The Taoist priest’s name was Peter Chow, a member of the Mount Mason Order—a renowned Taoist sect known for resolving supernatural disturbances and expertise in feng shui. He made his living consulting on feng shui for others, occasionally taking on ghost-hunting jobs—but only when the spirits posed a serious threat. At just over forty, he’d rushed here after a friend’s urgent call.
At that moment, Peter Chow was holding a luopan—a feng shui compass—investigating the hotel where we were staying. I noticed the needle was unsteady, a clear sign that something unusual was here. But unless we could uncover the truth, there was little we could do.
"Mr. Lanworth, Miss Rachel, there’s definitely something present, but it’s elusive. Have you sensed anything strange before?"
Peter Chow asked, and I shook my head.
"If there’s anything odd, it’s probably the way this place is laid out."
My father looked at Peter Chow as he spoke. I glanced at my father, puzzled, while Peter Chow nodded and responded.
"Indeed, the layout here is unusual. The river in the middle splits the ley lines on both sides, and the ley lines themselves flow in opposite directions. Most crucially, the highway by the river ends abruptly at the mountain wall—a classic omen of misfortune in feng shui, since a broken road means broken fortune. Yet, this spot sits right above a water gate, and the opposing ley lines cause energy to gather here, as if this place were a giant basin, always collecting more. It’s a strange configuration, but it doesn’t resemble a ritual array or any standard feng shui pattern. Normally, places like this wouldn’t accumulate vitality—the essential life force associated with prosperity. But here, the two opposing ley lines isolate the area, the river splits the center, and the road above is broken. Vitality only trickles in. Life and death, yin and yang, are supposed to transform each other, but here, that doesn’t happen—likely because there are no graves. In short, it’s chaotic, yet the chaos somehow makes sense. In all my years, I’ve never seen a layout like this."
I only half understood, but my father nodded.
"We did investigate the forest before. There’s definitely something strange about this place."
But after searching all morning, we found nothing. Peter Chow also visited his friend’s house. Although many tourists had already left, a large number remained. Some who’d encountered ghostly phenomena negotiated with the owner, received partial refunds, and moved to hotels that hadn’t reported any hauntings.
"Maybe someone did this on purpose."
After my father and I finished dinner and returned to our room, he said this.
"Dad, did something occur to you?"
My father just smiled and nodded, keeping his thoughts to himself. He didn’t elaborate, so I decided to head back to my room for a nap.
When I woke up, night had already fallen. Nothing strange had happened in the room, so I finally got some restful sleep. My father wasn’t there, and he didn’t answer his phone, so I went out alone.
The streets were still lively—though not as bustling as the previous days, the riverside was as busy as ever. After all, it’s not everywhere you find scenery like this, and the food here was truly delicious.
Many people were still talking about the hauntings. Just then, I spotted the girl who’d returned my wallet. We exchanged smiles, and I thanked her.
"Big sis, why did you come here alone? You look like you’re already married, aren’t you?"
I smiled awkwardly and replied.
"He’s gone far away and won’t be back anytime soon."
We sat down at a table together. They hadn’t eaten yet, so I took the chance to ask a few questions and invited them to have some food.
I asked if they’d seen any ghosts last night. The girl told me they’d slept soundly and hadn’t heard anything at all. The hotel they were staying at hadn’t had any problems either.
At that moment, what puzzled me was how this girl knew I was already married.
"Little sis, how did you know I was married?"
"Of course I knew. Sis, did you come here for something important? After all, this place has plenty of single men and women looking for excitement, but you’re different. You never pay attention to other men, and you ignore anyone who tries to hit on you."
I couldn’t help but smile. This girl was pretty sharp, though her boyfriend seemed a bit wooden—or maybe just shy.
The girl’s name was Chen Hua, and her boyfriend was Wu Wei. They were both juniors in college, here on vacation during the break.
"Actually, Miss Lanworth, I’ve heard stories about this place before. This isn’t the first time there’s been talk of ghosts here."
I looked at Chen Hua, confused, as she spoke with a cheerful smile. Wu Wei, her boyfriend, seemed uneasy, telling her not to talk about such things at night, but Chen Hua just laughed and kept going.
