At night, Linxianzhuang.
A dilapidated building stood by the lake. It looked as if it had been abandoned for a long time. Spiderweb-like cracks covered its cement walls, and light shone through the crack of its half-open door.
A figure wrapped from head to toe in gray cloth walked along the path, drawing closer. In his left hand, he held a candlestick. The flame atop it flickered in the wind like an old man on his last legs, seemingly about to go out at any moment.
What was truly astonishing was that the flame was not the usual bright orange. It glowed a ghastly green, like a ghostly eye, giving everything an eerie air.
The Candle Bearer stopped in front of the building's entrance and reached out. Before he could knock, the door creaked open by itself. After hesitating for a moment, he went inside.
Visibility inside the building was poor. A pale green mist filled the air, swirling slowly as if it were alive.
If Jiang Cheng had seen this, he would have immediately realized that the green mist was the same as the one on that bus. But the Candle Bearer seemed entirely accustomed to it and continued walking into the unknown.
The moment the candlestick in his hand touched the green mist, its faint flame blazed fiercely. As the light grew stronger, the surroundings became clearer.
At least from the inside, this was no run-down cement building. Fresh flooring covered the ground, and as the Candle Bearer walked across it, more and more of the scene came into view.
There were people here—lots and lots of people.
They sat around table after table, drinking and singing, playing drinking games. The space was far larger than it had appeared from outside. In the middle was an expansive area