Chapter 3

After rushing through a full day of classes, Lin Sheng turned down Shen Yan's suggestion to grab snacks together that afternoon.

It wasn't that he didn't want to go; he quite liked many of the snacks sold on the school's food street. Unfortunately, he could only afford to spend an average of three yuan a day, so he had to be frugal.

He boarded the free bus heading home.

Lin Sheng sat by the window, watching the ancient, weathered streets flash past on his right.

Those winding, folk-style floral and bird patterns carved into the edges of shop signs and the corners of walls made him involuntarily recall the nightmare from the previous night.

"Ding. Next stop, Old Town Textile Factory." The standard female voice in Celine Language pulled Lin Sheng back from his thoughts.

He picked up his gray-white school bag, stood up from his seat, and offered it to an elderly woman who had just boarded. He then grabbed the overhead handle, slowly squeezing through the crowd as he moved toward the door.

"Stop shoving! Are you trying to get us killed?"

"Watch it, young man! Don't push everyone else."

"My foot! You stepped on my foot! What is wrong with you?"

The people being jostled around him let out a cacophony of complaints, like children's toys that squeaked the moment they were touched.

Lin Sheng remained unmoved. He was one meter seventy-five tall, neither thin nor fat, with healthy, powerful muscles hidden beneath his school uniform. Aside from skin that was as pale as a Caucasian's, he had no flaws.

Pfft.

The bus doors opened automatically. Lin Sheng hopped off, took a deep breath, and glanced back into the vehicle.

Seven or eight more people had squeezed on, and the entire bus looked like an expired tin can about to burst. The doors slowly hissed shut, and the vehicle pulled away.

Ten meters to the right of the bus stop was his residential complex—Huilian Residential District.

The entrance was a circular iron archway, with the characters for "Huilian Residential District" hanging slightly crookedly.

Both sides of the gate were lined with elderly men and women carrying baskets of vegetables for sale. Some residents stood before the stalls, haggling over prices.

By late afternoon, the sweltering temperature had dropped to the low twenties, making it far less oppressive than during the day.

Lin Sheng passed through the slightly rusted red-painted iron gate and walked straight along the slope toward the depths of the complex.

He reached the fifth building and turned right, entering the stairwell of Unit 11.

The walls of the stairwell were plastered with all sorts of small advertisements—locksmiths, sewer repair services, moving companies; it was a chaotic mess of everything imaginable.

As he walked up the stairs, he suddenly felt something sticky under his foot. He lifted his sole to see that he had stepped in someone's spilled ice cream. The inner side of his white sneaker was already coated in a fair amount of milky-white cream.

He frowned and scraped his shoe against the edge of a stair step repeatedly. Only after managing to clean it off somewhat did he continue upward.

Reaching the third floor, he pulled out his keys, skillfully unlocked the security door of the first apartment on the left, and stepped inside.

"Dad?" Lin Sheng called out while standing in the entryway.

The house was empty; there wasn't a sound.

He silently changed into his slippers and closed the door behind him.

He walked through the living room and into his bedroom.

Lin Sheng couldn't help but glance at his desk. It felt as if the figure from his dream last night was still sitting in the chair.

He paused in silence, walked over, gently pulled out the chair, and sat down, letting the soft fabric cushion and the hard backrest surround him.

After a full day of classes, a heavy wave of drowsiness washed over him the moment he sat down.

Lin Sheng stood up; he didn't dare sleep at the desk, as the nightmare from the night before was still fresh in his mind.

He had a habit of taking a half-hour nap every afternoon after getting home. Although the nightmare had shaken him, he told himself it was just a dream.

With that thought in mind, he hesitated for a moment before walking to the bed, taking off his school uniform jacket, turning over, and pulling the quilt over his stomach.

The sunset outside the window spilled into the bedroom like blood, landing on the desk and the floor tiles.

In his hazy state, Lin Sheng's consciousness slowly drifted away.

He didn't know how long he had been sleeping in his muddled state.

Suddenly, a faint sound of weeping by his ear jolted him awake from his dream.

Wuu.

The sound was like a woman sobbing, or perhaps singing something.

It was mournful, desperate, and shrill, accompanied by the occasional sound of rapid breathing.

Lin Sheng slowly opened his eyes.

He was lying on the bed again, unable to move a muscle.

In the corner of his vision, a figure in a white dress was still sitting at the desk.

Unlike last time, the girl in the white dress was heaving with rapid, trembling shoulders, emitting thin, terrified gasps. She looked like someone paralyzed by extreme panic.

Plop.

Plop.

Plop.

The sound of footsteps returned.

Lin Sheng could feel someone approaching step by step from the hallway, crossing the living room and drawing near to the bedroom.

The hazy sound of footsteps grew clearer and louder.

The woman at the desk wept more urgently, her shoulders trembling faster. She looked as if she might bolt and flee at any moment.

The footsteps drew closer.

Click.

The bedroom door slowly creaked open.

Lin Sheng's scalp tightened; for some reason, a thick sense of dread welled up in his heart.

Everything went quiet for a brief moment.

Rip!

Suddenly, the quilt was yanked upward.

Lin Sheng felt his entire body go numb, his eyes snapping wide, his pupils constricted.

That person had somehow reached the foot of the bed without him noticing, grabbing the thin quilt and lunging at him.

"Ah!!!"

Lin Sheng jerked his head up, sitting bolt upright in bed. His mind was a chaotic blur.

Hah. Hah. Hah.

He panted rapidly, drenched in sweat, his T-shirt soaked through.

"I... I..." He wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

His mind was a complete blank.

He sat there half-upright on the bed, dazed and motionless for a full ten minutes.

He did his best to steady his breathing until his heartbeat finally slowed, no longer thumping like a drum, before he looked around the room.

The bedroom was empty, and the silver crescent moon outside the window cast a delicate, gauze-like glow.

Lin Sheng reached up to wipe his forehead, his hand coming away slick with sweat.

"What the hell? To think I'd dream of that even during a nap..." He slowly leaned back against the headboard, breathing deeply.

"It's the same dream as before. This time, it was even closer." A thick sense of panic surged in his heart.

However, his habit of staying calm allowed him to suppress his racing heart.

"Fear won't solve anything. I must stay calm."

From a very young age, he had understood one truth: the more flustered one becomes, the easier it is to make mistakes and waste time and energy.

Only by staying calm could one find the fastest way to overcome difficulties.

Lin Sheng continued to take deep breaths, leaning against the headboard, calming his heartbeat time and time again.

About five minutes later, he finally cleared his mind and allowed his emotions to return to normal.

"This dream is getting closer every time. Before, those footsteps were only outside the door, but now they've entered the room and even pulled back my quilt!" Lin Sheng felt as if this were some kind of omen.

He had a feeling that if he allowed the owner of those footsteps to pull back his quilt and grab him, something unimaginable might happen.

He had this premonition—an ominous one.

"I'll wait and see. If I have this dream again, I'll have to find a way to deal with it," Lin Sheng decided. If he could awaken memories of a past life, what else was impossible?