I'll agree to his request for now. He knew the operation couldn't succeed without my help. I can still vividly remember that look, the way hundreds of people stared up at the podium, their intentions strangely united. Which picture unsettled me? The one before me. I should take a picture of this scene, the hot-headed brat and the reclusive forest girl. It'll be pinned to the police whiteboard with a green tack, a red string connecting it to Will Walker's picture.
I took a few steps forward, then broke into a run. It wasn't too late to catch up now. Will didn't react for a moment and ran after me, confused.
"We can only go over and take a look, understand?" I said as I ran. "Follow my instructions. If anything goes wrong, turn back immediately."
Will neither objected nor agreed, only his heavy breathing drifting away on the wind. He mobilized all his strength, focusing intently on closing the distance between him and the girl. For the first time in his life, he pursued a goal so desperately, simply to satisfy a shameful, obscene impulse. I didn't know how to evaluate his behavior, the scales in my mind vacillated between "pathetic" and "ridiculous." I was afraid the weight of sadness was heavier. No matter how I tried, I couldn't laugh while accompanying him in such a foolish act.
The trail gradually thickened with fallen leaves, and we quickly completed the last stretch of trail covered by sunlight. Two rows of tall trees lined the roadside, gazing majestically at us. Ahead, many larger, older trees stood united, forming a majestic green web that enveloped the landscape, perhaps even their deepest roots entwined in one another. The girl, perhaps a few dozen meters away, had pulled out a lantern from somewhere and was leisurely pacing by its light. An evening stroll should be filled with humming, but with a stranger following us, that might turn into screaming. The faint red light was fragmented and scattered by the dense canopy of trees, providing ineffective illumination. Without a light source, it would be difficult for her to spot us, but it also increased the risk of our actions. I slowed my pace, cautiously maintaining a safe distance, while Will nervously closed his mouth. His nose continued to breathe, his lungs protesting loudly. If the girl had heard it, she would probably have mistaken it for a ferocious beast.
The lantern's dim light made it seem even smaller in the dense darkness woven by the trees. Yet the girl walked with such confidence that one couldn't help but feel she could reach her destination blindly, even without the lantern. At her age, that was truly remarkable. Her decision to walk into the forest alone was also puzzling. Will was right; her clothing wasn't like that of a villager, nor was it like ours. More bluntly, her cloak aroused suspicion. When the group entered the village, I saw no other settlements nearby. The vast forest provided shelter from outside intrusion. Could she be living deep in the forest, keeping a calendar on the wall of her cabin, meticulously planning her visits to the village for supplies? Why would another hermit live near such a rare retreat? Would anyone truly live alone in a dense, sunless forest? This young woman, with her enigmatic eyes, at least fell within the realm of normalcy. The Aladons were remnants of the old empire, unable to be exposed to the public eye. That's why they'd hidden away in this sealed little box for generations. So why had she ended up hiding in a corner even more remote than the Aladons' box?
There's a world of difference between occasionally exploring a haunted house and spending every night there. How likely is it that this girl, seemingly younger than me, could be living alone in the deep woods? Even though she walks with such a confident gait, it doesn't necessarily mean she can survive alone in the forest for long. A timid girl might deliberately feign a leisurely stroll. The greater the fear of the unknown, the more courage must be displayed with pride and confidence, and this is true for most children aged twelve or thirteen. Survival isn't achieved through sheer courage. She wasn't some dreamy, woodland nymph from a novel. She appeared as the protagonist's guide, more conceptual than physical, closer to a shrine maiden or some kind of magic, where inner meaning far outweighed form. I believe she was undoubtedly a tangible entity, an ordinary person like me. The touch of her palm still remains vivid in my senses, a perfectly cool and delicate touch.
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