’I had a family too, I know how cruelly taking the life of a child affects them, but there was no way... I had no way... there was simply no way.’
’To resurrect the dead requires a great sacrifice... For Hina... I am willing to offer everything I have... If only it would bring Riko back... I have no regrets.’
The writing here was tidy, and reading it didn’t put much strain on Beichuan Si.
However, as Beichuan Si read the lines, sothing felt sowhat off.
Suppressing his impatience, Beichuan Si continued to read on.
’I am a folklorist, that ti I took my daughter Hina and Riko to scout an estate left behind by our ancestors. It rained heavily that day... the muddy mountain path was difficult to navigate... I was moving towards the encampnt with my daughter and wife, but that was the beginning of a nightmare...’
Driven by the rain, the loosely structured soil and rocks rumbled down from above.
This wasn’t a landslide, just a re collapse of the mountain path.
A massive rolling stone suddenly fell and struck Beiyeliang’s daughter, Beiyi Zhenming.
Just a single falling rock had crushed the child into a pulp.
The powerless, dangling pale arms of his daughter... and the blood that incessantly seeped out, washed away by the heavy rain, broke Riko completely.
At one mont, his daughter, who had been talking and laughing, turned into a puddle of mush in the next, leaving only a severed hand sowhat intact.
’In that folkloric field study, I discovered an ancient book of curses left by our ancestors. I devoted all my remaining energy to studying those curses, hoping to find a way to resurrect the dead... and finally, I succeeded... But that thod... Such a cruel thod, is it truly suitable for resurrecting the dead?’
’Using the intact bodies of the dead as a dium, assembling a whole person from the fragnted remains of children... I can feel it, this horrifying and ominous curse eroding my heart...’
By this point, Beiyeliang’s handwriting had grown sloppy.
But he seed to forcefully spirit himself to continue writing.
’I must do this... for Riko, for Hina... I hope God will protect my sanity from the evil spirits.’
These Japanese symbols with hook-like shapes and brush strokes carried a firm, ruthless determination.
"..." Beichuan Si.
Had he thus embarked on the irreversible path of resurrecting his daughter? This could also explain why Beiyeliang cruelly murdered children.
But still—
"Sothing isn’t right," Beichuan Si frowned.
Yes, even though the reasons were clearly written here, Beiyeliang’s repentance was also clear.
But it still wasn’t right.
Beichuan Si exhaled and continued turning the pages.
’I killed a child. His na was Nakai Jushi; I took out his intestines, so foul-slling... Ah, right... the blood must not be wasted.’
The handwriting paused after this line, but the unsettling mania had only just begun.
Beichuan Si read on.
’My daughter... there should still be enough blood... the blood in the bathtub... can it connect your severed hand to your soul in the Yellow Springs?’
This was a question, indicating Beiyeliang wasn’t certain himself, but the gradually sloppy and frenzied handwriting suggested more than just that...
The subsequent content in the diary was simple.
Mostly about what he did after the murders, repeatedly questioning.
Can the severed hand connect to the soul?
Can the severed hand connect to the soul?
...
This questioning had appeared seven or eight tis, changing only at the ninth appearance—
’Hehe... It seems a child has discovered sothing... but with him here... as long as he’s here, there’s nothing to worry about regardless of what happens.’
Again, lengthy, incomprehensible, and sloppy handwriting.
Beiyeliang’s handwriting grew more carefree, the elongated strokes barely readable, causing discomfort at first glance.
’I use the cutest skull as your skull.’
’I use the most beautiful arms as your arms.’
’I use the healthiest legs as your legs.’
’I use the best functioning organs as your organs.’
’Daughter daughter daughter daughter daughter daughter daughter daughter daughter daughter daughter daughter—’
Silence—
Countless blood-red "daughters" were scribbled all over the next page.
They pierced one’s gaze, making the skin crawl and the body tremble.
These words seed to glare at Beichuan Si like real eyes.
To Beichuan Si’s eyes, these words seed to shift, to distort and twitch—
Faced with such a bizarre and terrifying scene, Beichuan Si felt unshaken as he flipped the diary to the next page, covering the words of the previous page.
This page of the diary contained only one line.
A simple line.
’Why won’t you co back to life?’
It seed the ritual had failed, as Beiyi Zhenming hadn’t awoken as Beiyeliang had hoped.
Beichuan Si looked at the next page.
On this page, Beiyeliang revealed why the ritual had failed.
’The ritual was missing one critical elent.’
A whisper seed to rise in the background.
Beichuan Si narrowed his eyes and continued reading.
’It’s the living... a robust, living soul to serve as the ferry ticket to the Yellow Springs... and Hina’s soul shall break free from the depths of the Yellow Springs.’
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