The sky was overcast, with heavy rain about to fall. Darren Rong held his younger sister's hand as they walked through the village. The Harmony Village I saw was completely different from this one—everywhere were dilapidated, old houses, not a single decent road, only muddy ground after the rain.
Every household glowed with dim yellow lights. Many people were already preparing to rest. Darren Rong led his sister to a house with a courtyard, its door half open.
Inside, a lamp burned. An old man, about sixty, with a head of white hair, sat at the table drinking, some peanuts set before him. He saw the siblings and smiled.
“Darren, Yvonne, what’s wrong? Is something the matter?”
“Village Chief, could you spare us some meat?”
Darren asked timidly. At that moment, I saw an old, yellowed booklet on the Village Chief’s table—presumably the one Hugh Thompson mentioned. The Village Chief’s face was clouded with worry.
“You two can sleep at my place tonight. Don’t go back—your place must be falling apart by now. After New Year’s, I’ll take you home. You must be hungry. Eat something first; I’ll go make you something nice.”
The Village Chief spoke, letting the siblings nibble on peanuts before heading out of the hall toward the kitchen. But he’d left that booklet behind on the table.
With nothing else to do, Darren picked up the booklet and flipped through it. Page after page listed names and ages—all surnames from Harmony Village, hundreds of them.
Just then, a flash of lightning split the sky, followed by a deafening crash. Someone stood at the doorway, dressed in a loose black coat. Cold, merciless eyes fixed on the room. The visitor’s head was bowed low, coat collar pulled high, hiding half their face.
The Village Chief nodded.
"The last mission of the Darren family ends with my generation. This village has already caught the eye of an investor who wants to develop it. From now on, life should get better for everyone here."
"You must be exhausted, carrying all this for so long. The night after tomorrow, everything will come to an end. I've sealed the entrance—no one will ever go in again."
The Village Chief nodded again, then watched as Felix Zhou left with the booklet.
Staring at everything in the mirror, I couldn't help but feel confused. This should've happened thirteen years ago, but something felt off—it was the day before New Year's, yet there was no sign of the Ghost Burial Squad.
"Look over there."
Yvonne muttered, and I glanced over. A new calendar hung on the wall, but the date was December 30, 1997. I was stunned—this was fourteen years ago, a full year after the Ghost Burial Squad arrived.
After that, Darren Rong and his sister stayed at the Village Chief's house. The Chief drank until dawn before finally crawling into bed, reeking of alcohol.
The next day, the village was bustling. Many busy villagers took a break, and every household was cleaning for the new year. The Village Chief's house was filled with people asking him to write couplets.
But I didn't see Darren Ming, the Chief's son. Later, I overheard villagers asking whether Ming would return for New Year's, but the Chief replied helplessly that his son was busy in Linland County and wouldn't be coming back.
Darren Ming was a civil servant in the county. He had left the village years ago and only returned occasionally, but it had already been a year or two since his last visit.
Time ticked by, and as night fell, the Chief waited for the children to sleep before pulling out paper and pen to write a letter. He planned to persuade his son to come back and inherit the role of Village Chief.
The Chief wore a look of sorrow and reluctance. After finishing the letter, he went to bed. The letter's contents were simple: he was old, planning to leave for a distant place, but their family had been Village Chiefs for generations, and tradition couldn't change.
The young Darren Rong noticed the Chief's strange behavior during this period and found it odd. On the night of December 31st, at ten o'clock, the Chief packed his things. He had already given the letter to a villager earlier that day, asking them to deliver it to his son in the city.
The Chief tiptoed out of the house, and at that moment, two small figures followed—Darren Rong and his sister.
"Brother, don't go. If the Chief finds out, he'll scold us."
Darren Rong ignored his sister's warning. The Chief was heading toward their house, which was near Nameless Lake, making Darren even more curious.
Darren had seen the Chief head into the woods behind their house more than once before.
On a rarely traveled path, the Chief pressed forward with a flashlight. Behind him, Darren held his sister's hand, following the faint light.
Soon, the Chief reached a secluded but open spot. I saw two stone statues, though the mirror's image was blurry. The statues were painted in red, yellow, and black.
"It's the totem of some ancient tribe."
Yvonne spoke up. I saw the Chief approach and quietly sit between the statues, drinking and staring at the watch on his wrist.
Darren and his sister watched from the side as time passed. Soon, the Chief was drunk.
"Dad, I did what you asked. It all ends with me."
Time ticked by. The Chief stood up, pulled out a knife, and cut his palm, letting blood drip onto the statues. As midnight approached, the ritual continued.
Suddenly, a bitter wind began to blow. With it came wailing sounds from all directions, growing louder and louder.
Darren's sister screamed in terror. The Chief's flashlight swept over, revealing the siblings, and he rushed toward them.
"What are you doing here? Go back, quickly! If you don't leave now, you never will. The man-eating Outcast Village is about to open."
The Chief shouted anxiously, then pushed Darren and his sister. They ran, but a violent gust blocked their path.
Darren and his sister were swept up by the unnatural wind. It didn't disturb the flowers and grass, but it could lift people off the ground.
"What do you want from us, you monster? When will you let us go? Ah..."
The Chief roared. In the mirror, we saw the two totems open up like giant mouths, revealing a faint image of a village inside. The Chief blocked the mouth, shouting for the siblings to run.
But Darren and his sister were already being sucked in. Strange laughter echoed from the translucent mouth. The Chief was pulled in too, looking back with deep worry.
"Why... Why did it come to this? Why did you follow me here?"
As soon as he finished speaking, the Chief was sucked inside. Darren's sister followed. Just as Darren was about to be pulled in, the giant mouth vanished.
Stunned, Darren screamed and ran back to the village, waking everyone up. They rushed over, calling out as they went, but nobody believed his story.
In the woods, there was no clearing—just dense forest. Darren was shocked, repeating his story to the villagers, but gradually, no one would listen. Day after day, he searched the woods for his sister.
After receiving the letter, the Chief's son returned months later, but Darren was already out of his mind.
The mirror showing these images vanished before Yvonne and me. I swallowed and looked behind Nameless Lake, at the woods. The forest had been renovated, with paths and even stairways up the mountains.
"Let's go, Miss Yvonne. If we find those two totems, we should be able to find the passage."
As I spoke, Yvonne and I slowly floated upward.