"Roxie, are you hungry? Let's go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat."
Both Leah King and I were already red-faced from the cold. The temperature was extremely low now, probably because so many ghosts had arrived. I nodded and went downstairs with Leah King. As soon as we got down, I saw the Ghost Painting Book Immortal sitting in the courtyard, writing something with a brush. I ignored him and followed Leah King into the cafeteria.
I was in a terrible mood—absolutely miserable. I just couldn't pull myself together. Later, while Leah King was cooking noodles downstairs, I stepped out into the courtyard.
"What are you doing here?"
"Of course, I'm here to record this part of the story. Little girl, I don't think you need to be so upset. It's all over now, just like when I recorded Ethan Zhang's story before. The only pity is, now I have to rewrite the ending of this story."
I looked at the Ghost Painting Book Immortal, annoyed. He just smiled and continued speaking.
"Ethan Zhang probably still exists somewhere in this world, so his story isn't over yet. But Basil Bertram no longer exists anywhere in this world, so his story has ended. I'll call this story 'Tree.' I really enjoy organizing these strange stories about people and ghosts. When you have time, you can tell me the details, and I'll record everything."
I walked over and angrily kicked the open scroll in front of the Ghost Painting Book Immortal. He quickly gathered up the scroll, laughing as he floated into the air.
"It won't do any good to be angry. There are many things in this world that we can't change or reverse. All I do is record these stories so they aren't lost to time. Think about it: what would happen if, in the future, no one remembered any of this?"
"So what?"
The Ghost Painting Book Immortal smiled and slowly floated toward the back mountain. All the other ghosts had already left; only four Ghost Sovereigns remained seated there.
"As long as you remember, these things will never die—they'll be buried in your heart forever. Little girl, it's just like Zhang Qingyuan. If you truly forget him, maybe he really will cease to exist anywhere in this world."
I snorted coldly. Just then, Leah King called me in to eat noodles.
"If one day Ethan Zhang can return, and he enters the scroll written by that old man, maybe he can find a way to bring Basil Bertram back."
I smiled, looking at the noodles in my bowl, then chuckled.
"Your story too, Roxie. I'll record every detail of the stories of everyone present here in 'The Haunting Entwined.' I love stories, so I want to record them, no matter how much hardship, sweetness, bitterness, or sorrow they contain. After all, these are real stories, aren't they?"
"Or maybe it's not a ghost at all, but someone who's always watching over me. It's happened more than once—ever since I was little, I've always felt someone would pat my head, whether I was happy, sad, or sick. Isn't that strange?"
I started laughing.
"After you eat, get some rest early. We're heading back tomorrow, and it's already past one o'clock."
But after I ate, lying in bed, I just couldn't fall asleep. Once Leah King was asleep, I got up again and headed to the back mountain. I heard laughter there, and sure enough, Redmond and the others were still drinking. The Ghost Painting Book Immortal had joined them, chatting while writing on his scroll.
"Roxie, you'd better get some sleep soon. It's so cold, your body can't take it."
Redmond said this, looking in a terrible mood, gulping down liquor from a jug. I glanced at the Old Willow again—now only a stump remained, its upper part completely shattered, dry wood fragments scattered all over the ground.
"I can't sleep."
Saying that, I moved closer and sat down. For a while, none of us spoke. Yuna Ji stared expressionlessly at the distant Old Willow, occasionally giving a helpless smile.
"Alright, that's the end of the story. The same goes for you all—I'll make sure to record your stories too. If anything else happens, let me know."
I glanced at the scroll the Ghost Painting Book Immortal had put away. Its title was 'The Haunting Entwined.'
"That's a pretty strange name."
I said, and the Ghost Painting Book Immortal laughed.
"The reason I recorded Basil Bertram's story in the book is because stories in the book can become reality. You remember what you experienced in that horror story, right?"
I immediately nodded.
"Does that mean..."
"It's the only way."
Yvonne May said gloomily, finishing off her drink.
"If one day Zhang Qingyuan can return, and he enters the scroll written by that old man, maybe he can find a way to bring Basil Bertram back."
I made a sound of agreement, and the Ghost Painting Book Immortal laughed, slowly sitting down on his scroll.
"Your story too, Lan Ruoxi. I'll record every detail of the stories of everyone present here in 'The Haunting Entwined.' I love stories, so I want to record them, no matter how much hardship, sweetness, bitterness, or sorrow they contain. After all, these are real stories, aren't they?"
As he spoke, the Ghost Painting Book Immortal flew off into the distance. I sighed, took another sip of wine, and was already feeling a bit drunk. I turned and started walking away.
