Translator: CinderTL
Sensing danger, Jiang Cheng grabbed Fatty and yanked him to his feet. Fatty's face was ashen, clearly terrified.
"What did you see?" Huai Yi strained to look in the direction Fatty had been staring, but the thick fog obscured his view.
"People," Fatty whispered hoarsely, his voice trembling despite his attempt to keep it low. "There are people on the bus!"
"What kind of people?" Jiang Cheng asked. "Where are they?"
"A man in leather shoes reading a newspaper, and a woman in a red dress with a red veil," Fatty recalled. "They're not far ahead of us."
Jiang Cheng patted Fatty's shoulder. "Calm down. What exactly are they doing? Sitting or standing? Any unusual movements?"
Jiang Cheng's words seemed to steady Fatty. He swallowed hard and stammered, "The man with the newspaper is sitting on the left, by the aisle, about five rows ahead of us."
"The Red-Clad Woman is also sitting. She's on the right, by the window, about four rows ahead."
"The mist is thinner down here, so we can see farther," Huai Yi said tentatively. He bent down to look in the direction Fatty had indicated and indeed spotted the two figures.
When Huai Yi straightened up, his face was pale, but he still muttered a complaint: "Brother Fugui, what's wrong with your eyes? You're right, there are two people, but you misjudged the distance. The man is four rows ahead of us, and the woman is three."
"No way!" Fatty frowned, his voice uncertain. "Could I have miscounted?"
He started to bend down to verify, but Jiang Cheng grabbed his arm, stopping him.
At the same moment, a strange expression flickered across Jiang Cheng's face. He stared in the direction Fatty had pointed, a terrifying suspicion forming in his mind.
"Doctor?" Fatty whispered.
"Stay put," Jiang Cheng commanded, his tone sharp. "From now on, neither of you move a muscle. Not even a twitch. And don't make a sound."
Fatty and Huai Yi had rarely seen Jiang Cheng like this. They immediately straightened up in their seats, daring only to observe him with their eyes.
Taking a deep breath, Jiang Cheng mimicked Fatty's earlier movements, slowly bending forward to peer in the direction of the figures.
Sure enough!
The two had moved even closer.
The man was now three rows behind them, while the woman was even more terrifying, only two rows away. Jiang Cheng could even make out the ghastly pale skin of her chin.
So, this was the rule: each time they were spotted, the pair would advance one row closer. And when they reached the adjacent row, something terrible would happen.
Jiang Cheng neither knew nor wanted to find out what that might be.
Instead of immediately straightening up, he decided to seize this opportunity to observe their features as thoroughly as possible.
Since both had their backs turned, their faces remained hidden.
The man wore an old-fashioned suit and brown leather shoes, both distinctly outdated, like styles from twenty years ago. He held up a newspaper as if engrossed in the news. Through the gap in the seatback, Jiang Cheng noticed a photograph on the page, which the man seemed to be staring intently at.
Instinct told Jiang Cheng that this picture was important, but the distance made it impossible to discern the details.
Jiang Cheng shifted his gaze and began to scrutinize the red-clad woman.
Her crimson robe, veiled face, and embroidered shoes blazed with startling intensity. She was dressed as a bride, but her attire seemed to belong to a bygone era, even more ancient than the man's.
The woman's legs were pressed together, and from behind, her hands rested lightly in her lap.
An absurd impulse seized Jiang Cheng: he actually wanted to walk over and lift her red veil.
But this reckless notion vanished in seconds, quenched by reason. If he dared to unveil a bride, he feared she might retaliate by smashing his skull.
"Too dangerous, too dangerous," he muttered.
Moments later, Jiang Cheng's gaze returned to the bride's legs. Though mostly hidden by her gown, the slits along the sides offered glimpses of slender, pale limbs—remarkably long.
After a moment of strained focus, Jiang Cheng reluctantly tore his eyes away to examine her shoes.
They were indeed embroidered red shoes, adorned with green silk thread depicting bird-like creatures. If he wasn't mistaken, they were mandarin ducks.
Suddenly, Jiang Cheng's eyes froze.
Jiang Cheng observed women far more meticulously than men, not for any particular reason, but simply because he found their problems more complex and intriguing than those of men reading newspapers.
His efforts paid off. He noticed a silver anklet, seemingly made of silver, adorning the woman's slender left ankle. A small bell was attached to it.
After averting his gaze, Jiang Cheng slowly sat up. As he resumed pondering the questions that had been occupying his mind, he suddenly caught Fatty Huai Yi staring at him, his face ashen.
"What's wrong?" Jiang Cheng asked.
Hearing the doctor's permission, Fatty blurted out as if he'd received a pardon, "Doctor, you scared me half to death! I heard something behind me, like something was coming closer, and it brought a gust of ice-cold wind with it. It felt like someone had opened a freezer door!"
"Behind you?" Jiang Cheng finally turned to look behind them. The mist had completely enveloped the rear of the bus, and he suddenly realized that A Zhe and the Red-Clad Woman were gone.
With Jiang Cheng's nod, Fatty was the first to whip around. "Holy shit! Where did they go?"
Without a doubt, Jiang Cheng was certain something had happened to them. The car reeked of abnormality, and it was clear there was more to it than just the newspaper-reading man and the ghost bride.
Yet even so, A Zhe and the others were five strong. What kind of entity could make all five of them vanish without a trace?
"Don't move rashly, especially don't bend down," Jiang Cheng warned. Then, alone, he crouched down again, this time peering behind him—toward the spot where the Red-Clad Woman and the others had disappeared.
But again, Jiang Cheng saw nothing. Just as he was about to straighten up, something stirred at the very edge of his vision, about five meters away, beneath a chair.
Holding his breath, Jiang Cheng strained to focus on the spot. As if guided by some unseen force, the thin mist parted slightly. The moment he made out what it was, Jiang Cheng's pupils constricted sharply.
Above, Fatty Huai Yi, growing increasingly anxious, noticed the doctor's body suddenly tremble.
It was half a face.
Literally half a face, the other half torn apart by some wild beast. The remaining eye stared directly at Jiang Cheng, the lips slightly parted as if pleading for help.
It was the Red-Clad Woman's face.
(End of the Chapter)
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