When I woke up again, it was already morning. I pressed my hand against my aching head—my body felt terrible. Outside, the sounds of children playing echoed through the air. I swallowed hard; only Past Ethan Justice was here with me.
"Where are the others?"
"They went out to investigate."
After I got up, I immediately began describing everything John Chou told me in the dream. Past Ethan Justice listened, his face filled with confusion.
"What three people went up the mountain?"
I looked at Past Ethan Justice, puzzled, and explained.
"The three people who are supposed to go up the mountain at noon today to gather herbs and tools!"
As I spoke, Past Ethan Justice looked out the window, still confused.
"I have no memory of that."
Stunned, I hurriedly got up after breakfast, looking at the villagers working in the fields. I ran over and asked directly if anyone was going up the mountain to gather herbs. After questioning dozens of people, everyone said that no one would go up the mountain during this season.
Near noon, Future Ethan Zhang returned, but he knew nothing about three people passing by on the mountain path. This stunned me. After lunch, we went straight to the village edge where the road leads up to Ridgecrest. I tried to recall—when I first entered this world, Future Ethan Zhang and I hid in the woods. I feared being seen, but the three passersby never noticed us. I thought Past Ethan Justice had done something to hide us.
Later, I remembered seeing three people entering the mountain from a distance. In one of the loops, when I broke the fence, the villagers fought over the cloth strips tied to it. That night, the villagers were devoured by ghosts, but I still saw the three mountain-goers the next day. Even when the village was in chaos, why were those three still heading up?
At the mountain entrance, the two Ethan Zhanqs and I waited quietly. We had already asked everyone in the village—no one wanted to go up the mountain.
After lunch, the villagers were all resting. It was at this moment that I saw the three mountain-goers. I stared at the road through the fields—there wasn't a single person in sight. Occasionally, a few mischievous children played in the village, refusing to nap.
But as time ticked by, still no one passed by here. The villagers, now rested, began to emerge from their homes. Just as I turned away, resigned to heading into the woods, I spotted three figures halfway up the mountainside. I cried out, raising my hand to point at the mountain.
"There! Look, three people—they're already halfway up Ridgecrest."
As I spoke, Past and Future Ethan Zhang turned to me, puzzled.
"I'll take you up there."
Past Ethan Justice spoke, then wrapped his arm around me. In an instant, we were at Ridgecrest. Before us was the road leading down the mountain. Future Ethan Zhang landed beside us. I saw clearly—a man and a woman, chatting and laughing, were coming up the mountain. I pointed ahead and said:
"Look, there they are—the three people are almost here."
As I spoke, both Past and Future Ethan Zhang said they couldn't see anything. I was stunned—the three mountain-goers were getting closer and closer, nearly upon us. I decided to intercept them.
"Please wait..."
Before I could finish speaking, the three passed right through me, like air—visible, but without substance. They didn't feel like ghosts, either. I spun around, nearly bumping into Future Ethan Zhang. I chased after them, reaching out, but my hands went straight through their half-transparent bodies.
I watched, helpless, as the three walked away. Most disturbing of all, though I could see them laughing and talking, I couldn't hear a single sound. A hand pushed lightly against my back.
"If you can see them, hurry up and follow."
Future Ethan Zhang said, and I quickly ran after them, trailing the three. The two Ethan Zhangs followed close behind. My heart raced as I stared at the trio ahead.
"What kind of people are they?"
Past Ethan Justice asked, and I began to describe them.
All three wore coarse cloth clothing. The woman carried a bamboo basket on her back; the two men had ropes tied around their waists, a bush knife, and a small hoe. They looked no different from the villagers.
After I finished, Past Ethan Justice spoke.
"If none of us can see them, there's only one explanation—your Coexistence Instinct."
I nodded. That was the only explanation. The path ahead grew narrower, and in the distance I could see its end. To the left at the end of the road stood a small wooden hut, likely a resting place for mountain travelers. I'd been following for nearly two hours. The three stopped by the hut, seemingly deep in discussion. I hurried over—again, I could see them talking, but not hear a word. I closed my eyes and activated my Coexistence Instinct.
Gradually, wisps of white energy began to rise from my body, drifting toward the three. But only I could see them—nothing else seemed to sense those energies. Both Ethan Zhangs agreed we should keep following, maybe we'd discover something.
I grunted in agreement and kept watch near the three. At that moment, a dispute broke out between the two men—one older, one younger. The older man looked about forty, his temples flecked with gray; the younger, just over twenty, still youthful. Their argument grew heated.
The woman looked young, seventeen or eighteen, unsure whom to support—she could only try to mediate helplessly. But the men kept arguing. I watched, puzzled. They must be family—the older man the father, the younger his son, and the woman their daughter. Their faces bore a clear resemblance.
By now, dusk had begun to fall. The argument finally ended, and I saw the three enter the hut. The wooden door creaked open. Both Past and Future Ethan Zhang turned to look at the hut.
"Did you see that?"
"There's definitely something there. Even if we can't see it, the hut door opened."
Past Ethan Justice spoke, and I grunted in response, quickly following inside. The father and son each found a corner, glaring at each other, while the daughter tried to mediate. Gradually, their anger faded. After eating some dry rations, the three prepared to rest, planning to set out again at dawn.
"Describe the current situation."
Future Ethan Zhang spoke. I grunted and explained their situation, but I still couldn't grasp what was happening.
I watched the three all night. At dawn, I slept a little, half-awake. I heard the creak of the door and shot up. The three had already risen, eaten some dry rations, and set out again.
There was no road ahead—they looked ready to climb the mountain. The closer to the summit, the denser the vegetation. Their pace slowed to a crawl.
But the atmosphere wasn't as harmonious as yesterday. The father and son bickered now and then, the daughter still trying to mediate.
Finally, by afternoon, I followed them to the summit. I had nothing to worry about—Past and Future Ethan Zhang cleared the way, making the trek effortless.
The three stood at the summit, heading into the woods to the left.
Again, the father and son argued over which route to take. I saw clearly—the son pointed to the far side of the mountain, arguing his case, while the father insisted on heading left. The daughter, still the peacemaker, tried to calm them both.
"Temporal distortion."
Suddenly, Future Ethan Zhang spoke. I looked at him, puzzled.
"What do you mean?"
"Sometimes, time and space can overlap. The people we see might not belong to this time or this place, but to another. These overlaps happen for a reason."
Past Ethan Justice explained. Just then, the father and son broke into another heated argument and finally split up—the father insisted on going left, while the son stormed down the mountain. The daughter hesitated, torn, before following her father. I was left unsure what to do.
On Future Ethan Zhang's advice, I followed the father and daughter. The left path along the summit was much smoother—likely because the sun kept the vegetation sparse. The two walked easily, the daughter glancing back now and then, worried about her brother.
Soon, the father and daughter slowed down, searching the grass around them. The mountain was vast, its ridgeline nearly straight. The two searched carefully.
By afternoon, they stopped for a meal. The daughter looked troubled, still worrying about her brother. The father comforted her, seeming happy about something, pointing into the grass. I followed his gaze and saw a patch of red grass—it surprised me. Past Ethan Justice crouched beside it, puzzled.