March. In Exile Town, just after the New Year, everything flourished. The streets and alleys were packed with people, and all manner of vibrant activities unfolded in an orderly way.
Samantha Chen stood on the bustling street, delighted by everything around her. She had arrived in Exile Town just yesterday and immediately went to the construction site to ask about David Chen. But all she got were shakes of the head—no one had any news.
At this moment, Samantha Chen was full of hope. She wasn’t discouraged and planned to visit the County Hall today. She’d heard that years ago, Exile Town suffered a wind disaster and the County Hall was damaged, and her father had left during that time. So maybe there, she could find some clue about him.
The street was packed, shoulder to shoulder, and Samantha Chen smiled as she wove her way through the crowd.
"Hey, you look like a carpenter. Are you looking for work?"
Just then, a chubby man with a sycophantic grin suddenly blocked Samantha’s way. She nodded politely.
"That’s easy, then. There’s a family nearby that needs repairs done on their mortuary, but they’re short on hands. No one wants the job, but I’ll pay triple—how about it? One tael."
Samantha Chen laughed and nodded.
"Alright."
"Great! Come with me. What’s your name?"
Samantha Chen.
Samantha replied. The chubby man, Kenneth Lane, introduced himself—he was a broker who found jobs for artisans. But this job was odd, since it was a mortuary, a place for the dead, and most craftsmen refused such work.
"Mr. Lane, I need to go to the County Hall first. By the way, do you know David Chen?"
Samantha asked. Kenneth Lane studied her for a moment, then broke into a smile.
"Of course I know him. Back when the wind disaster hit, he was the hardest-working artisan around."
For a moment, Samantha’s eyes widened. She grabbed Kenneth Lane’s hand and pressed him for details.
"But no one knows where he went after that. Every artisan around here with any experience knows David Chen—he was generous and bold. But that was about ten years ago. So, how are you related to him?"
"Just a relative. I came here hoping to find him."
Samantha felt a chill in her heart. After finally hearing news of her father, it led nowhere. Kenneth Lane didn’t know where David Chen had gone after the wind disaster.
At last, she arrived at Exile Town. With Kenneth Lane accompanying her, she found the County Hall perfectly intact, without a single flaw. Samantha circled the building, and at the back entrance, her eyes widened at the sight of a wall. She reached out to touch it and knew instantly—it was her father’s work. All the other walls had cracked over the years, but the one her father built was still solid, flawless.
With some time to spare, Samantha followed Kenneth Lane out to the Zoe Family Mortuary on the outskirts of Exile Town. The Zoe Family were major merchants here, and the mortuary was one of their properties. Whenever someone died, the body was brought here, but the place had long fallen into disrepair. This time, it was especially important: the County Magistrate’s grandfather was near death and would be brought to the mortuary for a grand burial. Because it was close to the cemetery, the plan was to transfer him straight from the mortuary for a lavish funeral.
The Zoe Family took this business seriously. Since the mortuary was so run-down, they worried it would embarrass the County Magistrate, so they planned to renovate it.
"Here we are. Let me show you inside."
A flock of crows cawed and took off from the mortuary roof. Kenneth Lane opened the door and led Samantha inside. Rows of black lacquered coffins lined the room, reeking of rot. Kenneth quickly handed her a towel, and Samantha used it to cover her nose as she looked around.
Most of the walls had cracked, and the decorations on the Zoe Family Mortuary roof were long since ruined.
"Why didn’t anyone fix it before?"
Samantha asked. Kenneth Lane sighed helplessly.
"It’s not that no one wanted to fix it—no one dared. Let me tell you something strange, but don’t take it the wrong way."
"This place is haunted."
Samantha burst out laughing. Ghosts were just stories her mother used to scare her into staying home at night. She wasn’t afraid at all. Her father always said, "What’s there to fear? We artisans work with our hands, and even Heaven looks out for us!"
After Samantha agreed to take the repair job, Kenneth Lane paid her in full on the spot. He said the supplies would be delivered tomorrow and suggested she stay at an inn for the night, but Samantha refused—she planned to stay right at the Zoe Family Mortuary.
