The stairway of "Thought": "Coincidence"

Ten ten.

Hu Zihao finished using the toilet with Han He and Shi Yu accompanying him. The three said goodbye and parted ways, and soon it was lights-out in the dorms.

Han He went straight back to his room. Once the lights went out, almost all his other roommates chose to go to bed. Only two still sat beneath their bunks, reading by desk lamps.

Han He sat below his bunk and thought for a moment, then took a small cat-shaped bag out of his cabinet.

He carefully unzipped the little cat bag and took out its contents.

The things inside had been carefully wrapped in oiled paper. Han He set the bundle on the desk and peeled back the paper layer by layer, soon revealing what was inside.

A small, old-fashioned knife, five little bundles of different kinds of twigs, several animal teeth and feathers, and two small bottles of liquid. One was clear; the other looked like old blood. As Han He shook it, the reddish-brown liquid softly lapped at the glass walls.

Han He did nothing, merely glanced over everything to make sure nothing was missing, then wrapped it all up again, planning to find a secluded place tomorrow before taking action.

It was best to be cautious in the dormitory building. With that thought, Han He put the wrapped bundle into his inner pocket. Then he went to bed too.

Shi Yu made a round of the rooms, then chatted with his roommates for a while when he returned, tentatively asking a few questions about the disappearances. But he received the answers he feared most.

Shi Yu's heart sank.

His room housed students from different classes, not just his own. And when he asked:

"I haven't seen your class's math representative going to the teacher's office lately. The teacher's been bringing the math papers over himself," the other boy answered:

"Huh? You've got it wrong, haven't you? Our teacher's always brought the papers himself."

Impossible.

Shi Yu clearly remembered that just a week ago, his roommate had been making fun of his class's math representative, calling him a sucker for getting stuck with a lazy teacher who made him fetch even a single pen in advance.

Following Han He's reminder, Shi Yu had deliberately made a round after parting with Hu Zihao and Han He, discovering that several rooms were missing people. The answers from those rooms fell into three categories.

"I think he took leave." "I think he's sick."

Those who gave answers like these were not in the same class as the missing students.

"Huh? No one's ever been there."

Those who answered this way were in the same class as the missing person.

When both kinds of answers appeared in the same room, the entire room would suddenly fall into an anomalous silence. Then they would forget the question and ask what Shi Yu had come for.

That round had frightened Shi Yu so badly that cold sweat soaked his back.

And the people in his own room had forgotten the missing students, because they were classmates.

That Evil Sin's ability really did involve memory. And after Yang Desheng appeared, its manipulation in this area had grown even more terrifying.

But why hadn't he and Han He been affected?

Was it because the two of them were special? Han He was one thing-he clearly knew he was an "Heir."

But what about him?

I'll ask again tomorrow. I just need to get through tonight safely. For now, all I can do is put my hopes in Han He and Hu Zihao.

Shi Yu buried his head under the covers, wanting to be an ostrich once more.

There's nothing wrong with burying my head in the sand. I've already done it four times, haven't I?

That was what Shi Yu thought.

If I really am special, then as long as I keep praying it won't set its sights on me, I'll make it to Friday no matter what, won't I?

Shi Yu wrapped the covers a little tighter around himself.

Then I'll transfer schools and call the police. Just like before, I only need to do what I can, right?

Shi Yu rubbed his palm.

But how many more people will have to die before then?

Shi Yu was beginning to lose control of his thoughts. He had used his "ability" too many times today. His mind felt muddled and exhausted, yet he was too awake to sleep.

He couldn't help remembering the woman from the first time he had felt that terror.

She had cried on the balcony. Her husband had died first; he had heard that maggots were burrowing into the corpse. Then it had been her child, a little girl who had only just started second grade. An older neighbor had said she was a good, well-behaved child who would hold the corridor door for her.

Last had been the woman herself. She had watched her loved ones' bodies slowly begin to stink, watched the monster inch closer. She had waited for so long, waited alive, and finally died.

If he hadn't been too frightened to mention it back then, if he had called the police, could that woman have been saved?