Back in high school, Chen Hua’s cousin had come here for a trip. That night, something strange happened—just like the ghostly events people are talking about now. Her cousin was so frightened she thought it was just a hallucination, but on the third night, she was found by the river, dazed and shivering, and left in a hurry. It wasn’t just her; other people also started experiencing bizarre incidents.
It was a sinister affair. Later, when Chen Hua’s cousin returned and talked about it, most people didn’t believe her. Chen Hua’s cousin was so upset that she made a bet: if anyone went there and didn’t see a ghost, she’d pay for all their expenses.
"But those who took the bet with my cousin never came back."
I gasped, looking at Chen Hua in disbelief. She just smiled, while Wu Wei glanced around nervously.
Chen Hua then took out her phone, searching for information. She found news about the disappearance of the four girls who bet with her cousin, and even some recent updates on the case.
Apparently, four girls came here for the hot springs. After two days, they checked out and vanished. The police investigated—their car was found by the roadside, all their belongings were there, but the girls were gone. The case caused a stir, but in the end, there were no results. The four girls were never found.
And that was the end of it. The girls’ parents came searching many times, but there was nothing they could do.
"My cousin told me about this just this year—including the bet. She wanted to come and look for them herself, but she didn’t dare. Actually, she asked me to bring something over for her this time."
I looked at Chen Hua, puzzled, as she smiled and took four straw dolls out of her bag. Each had a small red talisman stuck to it, and names written on the straw. I stared in shock, sensing an evil aura—it didn’t look like any normal ritual.
"Enough, Hua, stop talking about this stuff..."
"What are you so scared of, you’re a grown man!"
I sighed. Chen Hua grinned at me and asked,
"Sis, are you in this line of work too? I’ve always been sensitive to strange things—ghosts and such. I’ve seen a few, you know. But you seem to have a kind of warmth about you."
I looked at Chen Hua in surprise. I didn’t sense anything unusual from her—just that her energy seemed stronger than most people’s, which was why I’d noticed her.
"I know a little bit," I said with a smile. Still, I was curious about the four straw dolls in her hands. She told me her cousin had found a master who said that if you have something the missing girls used—hair is best, or blood—then as long as they’re alive, you can use these dolls to find them.
"So who gave your cousin those dolls?" I asked.
Chen Hua shook her head, indicating she didn’t know.
After we finished eating, I invited them to my room to keep talking. The more we chatted, the stranger things felt.
Once back in my room, I called my father. He finally answered and told me he was in the mountains with Peter Chow. I went to the bathroom and told my dad about the girl’s story. He told me not to do anything and to wait for him to return.
Just then, there was a commotion outside—police had come to investigate because a photographer staying at the hotel had a mental breakdown. People were gossiping all over the place.
I watched quietly from the side. The police suspected it was a criminal case—the photographer had received an anonymous invitation to come here, along with payment.
I was growing more and more suspicious—it all felt so strange. After the police left, Chen Hua and I went back to my room. More than ten people had already left the hotel. The owner looked helpless, not knowing who to complain to about all this weirdness.
In the room, Chen Hua took out the straw dolls again. I held one in my hand and immediately felt a stabbing pain—it was definitely some kind of evil magic, and it used ghostly power. There are plenty of people who use such dark arts to scam money in the living world.
Chen Hua didn’t seem bothered, so I didn’t press further. Just then, I heard a commotion outside. We went out again to the hotel lobby, where a couple, pale-faced, claimed to have seen a ghost in their room. The woman was wrapped in a towel, the man wore only shorts, shivering in the freezing winter. The owner looked utterly exhausted.
We followed the owner to check the room, but everything was normal. Wu Wei, looking uneasy, dragged Chen Hua away—they seemed genuinely afraid of this sort of thing.
I stayed alone in my room. After soaking in the hot spring, I lay down and watched TV out of boredom. Checking my phone, I saw that stories about the Snowridge Springs hauntings were already spreading online—the situation was getting worse.
But what I was really concerned about was what Chen Hua had said—the missing girls’ case. I started searching online for more details, and found all sorts of wild theories.
Suddenly, I heard the sound of running water from the bathroom again. Frowning, annoyed, I got up and pulled open the door—this time, I saw a girl sitting on the toilet, staring blankly at me.
Her expression was vacant, her eyes fixed on me.