Chapter Seven: The Mysterious Bus

Terrified, I scrambled out of the funeral clothing store, practically tumbling over myself. Even through the store's doors, I could still clearly see the old woman swinging back and forth, hanging from that rope. Her expression now looked almost identical to those of the Wang family when they died—twisted and gruesome. Yet there was something strange: her eyes remained tightly shut. Normally, someone who hanged themselves would have their eyes bulging open, not closed like this.

A cold wind swept past, and suddenly I saw the old woman smiling at me with her eyes still closed. I couldn't tell if I was hallucinating, but whether it was real or not, I didn't dare stay a second longer. I rushed to my car, started it, and sped away from that haunted funeral shop.

The whole way, my mind buzzed with confusion. None of this made any sense. Zuodao Yin had told me to bring the yellow cloth bundle to town and find the owner of the Chen family funeral shop, and to bring him back to Baijie with me. But after she looked inside that bundle, she suddenly hanged herself. Why? What exactly was wrapped in that bundle? Why would it drive the old woman to suicide after seeing it—and why did she change into a brand-new burial shroud before she died?

Maybe I was too nervous, or maybe my mind was too preoccupied with all these questions, but suddenly, with a loud crash, my car slammed straight into a roadside tree. Though I wasn't hurt, the car stalled and wouldn't start again no matter how hard I tried.

At that moment, I nearly fell apart. I checked the time—it was almost half past four. There was barely more than an hour until dawn. Cursing my luck, I didn't waste any more time on the useless car. I jumped out and began running toward Baijie. I wasn't sure if I'd make it back before sunrise, but at least I'd be farther from that terrifying funeral shop.

Every few minutes, I checked the time, pushing myself to keep running. To my surprise, after just twenty minutes, I saw lights ahead and the faint outline of Baijie. I couldn't believe how fast I'd run, but I didn't stop to think about it. I ran toward the lights, but before I could catch my breath, the sight before me froze me in place.

The lights weren't from Baijie at all—they belonged to the old Chen family funeral shop in town. The old woman's corpse still hung there, swinging gently, her face wearing that eerie, closed-eyed smile, as if mocking me for losing my way.

"This can't be happening!"

I clawed at my hair in disbelief. I was sure I'd been running toward Baijie—how could I have ended up back at the funeral shop? Was I trapped in some kind of ghostly labyrinth?

Then my phone alarm went off—five o'clock! In a panic, I turned and ran toward Baijie again. But it was hopeless. No matter how many times I ran, I always ended up right back in front of the Chen family shop, with the old woman's closed-eyed face smiling at me in derision.

By now, my alarm was ringing every five minutes, signaling the approach of dawn. Even if I broke free of this ghostly trap, there was no way I'd make it back to Baijie before sunrise. I slumped by the roadside outside the funeral shop, tugging at my hair in despair. I didn't know what would happen if I failed to return before dawn, but I was certain I was doomed.

Just as hopelessness threatened to consume me, a bus pulled up in front of me. At the same moment, a rough male voice called out from inside, "Get on."

I looked up and saw a middle-aged bus driver, stubble on his chin, dark circles under wild, messy hair, staring at me with a stern expression. Before I could react, the bus doors swung open. I didn't question why a bus would be passing by at this hour—I just got on.

The bus was empty, likely because it was so early. The driver said nothing, just stepped on the gas and drove away from the funeral shop. Only then did something seem off—this wasn't a local town bus, but a long-distance double-decker coach. Stranger still, the entrance to the upper deck was blocked by an iron gate locked with a heavy padlock. As we drove, strange noises echoed from above, reminiscent of the sounds I'd heard in Zuodao Yin's attic.

I was about to ask about this when the driver cut me off, telling me not to speak or look back.

Left with no choice, I kept quiet and sat tensely in the front passenger seat. The driver took us out of town, then toward Baijie, finally stopping at the entrance to the street. I was filled with questions—how did this driver know my destination?

He still said nothing, just opened the door and gestured for me to get off. I thanked him, stepped off the bus, and turned to ask more, but the vehicle was already gone.

Scratching my head, I wondered if Zuodao Yin had foreseen my predicament and asked a friend who drove buses to help me. As I stood there in a daze, a rooster crowed nearby, startling me. Dawn was breaking. I hurried to Zuodao Yin's house, barely making it before sunrise.

Zuodao Yin was waiting for me in his main room, as if he hadn't slept all night. When I entered, he immediately stood up and asked how I was. I quickly recounted everything that had happened at the Chen family funeral shop, and thanked him for sending his friend to pick me up—if not for that, I would never have made it back.

But Zuodao Yin looked puzzled. He said he hadn't sent anyone to fetch me.

A chill ran down my spine. If it wasn't Zuodao Yin who sent that man, then who was it? How did he know I needed to go to Baijie, and why did he help me?

Zuodao Yin didn't press me for details about the bus driver. He seemed uninterested, only sighing and saying I had escaped disaster for now, but not to let my guard down—the curse had not yet been lifted.

Just hearing the word "curse" made my skin crawl. I asked him again what exactly this curse was.

But Zuodao Yin didn't answer. He turned away, deep in thought.

I pressed him about the yellow cloth bundle—what was inside, and why did it drive the old woman at the funeral shop to hang herself after seeing it, even changing into a new burial shroud before she died?

Zuodao Yin's expression grew strange, sending a chill down my spine. His voice turned stern as he said, "Don't ask what shouldn't be asked. Tonight’s ordeal is over—go home."

I protested that I had nowhere to go—the female ghost was still waiting for me at my house.

Zuodao Yin replied that it was daylight now, so she couldn't harm me. With that, he fell silent and went upstairs alone.

When I stepped outside, the sky was already pale with dawn. After so many bizarre events, I didn't dare return to the coffin shop. Instead, I went straight to an internet café, planning to rent a private room to rest.

But as I lay on the sofa in my booth, I couldn't sleep. Eventually, I played a few games, and while playing, drifted off at the computer desk.

Half-asleep, I suddenly heard a strange, distorted noise in my earphones—like an old VCD player when the tape jams. I shot upright, and what I saw next nearly scared the soul out of me.

The game screen flickered and glitched, the distorted pixels reassembling into a human face—the face of the old woman from the Chen family funeral shop, still smiling at me with closed eyes.

At first, I didn't react. Only when her eyes suddenly snapped open and she screamed at me, "Why? Why did you make me die in your place!" did I realize what was happening.