We arrived at the underground archive. It was empty. Hugh Thompson led me to a filing cabinet and pulled out a case file.
This was a case from three years ago—a shadow entity that found a substitute. Team 11 of the Ghost Burial Squad was dispatched, but every member was possessed by that shadow and wiped out.
But as I read the file, I grew suspicious. The case had already been stamped with two large red 'Resolved' marks. After the team was wiped out, there was no follow-up—very strange.
"Now you see, Ethan. There are plenty of other cases like this. They were marked as resolved, but someone’s involvement is missing from the process. I’ve found over thirty such cases."
As Hugh spoke, my confusion deepened.
"By the way, look at this. On my phone, there’s a woman named Rachel Lan. Her contact’s been saved for five months now."
I hurriedly pulled out my phone. Hugh took it from me, and his expression changed instantly. He clutched his head, looking as if he was in pain.
"Hugh, are you alright?"
Hugh waved his hand, shaking his head.
"Ethan, our memories have been altered. And it’s not just you—every Ghost Burial Squad member familiar with this person in the files has had their memories changed." Hugh then walked over to the desk with the computer and began checking something.
After entering Rachel Lan’s information, nothing came up. We returned upstairs and found Chief Stone. The three of us went to his office and used his authorized account to search carefully.
There was absolutely no information to be found.
Chief Stone and Hugh Thompson sat silently on the sofa, smoking and watching us.
Just then, the phone on Chief Stone’s desk rang. He hurried to answer it, listened for a while, then turned to look at me.
"Ethan, it’s for you. A woman—judging by her voice, she must be a real beauty, haha."
I gave a casual response and walked over to pick up the phone.
"Hello, this is Ethan Zhang."
"Hello, I’m Helen Lane. Can we meet? Just you, alone."
Her voice was gentle—she sounded like a woman in her thirties. I was surprised and let out a soft "ah."
"Why?"
"I’m Rachel Lan’s mother. I’d like to meet you."
My heart skipped a beat. I remembered the contact for Rachel Lan on my phone, saved five months ago.
In the end, I nodded and agreed. I explained the situation to Chief Stone and Hugh Thompson. Hugh decided to drive me there, and before I left, Chief Stone reminded me to be careful.
I arranged to meet the woman named Helen Lane at a café called Lanshan on East Jian Road. It wasn’t far from the Ghost Burial Squad headquarters.
"Ethan, take this notebook and record everything she tells you. Make a note of it—if I forget, all of this is real."
I responded with a simple "okay."
At 3:30, the car stopped in front of Lanshan Café. Through the glass window, I saw quite a few men and women inside. I looked around, then walked in.
"Be careful, Ethan."
I went inside, looking around. The staff were busy, and then a waiter approached me.
"You must be Mr. Ethan Zhang. Our owner is waiting for you upstairs."
I replied with an "okay," glancing at the spiral staircase behind the cashier. The café was circular, with the cashier in the center. The décor was elegant, clean, and bright, with plenty of customers seated inside.
I walked up the spiral stairs. Upstairs were a series of private rooms. As soon as I arrived, I saw a beautiful woman with long, flowing hair and delicate features. She had a tall, graceful figure and a gentle smile on her slender, slightly curved face. She wore black knee-high boots, a sky-blue skirt, and a wide, dark coat, arms folded, exuding a confident aura.
"Ethan Zhang, why are you so late?"
I replied awkwardly and walked over. Without another word, she grabbed my arm and led me to a private room.
Looking at Helen Lane, I guessed she was in her thirties—very beautiful, with an air of mature elegance and gentle eyes.
"You lost my daughter, and now you’ve forgotten her."
Helen Lane suddenly said this. I was startled. She took out a photo—a beautiful woman, resembling her. The moment I saw it, a chill ran through me.
Suddenly, Helen Lane stood up, walked over, and reached out her hand. I awkwardly shrank back, but her warm hand touched my forehead.
"Looks like your memory really has been altered!"
"What exactly is going on, Ms. Lane?"
Suddenly, Helen Lane grabbed my cheek, glaring at me in anger.
"Still calling me Ms. Lane? Shouldn’t you be calling me mother-in-law?"