With a worried look, Kenneth Lane handed her the mortuary key. Samantha settled into a small tile-roofed room beside the Zoe Family Mortuary.
After tidying up the musty bedding, Samantha lay down. She wasn’t used to the smell, but after so many days of exhaustion, she soon fell asleep.
I stood quietly, observing the mortuary with resignation. There really were ghosts here—many of them. I entered the mortuary. Most of the coffins held people who had only recently died.
Within minutes, just after nightfall, a crowd of wandering ghosts poured in. They fought and jostled, all for a breath of yang energy left in the newly dead. Soon, the victors settled into the coffins, drawing out the last traces of life. I looked around—the ghosts here didn’t seem to pose much threat to Samantha.
I’d followed along almost passively, needing little effort. Daylight no longer threatened me—I’d regained some strength, but couldn’t approach Samantha. The tools she carried, meant for artisans, radiated strong yang energy. Even the wandering ghosts kept their distance.
That night, Samantha slept soundly. Early the next morning, packhorses arrived with loads of materials. She was ready to get to work. For some reason, the sight of the dilapidated building made her excited—she was eager to fix it up.
Kenneth Lane watched for a while, then left satisfied, bringing Samantha some wine and meat.
Soon, Samantha was alone in the Zoe Family Mortuary. Even in broad daylight, the place remained eerie and forbidding—hardly anyone ever came near.
All day, Samantha worked diligently, fixing much of the damaged roof and part of the outer wall. She planned to finish the exterior repairs early the next morning and then tackle the more complicated interior.
Samantha was as hardworking as any young man—by evening, she was drinking and eating meat, looking completely content, just like David Chen used to.
I could only wait quietly nearby. After all, this was a dream—I could do nothing but watch. When the dream turned dangerous, that would be my moment to act.
Ouyang Meng had explained everything to me in detail. Usually, these memory dreams weren’t too tricky, but given the darkness I was in was plagued by nightmares, things were more complicated. I just had to wait for the dream to collapse, then use this good dream to devour the nightmare.
The only thing I had to watch out for was not interfering with Samantha’s dream. If I did, the dream might branch off in unpredictable ways and become much harder to handle.
For three days straight, Samantha worked much faster than Kenneth Lane expected. The exterior repairs were done, but just then, the County Magistrate’s grandfather died. The body would arrive by evening, and Kenneth, anxious, urged Samantha to hurry.
But seeing Samantha still working methodically, he told her that only the appearance needed to be fixed for now. Samantha followed his instructions.
Sure enough, by evening, a redwood coffin with black lacquer was brought in. But I immediately sensed something was wrong—the person inside had been dead for at least a month.
The body would be kept in the mortuary for two days before burial.
Kenneth Lane told Samantha to leave, but she refused, insisting she wouldn’t abandon the job halfway.
That night, I watched the County Magistrate’s grandfather’s coffin. Sure enough, there was a Maoshan Sect array on the bottom, with ink lines traced across the coffin and a yellow talisman stuck to the corpse’s forehead. Inside lay a shriveled zombie.
I didn’t know what kind of spell it was, but judging by the coffin, the zombie could break out at any time. The array was definitely a Maoshan Sect technique, but whoever set it wasn’t very skilled—it wouldn’t hold the zombie for long.
The worst part was how cold and damp the mortuary was—perfect conditions for the zombie. Sure enough, by midnight, the coffin began to stir. The zombie inside was absorbing foul energy, which gathered around the coffin because it hadn’t been properly dealt with.
"Looks like this is a nightmare after all."
I understood immediately, and couldn’t help but worry for Samantha. But since this was a dream, I couldn’t intervene—my only option was to shout in her ear while she slept, urging her to run.
I went straight into Samantha’s room. She was dead drunk, so I bent down and shouted in her ear.
"Run! This place is far too dangerous for you."
Samantha seemed to react, turning over in her sleep. I could only hope it worked. But the next morning, she was up early and back to work, as if my warning had been nothing but a passing breeze.