The Last Night
The sky was dimming. The small village at the foot of the mountain was bathed in the fiery red glow of the setting sun, casting a warm orange hue over the old rooftops. The children continued to play on the muddy dirt road after the rain, ignoring the calls of their mothers urging them to come home.
At the edge of the village, a small, dilapidated hut sat with smoke rising slowly from a small window. Inside, an old woman was hunched over the fire, stirring a pot of thin porridge on the stove. The light of the fire cast shadows over her wrinkled face, yet her eyes remained warm, as if there was nothing in the world to worry about.
Not far away, a young man sat at the doorstep, his eyes fixed on the distant horizon.
Ling Xiao.
That was the name the old woman had given him.
He didn't know where he came from, nor could he remember anything from before. He only knew that when he woke up, he was in this house, under the gentle gaze of a stranger.
"Hey, kid, why are you sitting there like a statue?"
The old woman's voice broke the silence, pulling him out of his thoughts.
"Auntie," Ling Xiao turned his head, his voice a bit absent. "Do you believe in dreams?"
The old woman paused, looking at him with a mixture of surprise and amusement.
"Had another strange dream?"
Ling Xiao fell silent for a moment before replying softly, "Blood. A lot of blood."
The old woman thought for a while before laughing lightly, as if it were of little importance.
"Young people often have strange dreams. But dreaming of blood doesn't necessarily mean bad luck, it's just that your mind isn't fully awake yet."
She walked over and placed a bowl of hot porridge in his hands.
"Eat it. Don't let these silly things haunt you."
Ling Xiao looked down at the porridge, the steam rising and carrying a familiar scent. He picked up the spoon, but something in his heart still felt uneasy.
Those dreams weren't just ordinary dreams.
They were too vivid.
The smell of blood, the screams of pain, the fear so intense it felt like it was etched into his mind—as if he had truly lived through those moments.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember anything.
Every time he woke up, everything faded into nothingness.
He clenched his fist.
This feeling was unsettling.
The old woman watched him silently, then sighed.
"Don't think too much. You're just a child, no need to carry too much."
Ling Xiao smiled faintly.
"But I'm not a child anymore."
"To me, you're still a kid."
The old woman smiled softly, patting his head.
As night fell, the moonlight streamed through the cracks in the door, casting a faint, ethereal glow over everything.
Ling Xiao lay in bed, his eyes wide open as he stared at the ceiling.
Outside, the night wind howled through the trees, bringing a chill that crept into every corner of the old house.
An uneasy feeling rose in his chest.
He didn't know why, but tonight felt different.
His chest tightened, as though something deep inside him was trembling faintly.
He turned over, trying to shake off the strange feeling.
Maybe it was just the dream from earlier messing with his mind.
But Ling Xiao didn't know that tonight was truly not like any other night.
Tonight—would be the beginning of everything.
The night wind slipped through the cracks in the door, carrying a biting cold that made Lang Tiao shiver. He tossed and turned a few times but couldn't fall asleep.
From the other room, slow footsteps echoed, followed by the creaking of a door.
"Ling Xiao, you're still awake?"
The old woman stood at the doorframe, the moonlight glinting off her silver hair, making her silhouette appear fragile and thin.
Ling Xiao sat up, hesitated for a moment, then shook his head.
"I can't sleep."
The old woman sighed and slowly walked over, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Lie down, let me tell you a story."
Ling Xiao obediently lay back, his eyes still wide as he looked at her.
The old woman gently stroked his hair, her voice low and steady.
"This story is about the mountain behind the village."
Ling Xiao raised an eyebrow.
"That mountain?"
"Mm." She nodded. "Since I was little, your great-grandfather—your father's father—always forbade anyone in the family from going near a deep cave in the forest. He never explained why, only said that it was a forbidden place for our clan, and no matter who asked, he wouldn't say more."
The old woman paused, her eyes distant as if lost in thought.
"Many years passed, and after your father's generation is gone, only you and I are left to protect this place. As long as we remember your great-grandfather's words, that place will remain peaceful. Though I don't know why he was so adamant, I've never dared to break the rule."
She gently patted Ling Xiao's hand.
"So if one day you go into the forest, never step into that cave."
Ling Xiao didn't respond, just lay there silently, staring at the ceiling.
The story sounded strange.
A forbidden place for the clan?
Why had they protected it for so many years?
A strange sensation welled up in Ling Xiao's heart.
The old woman gently tapped his forehead, her voice soothing.
"Alright, go to sleep. Thinking too much won't help."
Ling Xiao opened his mouth to say something but ended up closing his eyes in silence.
After a while, the sound of steady breathing filled the room.
The old woman sat quietly by the bed, watching Ling Xiao's young face in the moonlight.
The night wind blew gently, rustling the leaves outside the window.
The old woman silently clenched her wrinkled hands.
When Ling Xiao appeared…
At the same time, the smell of blood in the cave had completely disappeared.
An ominous omen.
The old woman closed her eyes, a vague unease rising in her heart.
A sharp noise suddenly shattered the quiet of the night.
Ling Xiao jerked awake.
The room was pitch dark, with only the faint moonlight streaming through the cracks in the door.
The stillness was unnervingly strange.
He sat up straight, his heart pounding wildly, unsure why.
"Auntie?"
There was no answer.
He quickly jumped out of bed and ran outside.
As soon as he stepped out the door, Ling Xiao froze.
Before his eyes—
Was a scene of devastation.
The humble hut was now nothing more than a pile of rubble. Dust and smoke still lingered in the air, the scent of ashes mixed with a faint trace of blood.
The night wind blew through, bringing a chilling cold that seeped into his bones.
Ling Xiao stood motionless in the ruined scene, his eyes wide in disbelief at what he was seeing.
Where was she?
He rushed into the wreckage, desperately digging through broken wood and stones that littered the ground.
There was no one.
No bodies.
Only charred marks and signs of a violent destruction.
Ling Xiao staggered back in shock.
What had happened?
The village…
Right, the village!
He turned and ran toward the center of the village.
But when he arrived, what he saw only plunged his heart deeper into despair.
The entire village—
Had been destroyed.
The houses had collapsed, smoke and dust filled the air, and small fires burned faintly here and there. Dead animals lay scattered on the stone roads, bloodstains stretching to the end of the village, but there was not a single person in sight.
The villagers… had disappeared.
Ling Xiao stood frozen in the middle of the ruined street, his breath heavy and labored.
In a single night…
Everything had been wiped away.