The golden dragon, once depicted by Cynthia Mu as treading upon auspicious golden clouds, had vanished. In its place, certain areas appeared gloomy and dim, and a faint dark mist seemed to emanate from above.
Cynthia Mu took down the painting, but deep inside, she felt an intense aversion to it. She tore the artwork to pieces, threw it into the trash bin, and entered her home.
From birth, Cynthia Mu possessed a unique ability: she could see things that ordinary people could not. For example, she always noticed a bright, white aura surrounding flowers, plants, and trees—this was the life force, the energy emitted by living things.
Sometimes, she would also see dark, black auras emanating from withered objects or things that had died. Years ago, Cynthia Mu even helped the police solve a major murder case because of this ability.
When Cynthia Mu was seven or eight years old, she went on an outing with her parents to the suburbs. As they passed a small pond, Cynthia suddenly began crying and shouting at the water, refusing to leave and acting confused, no matter how her parents tried to calm her. She insisted on going to the pond in the forest.
With no other choice, her parents took Cynthia to the pond. Once there, she claimed that there were people inside—many people. Though her parents were puzzled, they called the police.
Ultimately, a serial murder and corpse-dumping case was solved. Although the suspect had already been identified, the police had struggled to find any evidence, and the bodies remained missing.
What is called 'life force' and 'death energy' is this: living people possess a great deal of life force, which acts like an immune system, protecting them from the intrusion of death energy in places heavy with yin.
Death energy, on the other hand, is generally found in dead things. Some ghosts possess this aura, though rarely. It is usually produced in graveyards and morgues, but is easily dispelled by sunlight or the life force emitted from surrounding plants.
The pond Cynthia Mu discovered was surrounded by tall trees, often blocking out sunlight. The lakebed held many corpses, generating a large amount of death energy. Cynthia could see this, and when the drowned wraiths pleaded for help, she responded.
After her painting had been stained black, Cynthia Mu paid it no mind and kept painting. But then, strange things began to happen.
Cynthia began dreaming of a black-and-white room where she painted endlessly. When she woke, she felt drained, especially in her wrists. On her desk, there would always be a painting—a grotesque, shadowy figure with a twisted face and wisps of dark mist.
Feeling sickened, Cynthia threw the painting away, but it would reappear the next day, and the day after that. She told her parents, but whenever they checked her room, the painting vanished.
Her parents said Cynthia was probably stressed from painting all day, and she believed them. On the eighth day, the strange painting disappeared, and Cynthia stopped dreaming.
This routine continued for three years. By then, Cynthia spent most days painting except for school, and her skills earned her recognition from the local Art Guild president. Even major city art schools would accept her without condition.
However, one morning in her first year of high school, Cynthia woke from a nightmare. She saw a grotesque figure tear apart her classmates, parents, and teachers before her eyes.
On her desk, the strange painting appeared again. This time, the face was more defined—the nose, ears, and eyes were all visible on the twisted visage.
Once again, Cynthia tore up the painting, feeling miserable. She wondered if it was just stress and went to school as usual.
But the next morning, Cynthia woke from the same nightmare, and on her desk sat another painting, exuding dark mist. The grotesque face grew clearer, its contours now visible.
All this made Cynthia's skin crawl. Terrified, she visited several fortune tellers, but they were all frauds and none could explain her condition.
Feeling disappointed, Cynthia remembered Dragonhill Temple, a place of strong spiritual energy and renowned masters. During summer break, she went up the mountain alone.
Each day, the painting revealed more disturbing scenes—she saw her parents, their heads severed, their deaths gruesome.
At this time of year, there were few visitors, and Dragonhill Temple felt cold and deserted.
Cynthia spoke to the abbot about her troubles, but he simply told her that 'the mind creates its own reality' and advised her to return home and cultivate inner peace.
Disappointed, Cynthia returned home and fell into despair. She went to school every day with dark circles under her eyes, telling her family and teachers she was just busy painting.
Cynthia lost count of the sleepless nights. Sometimes she stayed up till dawn, afraid to sleep, but eventually exhaustion would win. Every morning at 6:40, a painting would appear on her desk.
This morning, Cynthia screamed—a bald man with a savage grin stared at her from the painting, his eyes locked onto hers. His smile felt like a knife stabbing into her body.
Cynthia refused to sit and wait for doom. She began searching for information about the man in the painting. From that moment, the paintings vanished and her nightmares ceased.
Finally, Cynthia found information about the man—his name was Victor Xiang, the serial killer from the case she helped solve as a child. He was executed three years ago, the same day Cynthia's nightmares began.
After figuring everything out, Cynthia nearly broke down. Though she didn't believe in ghosts, she was now terrified. Cynthia had entered the Art Honors Class in high school, planning to use her talent to advance directly to university.
But now, Cynthia was afraid to paint. Sometimes, while working in the studio, she'd lose focus and, upon regaining it, see Victor Xiang's sinister face on the canvas—drawn by her own hand. At times, her body felt like it wasn't her own.
Her condition worsened, forcing Cynthia to drop out and rest. Her parents took her to countless doctors, but nothing helped.
Cynthia spent all day in her room, constantly painting Victor Xiang's likeness and scenes of murder. Her parents realized how serious things were and called in Taoists and Buddhist monks for help.
One day, a trustworthy Taoist arrived. After investigating, he refused any payment and simply said, 'Prepare for the end,' then left.
Because of Cynthia's condition, her family was on the verge of collapse. Her mental state deteriorated—she became manic, laughing and crying alone, like a madwoman.
Eventually, her parents locked her in her room, convinced their daughter had gone insane.
One night, a raging wind swept through the house. A strange light flashed across the painting, and then Victor Xiang appeared—exactly as Cynthia had painted him.
'I've suffered a lot, you know. After I was executed, everyone I killed deserved it. But because of you, I have to answer for those scum, and suffer torment even after death.'
Victor Xiang roared. Cynthia, still mad, listened as he leaned in close and whispered in her ear.
'I want you to lose everything, to feel my pain. Soon, I'll kill your parents. If you're already mad, it doesn't matter anymore.'
Suddenly, Cynthia grabbed a knife and stabbed Victor Xiang in the chest. Blood slowly oozed out.
Qianqian…
The person before her turned into Cynthia's father, eyes wide with shock. Cynthia screamed and swung the knife wildly. The figure shifted between her father and Victor Xiang.
The next day, the police arrived. Cynthia sat blankly in her room, knife in hand. Her parents were already dead by the bed. She became the prime suspect—fingerprints matched, and due to her mental state, she was sent to a psychiatric hospital.
Every day, someone visited Cynthia. It was her former art teacher, Mark Zhang, who refused to believe she could do such a thing. He had taught Cynthia since sixth grade.
Mark Zhang, now around forty, couldn't believe the kind and gentle girl he'd known could change so much in just six months.
He also heard that during police questioning, Cynthia kept insisting she had killed Victor Xiang.
Wanting to help his promising student, Mark Zhang investigated and discovered Victor Xiang was a serial killer from years ago—a case Cynthia had helped solve as a child.
But the details from Cynthia's family were strange—Mark heard this from a relative at the police station.
Mark Zhang decided to attend a high school reunion in H City, where his old friend Chief Stone, now head of the Special Crimes Division, would be present.