The old man was no longer an old man, but a woman dressed in a red wedding gown.
Everyone on the ship immediately felt a chill run from their feet to their hearts.
The woman's red wedding dress stood out starkly against the misty river, like flowing blood.
Her face was shrouded in shadow, yet the malice in her gaze could be clearly felt, shooting towards everyone as if it were a tangible force.
The river water beside the boat seemed to grow even colder after she waved her sleeve, and the ripples it created resembled the tentacles of a demon, quietly approaching the boat.
She stood there, her posture stiff yet exuding an indescribable eeriness, as if she were a vengeful spirit that had crawled up from hell.
After she passed by, the wooden planks on the deck seemed to be tainted with an ominous aura. The "clattering" sound still echoed in everyone's ears, each sound like a countdown to death.
Everyone's eyes widened, their throats felt as if they were being choked by an invisible hand, and they couldn't utter a sound.
In a corner of the boat awning, several rats, startled by the sudden turn of events, scurried about, making squeaking noises that added to the eerie atmosphere.
The woman's red sleeves fluttered in the wind, as if she were waiting for something.
The only lantern on the boat swayed in the wind, casting flickering light on everyone's faces, revealing expressions of utter terror.
Some people clung tightly to the gunwale, their knuckles turning white, as if it were their last lifeline. Others huddled in corners, their bodies trembling, muttering prayers for safety, but their voices sounded so powerless in the eerie atmosphere.
As the fog gradually dissipated, some blurry black shadows appeared on the river surface, as if something was quietly approaching underwater. The woman remained standing there, her sinister smile growing even more intense, as if she were waiting for a bloody feast to begin.
The three members of the Ma family resolutely left, their figures gradually disappearing into the morning light, leaving only silence.
As dawn broke, sunlight shone on the river, creating a shimmering effect, yet it seemed to carry a hint of indifference.
The ship, moored alone at the dock, looked like an orphan abandoned by the world.
The boat was somewhat old, and the grain of the wooden planks was clearly visible in the sunlight.
The fabric of the boat awning was slightly yellowed, and the edges were worn, as if telling the story of its past wandering years. Yet at this moment, it was empty, eerily quiet.
A gentle breeze blew by, and the boat's mooring line swayed on the wooden stake, as if making a final struggle.
Finally, the mooring line loosened, and the boat slowly left the dock, beginning its unknown drift. At first, it moved very slowly, like an old man with faltering steps, reluctantly leaving a familiar place.
As the current propelled the boat, its speed gradually increased, leaving a long trail on the river's surface.
The ship rocked, and some small objects in the cabin rolled along with it, making a slight clattering sound—the only sound of this lone ship.
The scenery on both banks kept receding, the trees and grass so green in the sunlight almost blinding. The boat seemed to be being pulled forward by an invisible hand.
Gradually, it moved further and further away from the dock until it became a tiny black dot, and finally disappeared at the bend of the river, vanishing completely.
With it came those who once harbored dreams.
Ma Linghua's voice echoed in the quiet environment as she clearly explained her fantastical yet seemingly hopeless plan: "When the nine stars align, we can go back. At that time, we will open the Yin Gate and the Yang Gate, and when the spacetime turbulence forms, we will go back to our original place."
The two people beside him listened with solemn expressions, the atmosphere as oppressive as the calm before a storm.
"Mother, I...I want to get rich."
A slightly choked voice broke the solemnity, but Ma Linghua waved her hand impatiently: "Alright, alright, stop being so sentimental, hurry up and find a place to stay."
The three of them had no choice but to start looking for a place to stay. However, this time, there were no cozy inns, only a dilapidated-looking small hotel.
As soon as I reached the hotel entrance, a strong stench of decay hit me, as if something was quietly rotting in the shadows.
The smell was like an invisible hand, tightly gripping the noses of the three people, making them feel nauseous.
Pushing open the hotel's rickety door, it creaked open like a painful groan. Dim lights flickered in the lobby, as if they might go out at any moment.
The walls were covered with mottled marks, as if they were scars left by the struggle between time and some unknown force.
The carpet underfoot was tattered and worn, with moldy floorboards visible in some places, and a sticky feeling permeated every step.
A gaunt-looking boss sat at the front desk, his eyes sunken in their sockets, gleaming with an eerie light as he coldly surveyed everyone.
"A hotel?"
His voice was so hoarse, like sandpaper, that it made people feel uncomfortable.
The four men reluctantly followed the boss towards the room. The stench of decay permeated the corridor, growing stronger with each passing moment.
There were some blurry portraits hanging on the wall. The faces in those portraits seemed to be distorted and deformed, as if they had their own lives.
Most of the room doors were closed, but faint sounds could be heard from inside from time to time, like someone crying softly, or like fingernails scratching on a wooden board.
Upon entering the room, a damp, putrid smell hit you.
The bed looked like it hadn't been made in a long time; there were suspicious stains on the blankets, and the pillows were flat and limp, as if they had been the remnants of countless nightmares.
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