"You all keep drinking. I'm going back to sleep."
Just then, Yuna Ji called out to me.
"There was clearly another choice... so why..."
I knew what Yuna Ji wanted to say, but Lord Shenyan stopped her.
"No need to say more. This was Basil Bertram's own choice. We don't need to discuss it further. Tonight, let's just have a drink."
Back in the dorm, Leah King was already sound asleep. With the help of the alcohol, I soon drifted off myself.
In my dream, I found myself once again in front of the lush Old Willow. To my surprise, Basil Bertram was sitting under the tree, smiling happily at me. All around, hydrangeas were in full bloom. Just as I was feeling joyful, everything began to shift—the Old Willow started to wither and die again. I watched in terror as it happened.
Suddenly, I screamed. A hand grabbed me and pulled me back.
"Don't scream, Roxie."
It was Mona Ouyang. I jumped in fright.
"What happened?"
I glared at Mona Ouyang, angrily demanding an explanation.
"Where did you go?"
Mona Ouyang didn't say anything, just pressed down on my shoulder and turned me toward the big tree. Then he turned into a wisp of violet smoke and disappeared.
Just as I was about to ask why he hadn't come for Basil Bertram's final journey, I was stunned. My body began to tremble slightly. I didn't know if what I was seeing was a dream or reality, but I saw someone standing under the big tree by the stream.
I ran over, overwhelmed with emotion, not knowing what was happening to me. The distance was so short, yet running over felt endlessly long. Suddenly, a hand reached out in front of me, holding a golden seed.
"Sorry, Roxie, I can't do much, nor can I tell you anything. This seed can save Basil Bertram. There's not much time left—I have to go back."
Just as I was about to take it, Ethan Zhang gave me a smile that left me at a loss—a bit bitter. The seed ended up in my hand, and I felt a gentle warmth.
"Wait, Ethan, wait..."
Like smoke, Ethan Zhang vanished before my eyes. I stared, the words he'd just spoken still ringing in my ears, but he was already gone. I looked around, but there was no sign of him anywhere.
My heart ached again, and tears welled up. Only the seed in my hand gave me an unprecedented warmth. At that moment, Mona Ouyang came to my side and sighed.
"He was exhausted just to come back, Roxie. Ethan Zhang asked me to tell you: he'll find a way to return. He hopes you'll keep moving forward, as always."
I stared blankly at Mona Ouyang.
"Go quickly. This seed is very important—it's the only thing that can save Basil Bertram. As long as you still believe and don't want Basil Bertram to disappear, there's hope."
Suddenly I woke up in bed, sweat and tears mixed together. I wiped them away, quickly dressed, and felt the warmth in my hand fading. I opened the window and leapt out. Crimson wings spread behind me as I flew straight for the mountaintop. It was already past five in the morning, and dawn was near. I breathed out cold air, trembling. The Ghost Sovereigns had already left, and everything before me was dead silent. I walked to the cracked roots of the Old Willow and swallowed hard.
I opened my palm and placed the glowing golden seed into the crack at the center of the old stump. Nothing happened—the seed dispersed like smoke and vanished.
I quietly watched everything before me, praying. I didn't want Basil Bertram's story to end here. Ethan Zhang's words echoed in my mind, and I understood. For a long time, it felt as though my time had stopped. I don't know why, but I slowed my steps and came to a halt.
Maybe Ethan Zhang knew this, which is why he asked Mona Ouyang to deliver those words to me. My mind was clear—I needed to find Fan Xiaoran and ask what really happened in the illusion, then ask Mona Ouyang to relay it to Ethan Zhang. Maybe then, Ethan Zhang could return soon.
Time passed, second by second. I didn't know what I was waiting for, but I never gave up hope. I always believed that this father and daughter, who had finally learned to accept each other, would not be separated by death so easily.
"I don't agree, Basil Bertram, you big idiot!"
I cursed him fiercely. For some reason, tears began to flow again. Maybe I was thinking more about everything between me and Ethan Zhang—we never gave up on each other. Can you really give up on something so easily?
The faint light of dawn slowly broke across the sky. I turned around; the east was already brightening. Morning had come. I lifted my head—though I longed for something in my heart, nothing happened.
By eight o'clock, exhausted, I turned to leave. Just then, I heard a cracking sound. The moment I turned my head, I was stunned.
In the split stump, a touch of green appeared. I crouched down—it was a tiny green sprout, just beginning to grow from the center of the stump. My eyes widened in surprise, and tears of joy streamed down my face.
Sunlight was pouring all around, mingling with the scent of flowers. I smiled.