He wasn't sure why, but the image of a straw figure suddenly surfaced in his mind.

He steeled himself, inching forward into the depths of the corridor. The doors on either side were closed, each adorned with ordinary decorative paintings; nothing seemed amiss at first glance.

Rounding a bend, he found himself facing a room that was noticeably larger and more luxurious.

Unlike Luo He and the others, who had to push their doors open, Linghu Yong was luckier. The dark wooden double doors were already ajar.

Through the opening, he could see a large bed.

Beside the bed stood a figure, a red lantern placed on the floor.

The lantern's candle flickered, as if blown by a breeze.

The figure, back to him, was slightly hunched, holding something in hand, occasionally reaching towards the person in the bed.

This might seem incomprehensible to others, but it stirred a deep memory in Linghu Yong. He realized instantly that the person with the lantern was giving medicine to the one lying in bed.

"Who's there?"

Just as Linghu Yong was about to continue observing, he was discovered. His appearance clearly startled the other person.

As he had guessed, the person standing by the bed held a medicine bowl in their hand, along with a spoon for feeding.

But because of the dim light, he couldn't see the person's face.

"Don't be nervous, I was sent by Bureau Chief Qiao," Linghu Yong explained quickly, worried about a misunderstanding. "I'm here to help you."

"Bureau Chief Qiao..." The other person seemed to hesitate.

The voice was male, and about his age. He guessed it might be Master Feng's son.

Thinking this, Linghu Yong continued, "Bureau Chief Qiao is worried something might happen here again, so he sent us to help. I have some companions with me; you'll meet them soon."

Hearing this, the man seemed to relax a little, casually placing the medicine bowl on a nearby table. "So it's you. I heard about you from Liu the Cripple, the gatekeeper, but your late-night visit... is it for...?"

"We wanted to visit during the day, but Liu the Cripple said it wasn't convenient and that Master Feng was very ill, and we shouldn't disturb him," Linghu Yong said quickly.

For some reason, he felt uneasy here. After understanding the situation, he wanted to leave immediately.

"My father is indeed ill, but not as serious as he makes it out to be. He can get out of bed now," the man said, then glanced towards the bed, his tone turning sorrowful. "But my wife's condition is very bad."

Before he could finish speaking, Linghu Yong heard footsteps behind him. There were many people, perhaps five or six, or even more. "Yong'er, who are you talking to?"

An old man, leaning on a cane and supported by someone, emerged from the dim corridor.

The old man wore brocade clothes that looked expensive, but even the finest garments couldn't hide his haggard face. He looked like he hadn't rested in a long time, his complexion pale, his eye sockets sunken, and his movements had an inexplicable stiffness.

Linghu Yong suspected the footsteps downstairs were his.

The old man was the true master of the Feng family, Master Feng.

Seizing the opportunity, Linghu Yong immediately identified himself to the old man and the people behind him. Several pairs of eyes scrutinized Linghu Yong's face.

"So that's how it is," Master Feng said slowly, then walked over, supported by a middle-aged woman. "You've worked hard. Once the Feng family overcomes this calamity, we will repay you handsomely."

"You're too kind, Master Feng," Linghu Yong replied.

After saying this, Linghu Yong turned to look at the bed. From his angle, he could only see a bulge in the blanket, vaguely human-shaped, but since entering the room, he hadn't heard a single sound from the person in the bed.

Was she... asleep?

Or was there some other reason?

Various guesses arose in Linghu Yong's mind. This piqued his curiosity, and he began to piece together the image of the woman in the bed. The scene strangely felt familiar.

A sick woman in a dim environment, a man feeding her medicine...

"Yong'er, what are you thinking about?"

An old, stiff voice broke through, making Linghu Yong's expression falter for a moment. He subconsciously replied, "Nothing, Father. I... I was thinking it's about time for Ruoxi's medicine change, I should go inform the nurse..."

The next second, he stopped abruptly, then seemed to suddenly realize something, his eyes widening, his face filled with horror as he looked at Master Feng. The other's lips were constantly moving, but the sounds coming out didn't match his lip movements at all!

Master Feng was like a bizarre marionette, his aged eyes staring at him, empty and hollow.

Linghu Yong suddenly noticed that Master Feng's eyes didn't reflect his own image at all.

Then, a familiar voice rang out from behind him, "Nothing, Father. I... I was thinking it's about time for Ruoxi's medicine change, I should go inform the nurse. You can rest assured with me here."

As the voice spoke, Linghu Yong's heart plunged into an ice cellar, a chill running from his head to his toes.

That was actually... his own voice!

Belatedly, he suddenly realized something. Why could he clearly see the faces of Master Feng and everyone else, but not the face of the man in the room earlier?

At first, he thought it was because the room was dimly lit, but now it seemed more like the man's face was shrouded in an unyielding mist.

Just like the mist outside, the one that had trapped him!

A ghost!

He was the ghost!

Gathering every ounce of courage he had, Linghu Yong turned his stiff neck to look at the man behind him.

As his gaze shifted, the mist on the man's face receded like ice and snow meeting boiling water. Then, a face exactly like his own emerged.

Slowly, the layout of the room also changed. The originally luxurious and huge room became ordinary, and much smaller.

A beige IV drip stand stood by the bed. The bed had also turned into an ordinary iron bed, light blue, the kind most commonly seen in hospitals, covered with a loose white blanket.

A pair of women's slippers lay discarded by the bed.

"Linghu Yong" seemed not to notice anything and continued to do what he was doing. He slowly bent down, approaching the woman on the bed. Now, he could clearly see the woman's haggard face.

Beneath her face, her neck was wrapped in thick gauze, with faint yellow pus seeping out.

Sealed memories were awakened, and Linghu Yong trembled all over, seemingly returning to that rainy night years ago, the seemingly ordinary car accident scene.

Their car had crashed into a crooked tree by the roadside.

Fortunately, Linghu Yong, who was driving, only suffered minor injuries, but his wife was not so lucky. The point of impact was right at the passenger seat, and the immense force nearly broke her cervical vertebra.