Light in the Darkness Chapter Thirty-Four: Daytime Terror

First came the outcome, and only then did the cause unravel in reverse. To attempt to change the final result was impossible—a classic temporal paradox.

“Indeed, if the matter were so simple, someone would have escaped long ago...”

Jiang Li realized his own thoughts had been rather naïve. Yet why did events occur with the outcome preceding the cause? This puzzled him deeply.

“You know this girl, which means that in the end, she became the evil spirit in the mirror. Does that imply, because she became the evil spirit, we might have hope to escape?” Fei Ling proposed her theory. According to Jiang Li, the girl ultimately became the evil spirit, suggesting that for some reason she entered the mirror world, and she and Jiang Li happened to be trapped there as well.

To leave the mirror world, the known requirements were blood as a guide and the shattering of the mirror.

Therefore, no matter the reason, the girl would eventually enter the mirror world, and Jiang Li and Fei Ling could return to the real world.

Song Qiwen, trembling with anxiety, entered the living room. Her earlier haze left her uncertain whether the voices she heard were mere dreams or reality, so she nervously checked the room.

But the living room was empty, and nothing stirred.

It was already four in the morning. With work looming, she hesitated, then returned to her bedroom and messaged her supervisor, claiming illness and requesting a day off.

She had decided: tomorrow she would visit a temple for a protective charm, and then return to the university to see if others had been chosen for the same task.

On one hand, she wondered if the talismans and peachwood swords from films might work, secretly hoping for a master like those Hong Kong stars, someone who could restore her to normal life.

On the other, she wanted to confirm the task’s authenticity, to see if, as described in the Spirit-Seer’s Record, those not involved truly couldn’t perceive its content.

Song Qiwen quietly opened the man’s bedroom door, finding him still asleep. She closed the door, glanced at him, and felt a little calmer.

Sleep was impossible now, so she gave up and began searching for any items that might ward off evil, or any reputable Daoist masters.

She entered her query, and countless odd results appeared: “Ghost-Eye Daoist accepting orders online,” strange talismans, hard to tell real from fake.

Desperate, she didn’t care. She first left her story and phone number with the so-called Ghost-Eye Daoist, a famous Hong Kong exorcist.

It was still early morning, so no immediate reply came. Song Qiwen also purchased some talismans and charms from obscure websites.

This series of purchases cost her three or four coins, but Song Qiwen remained uneasy, awaiting dawn, hoping the Ghost-Eye Daoist would contact her soon.

Jiang Li and Fei Ling paced the mirrored room, at first not noticing the mark of the Spirit-Seer’s Record on Song Qiwen’s left wrist.

Fei Ling spotted it and alerted Jiang Li. Since the mark was present, the book must be in that room, and through its tasks, they could deduce their chance to escape the mirror world.

They read the task described in the book, and like Song Qiwen, struggled to understand why others couldn’t see the task unless they were involved.

The Spirit-Seer’s Record released tasks, displaying their time and place in the book. Jiang Li’s previous task had also been visible to others.

At eight in the morning, Song Qiwen awoke, tidied herself, and found the man next door was up and had gone downstairs for breakfast before driving off. He’d originally planned to drive her, but remembered an urgent errand and left alone.

Just then, the Daoist messaged her, sending only an address after reading her account.

Song Qiwen took a cab to the Ghost-Eye Daoist’s home. Exhausted by last night’s fright, she felt an overwhelming drowsiness as soon as she sat down, soon slipping into a dream.

In her dream, she entered a mysterious world. She could see others, but no one could see her.

She was trapped in a sealed cage-like space. Outside, a man moved with military bearing—strangely familiar, but she couldn’t recall where she’d met him.

The scene shifted, returning her to the cab. Though she knew she was dreaming, everything felt disturbingly real, her unease growing.

In her dream, she sat in the backseat and, glancing up, saw the burnt face of a woman trailing the cab.

Frightened, she turned to look, but saw nothing.

She checked the driver’s rearview mirror. The long-haired, burnt-faced woman floated behind the cab, visible only in the mirror.

A ghostly presence visible only in mirrors, a mysterious man who felt familiar—everything seemed like déjà vu, and these eerie experiences only began last night, after Tang Li announced his departure.

Before she could consider whether this was connected to Tang Li, a speeding truck rushed towards her. In the truck’s window, the ghost woman’s face appeared, grinning wickedly.

With a thunderous crash—

Song Qiwen awoke from her nightmare, instinctively glancing at the cab’s rearview mirror, and saw the ghostly woman there.

Everything matched her dream. Her anxiety intensified. Recalling the final scene, she hurriedly asked the driver to pull over.

“It’s daytime, and there are so many people around. Surely nothing will happen now,” she muttered, trembling as she stepped onto the curb.

She stood there for a long time, lost in thought, then noticed the cab she’d left behind was still parked nearby.

The driver had vanished, and a speeding truck collided violently with the cab. In the truck’s window, the ghost woman’s face sneered at her.

Afraid to linger, Song Qiwen saw she was already close to the Ghost-Eye Daoist’s address and decided not to take another cab, walking instead.

Ten minutes later, she arrived. After ringing the bell, a tall woman led her into the villa and into a study to wait.

Soon, a shifty-eyed, rat-faced middle-aged man entered, his gaze brazenly lingering on Song Qiwen.

“You must be Miss Song?” His shrill, duck-like voice pierced her ears like thunder.

With his sly appearance, lecherous eyes, and grating voice, the supposed Ghost-Eye Daoist’s image crumbled in her mind.

“Yes, that’s me. Are you... the Ghost-Eye Daoist?” Song Qiwen asked, uncertain.

“I am the Ghost-Eye Daoist. Why, do I not look like one to you?” he straightened proudly, a smirk on his face.

——I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. The more I write, the less clear it becomes. Watching horror films every day, but none fit this story...

It’s so difficult... I need to finish this little story soon. In the next chapters, I’ll try writing a pure case, without any ghosts at all...