Time flew by, the years slipped away like a shuttle—before anyone realized, a whole year had passed.
On the outskirts of the county town, a sprawling mansion had finally been completed. Samantha Chen led her team, working day and night through wind and rain, doing everything possible to finish the job. The city's many craftsmen were all impressed by Samantha Chen—though not yet twenty, her perseverance and patience were astonishing, achieving what many might never accomplish in a lifetime.
In a few days, Tan Tian and Yue Que would return for inspection. Over the past year, they had only come twice, each time leaving with satisfied expressions.
Early in the morning, the mansion was bustling with activity. Kenneth Lane, eager to celebrate the completion, ordered two sheep, a pig, dozens of pounds of fish, plus chickens and ducks, and several large vats of celebratory wine. The workers began preparations at dawn—after a year of labor, a grand and luxurious mansion had finally risen, and everyone felt a deep sense of pride.
"What's wrong, Samantha? You don't look very happy today."
Samantha Chen shook her head. She smiled and sat quietly in her chair, sipping tea. Over the past year, she had asked nearly every worker about David Chen—only a handful had heard of him, and most knew nothing. Even those who had heard of David Chen had never actually seen him. Her quiet concern and persistent search for her father weighed heavily on her heart.
He had supposedly come to the county town, yet there was no trace of him. This troubled Samantha Chen deeply. What could have happened to her father? Over the years, the village chief would occasionally bring news, and her father had sent back a few letters. After learning to read, Samantha Chen had seen them herself—they were unmistakably her father's flamboyant calligraphy, bold and flowing, a style she could never mistake.
Her father also sent back some money every year. It wasn't much, but enough for Samantha and her mother to get by. As time went on, Samantha grew more and more puzzled by her father's disappearance.
"I'm planning to go back to the village to take care of some things."
Kenneth Lane seemed to sense something but said nothing, only telling her that if she ever needed help, she could always find him in the county town.
After three days and nights of celebration, Samantha Chen rested for a day. Early the next morning, she returned to her hometown through the morning mist. She had asked the village chief several times, but he never revealed her father's whereabouts. All she knew for sure was that her father was still alive.
Five days later, Samantha was back in the village. Before her stood the bridge, rusted but sturdy. She planned to refurbish it in a few days.
Standing at the bridgehead, Samantha gazed at the river. She remembered bringing meals to her father while he built the bridge, and every time, he would lift her onto the embankment to watch them work.
Samantha smiled as she returned to the village. Her arrival caused a stir; many villagers came to the Chen household. Some pointed and criticized, blaming Mrs. Chen for not raising her daughter properly—how could a girl of her age do work meant for men?
Samantha remained silent, listening to her mother's scolding and nagging. Eventually, the crowd dispersed. That night, her mother asked about David Chen.
"Mom, I spent over a year in the county town and found no news of Father."
Mrs. Chen looked disappointed but said nothing. Her tears had long since dried. No news was good news, at least it gave them hope.
"Mom, I’m going to the village chief’s house. Here, take this—it's what I earned."
Mrs. Chen nodded, saying nothing, her face full of worry as she watched Samantha leave.
When Samantha arrived at the village chief’s house and knocked, the chief was visibly moved to see her after a year. He quickly invited her inside and asked in detail about her past year.
"Sigh, you're just like your father—stubborn as an ox. No one can ever talk you out of anything."
"Chief, can you tell me who brings the letters each time? I want to ask about my father's whereabouts."
The chief's eyes softened, then he nodded, his face full of helplessness and conflict, growing more troubled by the moment.
"Chief, did something happen to my father?"
Samantha sensed something was wrong and pressed urgently. The chief only nodded, remaining silent, unable to find the words.
Samantha grew increasingly anxious. The chief took out a jug of wine, poured two cups, and began to drink with her.
"Actually..."
The chief was already a little drunk, still silent. After hesitating for a while, he finally spoke.
"Your father died ten years ago."
With a sharp clatter, Samantha's wine cup fell to the floor. She shook violently, tears streaming uncontrollably as she swallowed hard.
"What really happened..."