I replied with another awkward "okay."
"Don’t judge by appearances—I’m already forty-six. You’re married to my daughter, and you still call me that."
I sprang to my feet, clutching my head. In my memory, there was a woman, but I couldn’t see her face. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t recall.
"Even though Martin Lane admitted you married my daughter, I haven’t accepted it yet. Ethan Zhang, I’m warning you—if you don’t bring my daughter back safe and sound, you’ll never have a peaceful life."
I stared blankly at Helen Lane, completely lost. The Martin Lane she mentioned was Uncle Mo, a beggar friend of mine. I remembered him lying in my apartment building—he was from the Underworld.
"Aunt Lane, are you from the Underworld too?"
"More or less," Helen Lane said with a touch of sadness, sitting down across from me.
Then she began telling me all about Rachel Lan—how we met, and everything else, in great detail. It felt like listening to a story. Aside from a vague sense of sadness, I couldn’t remember anything about Rachel Lan.
(This section is not part of the story and can be skipped.)
I kept jotting notes in my notebook. Then Helen Lane stood up and left, telling me to wait. After a short while, she returned with a piece of paper—it had an address, a phone number, and the name of a man called Wang Jianhui. The address was in N City.
"Go find him, Ethan Zhang. This time, you’re on your own. Your opponent is tough—I can’t help you. Bring my daughter back, not a hair missing."
Helen Lane spoke like she was giving an order, her tone firm. I took the note and stood up.
"Understood, Aunt Lane. I’ll do my best." Even now, I couldn’t remember anything about Rachel Lan—just a sense of loss and sadness.
"By the way, Aunt Lane, just as you said—our memories of Rachel Lan have been completely altered. Anyone close to her can’t remember, but you..."
"What mother could ever forget her own child?"
I nodded seriously. Helen Lane walked up to me and smiled.
"Remember to take care of my husband. That man may be tough, but he still needs looking after."
I replied with an "okay," then suddenly said—
"Uncle Mo is your husband?"
Helen Lane smiled and nodded. I muttered quietly to myself.
"Uncle Mo has a wife?"
After leaving the café, I found Hugh Thompson still waiting for me. I briefly explained the situation. He took my notebook and read my notes carefully, then started laughing.
"What’s so funny?"
"Now it all makes sense, Ethan. I still don’t know why your mother-in-law said only you could solve this."
I looked at Hugh Thompson seriously.
"Ethan, you’re on your own now. Remember to write down everything you do each day and keep it with you—like a diary."
I replied with an "okay." Hugh immediately made a call, asking a friend to help get me a plane ticket, and then took me straight to the airport.
All the way there, I was restless and distracted, trying hard to recall Rachel Lan’s face. Even though Helen Lane had shown me her photo, I still couldn’t remember a thing about her.
"It’s alright, Ethan. Like Chief Stone said, even if you forget something important for a while, it doesn’t just disappear."
With a heavy heart, I boarded the plane at 5 o’clock. Earlier, Hugh Thompson had asked Wang Xiaomao to look into Wang Jianhui for me—apparently, he’s considered mentally ill.
It seems things started two years ago. Every day, Wang Jianhui would call, put ads in the paper, and contact everyone he knew, repeatedly warning them not to forget him. Eventually, people stopped wanting to deal with him.
Records show that Wang Jianhui is an orphan with no relatives, but he inherited a decent estate from his ancestors. He’s unemployed, and once he meets someone, he clings to them, begging not to be forgotten. He’s been in and out of psychiatric hospitals many times, but aside from that, he’s perfectly normal—intelligent, living like anyone else.
I slept for a bit. At 7:20, the plane landed smoothly in N City. I remembered that just a day ago, I’d come back from N City after a solo trip.
"Wait, what fun is there in traveling alone?"
Just as Hugh Thompson said, I felt a wave of unease and discomfort.
After getting off the plane, Wang Xiaomao was already waiting for me. He glanced behind me.
"Hey, where’s that sister?"
I let out a surprised "ah."
"Rachel Lan?"
"Seems so. Well, never mind—I can’t remember. Come on, Ethan, didn’t expect you back so soon."