He remembered the second time. Shi Yu had seen a young man hurrying through an alley, occasionally glancing behind him. The young man had seen him. He had seemed about to say something then, but in the end he hadn't. He had said nothing at all, only hurried on with his mouth shut.

On the third day, Shi Yu had heard that the young man was dead, crushed to pieces by something unknown. If not for his fashionable clothes, even his mother wouldn't have known it was her son.

If he had done something then, would that young man still have died?

Han He couldn't sleep.

Han He lay straight in bed, pinching his fingers as he counted, one number at a time.

It was a habit he had had since childhood.

Han He's home was in the mountains. His grandfather often went out, leaving Han He alone.

Alone at home, Han He never knew what to do, so he would count the leaves on the trees outside.

When his eyes grew tired from counting, he would go cuddle and play with the family dog for a while.

Sometimes his grandfather would be gone for two days, sometimes three, sometimes longer. Little Han He would count from one to a thousand over and over again, until his grandfather returned.

When he grew a little older, Han He went into the mountains with his grandfather to look for medicinal herbs and fruit.

Older still, he learned to catch things that ran, swam, and flew.

Back then, Han He's grandfather had taught him to be still and wait until an opportunity came.

If he could do it, go for it. If not, run.

Han He remembered it clearly: hiding in the grass and shade of the trees, watching those animals.

He would count, one number at a time, until the opportunity came.

His grandfather had praised him as a born hunter.

Han He said nothing, only kept counting.

Just like now.

Crack-snap!!

It was time.

Han He sat up in an instant and leaped from the top bunk. The Talisman's direction was clear and unmistakable. His fingers brushed his inner pocket, the bulging contents pressing hard against his hand.

He had known tonight would not be peaceful, and he had kept his ears pricked for sounds from the corridor. But the result was obvious: he had gained nothing.

Fortunately, he had already given the Talisman to Hu Zihao. The extra precautions proved their worth now.

Han He was like an agile cheetah, astonishingly light on his feet. Opening the door, turning, and sprinting all flowed together, and in a single breath he was already outside the washroom.

But the Evil Sin seemed to notice his presence. Han He's vision blurred, and an icy smell of lime rushed into his nose. He instantly stopped his body. His control over it was exceptional, and inertia seemed particularly forgiving of him at that moment.

There appeared to be nothing in front of him. The slowly closing bathroom door was right before his eyes, waiting for Han He to brace it open.

But Han He did not let down his guard. He stepped back a little, drew a twig from inside his clothes, and twisted it until it snapped.

Snap.

As the twig broke, an unfurling force spread from the split in the plant. Under its influence, a white wall abruptly appeared in the empty space before him.

The Evil Sin had tampered with his memory, and it also had the ability to disrupt people's perception.

Clang.

The washroom closed behind Han He.

Clang.

Shi Yu startled and sat up.

He felt as though he had just been trapped in a mire of thought, countless ideas spinning through his mind. Only when that door slammed had he broken free.

What happened? Who went out?

A strange stirring rose in Shi Yu's heart.

Shi Yu felt he had the answer.

Something must have happened to Hu Zihao.

Should he go or not?

Shi Yu turned the question over in his mind, even temporarily driving out his other thoughts.

Han He must have gone. I don't have any skills at all. What good would going do?

Shi Yu looked around the room. Everyone else was sound asleep, without even a snore.

Dead silence.

As soon as Shi Yu let his mind go blank, he remembered those dead people again.

He remembered the distance Hu Zihao had deliberately kept while talking to him.

Han He kicked the door, brutally fast and hard, far beyond the strength and speed a normal person could muster. His kick sliced through the air and slammed into the door with a boom!

But the battered door showed no sign of budging.

The kick was loud, but it woke no one.

That Evil Sin was growing stronger and stronger.

Gritting his teeth, Han He pulled everything out of his pocket at once. He arranged the twigs, Beast Fang, and Bird Feather in a specific order, forming a square around a triangle. He opened the bottle of reddish-brown liquid, sprinkled it over the pattern, and murmured under his breath. With his Incantation, a peculiar smell rose from it, calling to mind a freshly felled tree.

Then Han He grabbed the door handle and pulled. The door no longer remained completely motionless as it had before, but began to open a little. It was nowhere near enough.