The chief explained: The village had built the bridge without county approval and paid no taxes. Nearby villages did the same, but the county wanted to make an example. They demanded the village hand over David Chen to take the blame—a crime punishable by death, meant to warn others.
Only the chief knew the truth. He and David Chen concocted a lie, claiming David was just taking a shift. David arranged his affairs and wrote several letters, instructing the chief to deliver them to Samantha and her mother periodically. The money sent each year came from the chief. David asked him to wait a long time before revealing the truth, hoping it would be easier for them to accept.
The chief had carried this burden for years. When Samantha was about to leave, he had wanted to tell her everything, but held back. He decided to let her spend time away before revealing the truth.
Samantha collapsed to the ground, clutching her arms. The chief’s words hit her like a bolt from the blue. She trembled uncontrollably. I stood quietly in the corner, wanting to help her up, but couldn’t.
The sudden blow was too much for this seventeen-year-old girl. She couldn’t accept her father’s death, or all the sacrifices he had made for her and her mother.
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"Xiaomin, your father left one last letter, to be given to you and your mother after I told you the truth."
The chief went into the inner room. Samantha was still trembling, twin tracks of tears on her cheeks. I quietly walked over and crouched down, but suddenly noticed Samantha’s eyes had vanished, replaced by two black voids. I looked around—the room, the house, everything was vanishing. The dream was collapsing.
It’s a nightmare.
I quickly took out a balloon, but the moment I did, my eyes widened—the balloon didn’t explode. Instead, it began to shrink. I hurriedly put it away. This nightmare was devouring everything. I grabbed Samantha’s arm.
"Wake up!"
I shouted, but Samantha remained in a state of collapse, completely unconscious.
I didn’t know how many times Samantha had had this dream. All I could feel was a deep, overwhelming sadness in the nightmare, one even a good dream couldn’t break.
"Your father kept the truth from you for so long because he didn’t want you to be consumed by grief. Wake up—the pain of a craftsman has already passed."
No matter what I said or did, it was useless. The dream was collapsing bit by bit. If I couldn’t wake Samantha, I’d disappear along with it.
There must be a way.
I recalled what Ouyang Meng once told me: In the dream world, dream ghosts devour nightmares. But this dream was different—something prevented it from connecting to the waking world, so the nightmare was self-destructing. To stop it, I had to find the key, something good that could wake the dreamer.
The letter.
In an instant, I rushed into the inner room, but the chief’s hands were empty—no letter. I looked around; the upper half of the village had already vanished, everything was swallowed by darkness.
Where is it?
I looked around, unleashing a torrent of ghostly threads. My power still wasn’t enough. Frustrated, I relied on instinct—there was no time for caution.
Instinct... coexistence...
With a buzz, half my body felt hollowed out in an instant. I swallowed hard as my form continued to fade. In that moment, I sensed the presence around me—malice. This nightmare was born from the will of darkness.
A dream within a dream—this was my predicament.
Where is it?
I kept searching. The gray humanoid on my back wouldn’t last much longer. I dropped to the ground, crouching as I scanned my surroundings.
Suddenly, a strange laugh echoed in my ears. I instantly released my instinctive power and lunged forward, reaching out. From the darkness, I grabbed something.
I dragged it out—a grotesque creature with a pointed mouth and monkey-like face. My eyes widened, but then I saw the monster, less than a meter tall, clutching a letter.
Who are you?
I roared, but the creature vanished instantly. I clung tightly to the letter.
Give it back! I said give it back, do you hear me?
I shouted, then suddenly pulled out a balloon and pressed it against the letter. Just as I suspected, the purple balloon instantly devoured the letter. The vanishing world around me stopped. The monkey-faced creature poked its head out.
"You’ve come this far, Ethan Zhang. Next time, you won’t be so lucky."
The voice faded. Instantly, the purple balloon floated up, bursting bit by bit. A streak of bright white light shone, and everything around me returned to normal.
I rushed into the house. Samantha had regained her senses, silent tears streaming down her face as she clutched the letter, trembling.
"Tomorrow morning, I’ll take you there. Your father is buried in the woods across from the village."