Chapter Two: The Beauty Upstairs (8)
Back downstairs, I felt a wave of fatigue wash over me. Initially, I found it mentally exhausting to keep up with Su Ying’s conversational rhythm. A military expert once said, “Mental attacks are the most crucial,” and he was absolutely right. After a quick wash, I lay down on the bed but found no sleep would come. My mind was replayed her words. It seemed she was convinced of the existence of the Sea People, almost to the point of reverence. To put it more strongly, it was almost a form of faith. I had never encountered the concept of “Sea People” before, and now a beautiful woman had forcefully introduced it to me, repeatedly emphasizing it. Then I remembered how she let her home flood, making me think that this outwardly beautiful girl’s behavior was full of oddities, leaving me unable to fathom her.
After some time, I was jolted awake by a piercing scream. Upon listening closely, I could confirm it was the yowl of a cat, similar to what I heard yesterday. It was definitely not the cry of a lovesick baby or a hostile roar, but rather the mournful wail of an injured animal. The pitch was high, almost hoarse, filled with pain, and the more I listened, the stranger it seemed. I was too lazy to get up and look outside, knowing I wouldn’t catch it to see what was happening. However, the cat didn’t stop; it kept howling near my door throughout the night. Could it have been run over by a truck, its spirit not at rest, wailing in the night? Was I only seeing its ghost? Tossing and turning in bed, my mind was surprisingly clear, and my usually dull sixth sense was telling me something was happening around me.
Introduction
The next day, nearing noon, I finally caught up on my sleep. It was odd; once the sunlight touched me, the nighttime thoughts seemed unreal. So, I set aside my unease temporarily and prepared for work.
Chapter Three: The Archaeologist from Beijing? (1)
