David Wu crouched beside the well, holding a collection of blood drawn from the villagers, dripping it steadily into the well.
Hey, hey, it's just that the days are getting shorter. What's there to investigate?
Quentin Yuan stood to the side, looking helpless as he watched David Wu repeat this experiment for months.
Quentin, any strange detail could be the key to why this village is experiencing a time reversal. We can't overlook any clue. You always sleep through Skylar Tian's lectures, don't you?
Quentin leaned against the wall, watching as David Wu finished dripping all the blood in, then stared intently at the time.
Quentin, did you know that the twelve markers on this watch lose half a segment at eleven o'clock? It's a strange phenomenon, as if the watch was designed this way—as if this world only has twenty-three hours, and the distances between the eleven markers seem identical.
Sigh, alright, you keep at it. You always like to study these weird things. I'm off to play mahjong.
Although the daily research into these strange phenomena was tedious, David Wu never felt bored. Instead, he meticulously recorded everything each day.
At that moment, Cynthia Mu walked in, carrying a tray of food. She set it down gently beside David Wu, who was still engrossed in his notes. David thanked her, then stood up, but kept his eyes fixed on the watch on his wrist.
David Wu then took out a semi-transparent sheet of paper, pressed his watch onto it, and asked Cynthia Mu to use a pencil to trace the outline and mark all twelve segments.
After comparing the results, David Wu seemed to discover something astonishing and shouted excitedly.
Just as I thought, Cynthia, I've never seen this before—the segments really do spread apart as time passes, until there's only eleven and a half segments left.
Cynthia Mu nodded. She didn't leave, but stayed to assist David Wu.
As they kept repeating the process, something strange happened in the fifth year—black currents began to appear in the well.
But these currents did not harm the human body in any way.
No matter what methods the five of them tried, they always found it strange; the nature of these black currents remained a mystery they couldn't solve.
After five years, their faces showed anxiety, fear, and all sorts of negative emotions. Communication grew sparse, but David Wu stubbornly persisted, determined to unravel the mysteries here.
Why do you keep trying so hard, when it's clear there might never be any answers?
Cynthia Mu, unable to contain the oppressive feelings inside her, finally lost control and shouted, her emotions spilling out.
Oh, Miss Cynthia Mu, I never expected you—the calmest among us—to finally crack in a place like this.
Cynthia Mu hugged her knees and sat down, her face pale and her eyes vacant.
No matter what happens, we must never give up hope, right, Miss Mu? All of us in the Ghost Burial Squad have faced different circumstances since childhood, but the ghosts we've encountered are the same. That's why we've gathered here—to take on this mission together. When you feel alone, think back to the old days; maybe that will help.
David Wu continued experimenting at the well, setting up all sorts of formations. Cynthia watched quietly, but a hint of vitality returned to her eyes.
Miss Mu, don't you love to draw? Whenever you have free time, I always see you sketching. Go ahead, do some drawing.
David Wu smiled as he spoke. Cynthia nodded and stood up.
Thank you.
That simple word seemed to give David Wu strength, as if he had found new resolve. He threw himself into his work again, trying out every formation he could think of. His notebook was filled with diagrams, and he kept experimenting tirelessly.
But in the end, their endurance was stretched beyond its limit. In the seventh year, Quentin Yuan, still just a child, was the first to break—he could no longer stand the endless repetition, the same sights every day.
Not just the bandits, but even the villagers became fodder for his ghosts. Everything erupted at once—the accumulated tensions made the five barely willing to speak to each other.
They gradually stopped communicating, while David Wu kept working tirelessly, desperate to solve their predicament. At that moment, he seemed to think of a solution.
One day, David Wu gathered the other four together. They sat in silence, lifeless and mute.
Everyone, I called you here today because I've finally found something. We might be able to escape.
Those words stunned the others. They all looked up at David Wu, disbelief written on their faces.
Really?
Quentin Yuan nearly lost his mind from joy. Ecstasy swept across his face as he rushed over and gripped David Wu's arm tightly, unable to contain his excitement.
Of course it's real, Quentin. Ow, my hand—let go a bit.
In that instant, hope blazed in the eyes of all four, piercing through the darkness that had weighed on them for years.
Let me explain everything slowly.
David Wu began to speak, slowly and deliberately. He had tried countless formations to probe the well, and the one thing he discovered was that the black mist that seeped out had a unique property—it ran counter to time itself. Simply put, the mist devoured a portion of time.
It all sounded unbelievable, but David Wu had discovered this through a Yin-Yang Two Forms Formation—a simple array originally meant to test feng shui and the flow of ley lines, but able to manifest conflicting forces.
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When the black and white energies manifested, David Wu realized the white must represent time. During the time reversal, the unusual white mist rising from the ground pointed to this conclusion. The black mist, on the other hand, was antagonistic to the white.
What happens next?
Quentin Yuan was the first to ask. Skylar Tian just smoked in silence, while Cynthia Mu and Luo Shuiyun also began to question what was going on.
Honestly, I haven't found any solution yet.
The moment David Wu said this, the expressions on all four faces changed again.
Please listen to me. If we just sit and wait, nothing will change. For seven years I've kept trying, using hundreds of different formations, hoping to find a way out. And now...
Skylar Tian sighed and gave a bitter smile.
In the end, isn't this just your own theory? Without evidence, it's nothing.
Yes, it's my theory. But if you want proof, I believe this world is divided into Yin and Yang, and time works the same way. Since time can flow and accumulate, why can't it be taken back? If we want to escape, we have to break through layer by layer, travel back through each thirteen-year cycle, and return to our entry point—January 1, 2000.
I was completely stunned. I'd never considered this before. If we can travel to January 1, 1895, maybe David Wu is right.
Heh, even if we know time can accumulate and be devoured, how do we get back? Are we supposed to let that thing eat us?
Skylar Tian said this, and David Wu just smiled and nodded. The next day, David Wu had the four quickly collect villagers' blood, then poured it into the well.
Once again, the black mist overflowed.
Then David Wu tore open his shirt, stood beside the dry well, and pulled out a knife, aiming it at his heart.
The four watched in shock.
I've tried it before—the black mist reacts with the five organs: the heart (fire), lungs (metal), liver (wood), spleen (earth), and kidneys (water). Together, they form the five elements, and this mist can harm your organs.
David Wu explained that when the black mist was thick, he'd cough and feel discomfort in his abdomen and sides. Through repeated self-experimentation, he'd sensed these effects.
Now, David Wu intended to cut out his own organs to see how the black mist reacted. If the mist corroded them, maybe he could try the next step—though he didn't say what that was.
The four watched David Wu in silence, helpless.
Would one of you do it? I can't bring myself to do it. It's fine—even if I die here, I'll be alive again tomorrow, won't I, Miss Luo?
Previously, Luo Shuiyun had tried to kill herself, unable to bear the pressure, but the next day she didn't die—she just woke up in the western woods.
But the four hesitated, afraid that if what David Wu said was true, he might never come back.
Heh, back in the Ghost Burial Squad, we all witnessed how many comrades died. I'm not going to repeat the talk about sacrifice—it's not about fighting ghosts faster, it's just that we're all out of options. Since that's the case, we have to act. Even if I die this time, at least you'll have a way forward.