Chapter 4: Could This Be a Dream?

Qiu Yiyao had little appetite and barely picked at her food before retreating to her bedroom. She lay on the bed as the old electric fan creaked and groaned, stirring irritation within her.

Her mind drifted back to the incident with Grandma Wang, deepening her confusion.

Grandma Wang, as Qiu Shengming had mentioned, was an elderly neighbor of their family.

When Qiu Yiyao was little, sometimes when her mother was too busy to care for her, she would entrust her to Grandma Wang.

Given this, it was impossible for Grandma Wang to have been involved in anything strange. But if Grandma Wang was innocent, could it be that Qiu Yiyao had simply misseen things?

She was at a loss. She wasn’t nearsighted, and her mind was clear—could she really have been mistaken?

Sitting up, she rested her head on her knees, recalling some bizarre dreams she’d had before. Could it be that her nerves were so frazzled she was blending dreams with reality?

“That must be it. Luckily it didn’t escalate, or I’d really be labeled crazy.”

Qiu Yiyao pounded her head lightly, scolding herself for being so foolish.

Outside, the streetlights flickered on, their glow shining against the tightly closed windowpane as insects intermittently collided with the glass.

She rose and walked to the window, pushing it open. The plum tree outside was lush and full of branches that stretched to the windowsill. The purple-black plums were still unripe, hard as stones.

Night had fully fallen. Occasionally, people passed through the narrow alley, chasing and playing, stirring memories of city life.

Back when she was home on breaks, every evening after dinner, the family of three would go for walks. The mother and daughter would link arms in front, with Qiu Shengming trailing a few meters behind, secretly snapping photos of them with his phone.

Such scenes would never happen again.

Qiu Yiyao looked up at the sky, fighting back tears.

Minutes later, she closed the window and went downstairs. Qiu Shengming was nowhere to be seen—likely out for a walk.

She opened the front door, feeling the wind carry a few raindrops.

“It’s raining again.”

With a hint of resignation, she pulled her foot back inside.

She sat on the sofa and turned on the television.

The weather forecast warned not only of rain but also strong winds.

“This really never ends.”

Qiu Shengming burst in from outside, his shirt half soaked, droplets clinging to his hair.

Seeing Qiu Yiyao sitting in the living room, his face brightened with a smile. “Still not used to it? Don’t worry; you’ll get accustomed after a couple of days. When I first came back, I wasn’t used to it either. Now I realize this is the life I want.”

He flicked water from his hair and glanced at Qiu Yiyao. “Tomorrow, I’ll take you to town for a proper stroll. It’s small here, but there’s plenty of fun stuff.”

Qiu Yiyao didn’t look at him, only murmured, “I want to go to the mountains.”

Qiu Shengming froze. There was nothing fun in the mountains—only the resting place of their dearest.

“All right, I’ll take you.”

He seemed reluctant to face such a serious and sorrowful topic. He started upstairs, reminding her, “Go to bed early, and don’t lock the door when you come up.”

Qiu Yiyao acknowledged him but kept her gaze fixed on the door.

Wind and rain seeped through the half-open door, chilling the room.

She sneezed, rubbed her nose, got up, and closed the door, obediently leaving it unlocked.

Just as she turned to go upstairs, a knock came from outside.

Despite the storm, the sound was unnervingly clear.

She assumed it was Bai Peiyu and didn’t want to respond, but remembering Qiu Shengming’s instructions, she called out loudly, “The door’s unlocked. Come in yourself.”

Yet the knocking continued, as if unheard.

Frowning, she blamed Bai Peiyu’s stupidity for not knowing how to open a door.

She hurried downstairs and flung the door open, only to be drenched instantly by the fierce wind and rain.

But no one was there.

“Cough, cough…”

She quickly shut the door, wiping rain from her face, furious. “What kind of idiot knocks for no reason? If I catch you, I’ll beat you up.”

She grabbed a towel to dry off, about to change, when the knocking resumed.

Her anger flared. “Who is it? If this is another prank, I’m calling the police.”

She muttered as she approached the door. Just as her hand touched the door, an icy chill swept through her body.

Frozen in place, an invisible coldness seeped through the door crack, swirling around her. Her scalp tingled, and cold sweat broke out.

In such a storm, who would have time to play pranks on her?

Her ears replayed Grandma Wang’s warning: “Don’t wander at night, or you’ll be eaten.”

No matter how brave Qiu Yiyao was, she dared not open the door.

Outside, as if sensing her fear, the knocking abruptly stopped.

The sound of wind and rain drifted through the narrow gap, filling her ears, mingled with a faint whisper: “Open the door… open the door…”

She shivered involuntarily, struggling to lift her weak legs as she stepped back.

“Open the door…”

The voice grew sharper, more piercing.

“No, no…”

Qiu Yiyao clapped her hands over her ears and ran upstairs like a madwoman. But her foot caught on something, and she tumbled down the stairs, pain exploding through her body before she lost consciousness.

…

Her phone vibrated under her pillow. Half-awake, she fumbled for it, and seeing the screen nearing nine o’clock, she instantly snapped awake.

Looking at the familiar pink curtains and the room around her, Qiu Yiyao breathed a sigh of relief. But recalling the night’s events, she hurried to get dressed.

Qiu Shengming sat on the sofa reading the newspaper. When he saw her come downstairs, he put it down and stood, apologetic. “Hungry? You were sleeping so soundly I didn’t wake you. I’ll warm some buns for you now.”

Qiu Yiyao barely noticed her growling stomach. Nervously glancing at the door, she pulled Qiu Shengming aside and whispered, “Dad, is it true that there’s… something in this house?”

“What do you mean?” Qiu Shengming looked puzzled. “What’s wrong with the house?”

She looked into his eyes, making sure he wasn’t hiding anything. Lowering her voice, she asked, “Is it haunted?”

“Haunted?” He laughed, shaking his head. “Silly girl, you’re a university student. Why believe in superstition? Are you just hungry and confused?”

“Dad,” frustrated that he didn’t believe her, she stomped her foot. “I really heard strange noises last night, right at the door. And I even fell going upstairs.”

Mentioning the fall seemed to excite her, as if she had proof. “Yes, I fell. Didn’t you carry me back to my room?”

“No.”

Qiu Shengming frowned slightly, looking at her as if she were crazy. “You were upstairs the whole night. When Xiao Bai came back at around nine, I went downstairs to check and stopped by your room—you were snoring.”

His words made Qiu Yiyao’s eyes widen in shock. She reached out to touch the places she had supposedly hurt but felt no pain at all.

Noticing her fidgeting, Qiu Shengming anxiously reached for her forehead. “Yiyao, were you dreaming? Do you feel unwell anywhere?”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t believe it herself. Everything had felt so real last night—how could it be false?

Yet her body showed no signs, and she had woken up in bed this morning.

Qiu Yiyao hurried to the door. Outside, the sunlight was perfect, and the flowers in the pots under the eaves drooped from the warmth.

“Dad, did it rain last night?”

“No, the forecast said it might, but it never did…”

Qiu Shengming continued speaking, but Qiu Yiyao barely heard. She murmured to herself, “Could it have been a dream…”