Han He gritted his teeth and strained, veins bulging. The words all but fell through his clenched teeth, striking the air one by one with a metallic ring. A crack gradually opened in the doorway.

Suddenly, the door to Shi Yu's room opened. Dressed in pajamas, Shi Yu froze for a moment at the sight of Han He pulling on the door, then hurried over to help him.

But Shi Yu's help made no difference. The door still refused to open, like an oyster clamped tightly shut.

Shi Yu simply let go, leaving Han He more room to exert himself.

Shi Yu stood there, clumps of mush swelling ceaselessly in his brain. Suddenly, he remembered his ability.

"I'm very lucky."

He had said that before.

"What I want seems to happen as long as it isn't too outlandish."

That was what he had learned through his investigations.

Right now, he wanted the door to open. That was what he thought.

I want this door in front of me to open.

But the door still did not move.

Shi Yu looked at the washroom door and spoke.

"I want this door in front of me, which is about to open, to open."

The sound of flesh rubbing against metal set his teeth on edge. Blood dripped from Han He's palm and splashed on the floor, but the door still did not open.

Shi Yu reached toward the latch. He felt as though this was the only thought left in his head.

"The latch on this door is about to be torn apart. The door will open."

Crack!!!

Bang!!!!!

The latch abruptly burst apart! Tiny components scattered everywhere like a sky full of little stars. Shi Yu saw Hu Zihao tumble out through the doorway.

A dizzying sensation swept over him. Amid that dizziness, Shi Yu suddenly saw a vision: a vault of limitless height, an indescribable depth of silence, sound and color, curtains, and countless doors. One of those doors was slowly opening toward him. Some sort of pattern seemed to be depicted on it. Steps extended down from the doorway, one after another, exactly ten in all. The last step came to rest before Shi Yu.

Shi Yu raised his hand and placed it on the step. In that instant, countless chaotic thoughts erupted in his mind, then returned to it in orderly ranks like a flock of birds that had found a place to land. Shi Yu felt his thoughts begin moving again, orderly layer by layer, like neatly arranged bookshelves. Multicolored points of light flickered before his eyes, scattered, and returned to stillness.

Then he swayed and collapsed unconscious to the floor with a thud.

Shi Yu woke to the creaking of someone stepping on a metal ladder.

He tried shifting his body and discovered that he was lying in his own dorm bed. The covers had been neatly tucked in, wrapping him up like a freshly baked bread roll.

Pulling his arms out of the "bread roll," Shi Yu rubbed his eyes. The clock on the wall read six oh five. His nose twitched slightly. He smelled that peculiar scent on the covers-the smell of Han He's ritual.

This really is my room. Then last night...

Shi Yu sat up, recalling last night's experiences and the things he had seen before fainting, feeling the wondrous changes within himself.

At that moment, Shi Yu felt that his mind was incomparably clear, as transparent as newly shaped glass. His thoughts were like the marbles spat out in Frog Zuma, sorted and cleared away one by one.

There seemed to be some additional knowledge in his mind-or rather, some additional instincts. Shi Yu lowered his head to look at the roommate who had just climbed out of bed.

Shi Yu concentrated, watching his roommate and thinking silently:

Wang Liang just got up. He's very thirsty now, so he'll take out his water bottle. But he needs to go wash up, so he'll decide to drink that bottle of water when he gets back.

Wang Liang was putting on his shoes. His washbasin and toiletries were ready beside him; he was going to the washroom to wash up. A water bottle stood at the very back of his desk.

Wang Liang finished tying his shoelaces and stood up. Casually reaching toward the back of the desk, he awkwardly worked his way around the basin at the front, took out the water bottle, and set it at the front of the desk. Then he picked up the basin and left the room.

Shi Yu nodded. Then he narrowed his eyes and focused his attention on the water bottle at the front of the desk.

The water bottle suddenly moved. It slid smoothly toward the back of the desk, as though an invisible hand were pushing it.

*Note:

The stairway of "Thought": first step: "Coincidence"

"The coincidence I hoped for happened, as if by coincidence."

"One coincidence after another, one linked key after another-it opens the door called impossible, and so do I."