In recent years, the government has designated several areas for tourism development, and Haokou Village is among them. Therefore, I plan to visit as a tourist.

Before departure, I called my childhood friend Zhao Han to cancel our meeting scheduled for three days later.

Haokou Village is surrounded by dense forests, like an isolated utopia. But this utopia seems to be shrouded by something, oppressive and eerie.

The only main road into the village is very narrow, barely wide enough for one car to pass.

The inn where I’m staying is a homestay converted from a local's house, with nothing special about the decor. However, every room has a dark painting hanging on the wall.

The owner, Li Jin, said this is a tradition in their village for ensuring safety.

He jokingly warned me not to take down or damage the paintings, or I might encounter trouble.

After a brief rest, I took my camera and went out.

Following the map in my father's notebook, I headed towards the crime scene from years ago.

There were many farmlands along the way. When they saw me, the young men wearing straw hats smiled and waved at me.

On the road, I saw a yard surrounded by high walls, with a strange smell wafting out. I curiously looked around.

The villagers said it was a pig farm and that there was nothing to see. I wanted to take a photo, but I was stopped.

The closer I got to Lian Muping's residence, the more guarded the villagers' expressions became, like wolves ready to tear apart their prey at any moment, with their farming tools as sharp claws.

I shivered in fear.

The overgrown yard gradually came into view, and a woman called out to me:

"Mr. Fang, what are you doing here?"

I turned back in surprise.

The woman was about fifty years old and had trouble with her left leg. Her face was unfamiliar to me.

"Do you know me?"

The woman did not answer, instead scanning the surroundings warily, causing the group to withdraw.

"There's nothing worth photographing here." She glanced at the camera in my hand. "It's all restless evil spirits."

Pretending to be puzzled, I asked her why. The woman briefly mentioned the tragic event from twenty years ago.

"Back then, it was really…" she hadn't finished speaking when she pushed me into the river, laughing maniacally as she watched me struggle.

Help! I can't swim…

In the end, the villagers pulled me out.

A man said she was the granddaughter of the former village chief, named Li Wen. She witnessed her mother's self-immolation in her youth, which drove her insane. Sometimes she was lucid, sometimes mad, and he advised me to keep my distance.

I looked at her with lingering fear, still clutching the water plants I had grabbed while struggling in the water.

As our eyes met, Li Wen limped away, but my mind was filled with the moment she pushed me into the lake and whispered in my ear—"Shh, they're listening."