Corpse Shadow in the Lake

In late October, Xixiang was still lush and green, boasting beautiful scenery of clear waters and verdant mountains everywhere.

As night fell, a nameless wind swept down from the mountains, carrying moisture along with the scent of wild plants and trees, bringing with it a subtle, strange shift in the atmosphere.

Before anyone noticed, a pale yellow miasma quietly rose from the surface of the lake, enveloping the entire village in its grip.

Gradually, the fog above Mulian Village grew thicker and denser.

On the unmonitored lake, which had been calm and still just moments ago, a spot suddenly began to boil under the influence of the miasma. It bubbled vigorously, churning up white spray after white spray.

As the miasma drifted upward, faint spectral shadows began to materialize on the supposedly deserted surface of the lake.

One.

Two.

Three...

At first, these phantom forms were somewhat blurred, but as the miasma spread, they suddenly solidified into human figures. In small groups of two and three, they began walking straight toward the shore.

Among these shadows were men and women, young and old. Their clothing spanned different eras, ranging from modern short-sleeved shirts to wide-sleeved robes...

“Gurgle, gurgle...”

The lake water violently churned as if a powerful heat source beneath the surface were continuously boiling it. The phantom figures moved faster and faster, gradually vanishing into the village, leaving behind nothing but a trail of wet footprints on the ground.

Extending all the way into the village, these footprints served as markers, guiding whatever was underwater.

...

Zhang Awu was a local villager of Mulian Village. He had land and a house, but he was lazy and gluttonous by nature. Refusing to seek work outside or tend to the fields, he spent his days inviting fair-weather friends over to eat, drink, play cards, and gamble.

Now in his mid-forties with no woman willing to marry him, he was perfectly content living a shiftless, hand-to-mouth existence, for which Grandpa Shi had scolded him countless times.

Today was no different. Having won two hundred and fifty yuan gambling, he bought some liquor and braised dishes, then invited three of his buddies over for a drink.

One of his buddies had even stolen a large yellow dog from a neighboring village. Together, they skinned it and boiled a pot of fragrant meat. Munching on braised snacks and taking a bite of dog meat with every swig of liquor, they were having the time of their lives.

Three rounds of drinks later, the four gathered around bragging and discussing where to make money next year. Getting bored with the conversation and feeling the alcohol kick in alongside an urgent bladder, Zhang Awu stumbled out into the courtyard to relieve himself.

Just as he unzipped his pants, a sudden chill ran down his spine.

It felt as if an evil wind had cut right through him.

Shaking his head, Zhang Awu focused on taking a leak when he suddenly heard a voice speaking from behind him:

“Little Wu, why can't you walk the straight path instead of pulling shady tricks all day? This won't do. Find an honest job. If nothing else works, pull a cart or farm the land—at least you won't starve to death...”

“Alright, Chatty Patty, why do you talk so much? Whatever money I earn is for me to spend anyway. Right now I'm out of the wind and rain—who'd be foolish enough to slave away working for someone else?”

Zhang Awu had been startled at first, but turning around to see his old mother, his alcohol-fueled temper flared, and he yelled back without care:

“I know plenty of big bosses who started their own businesses from scratch! I just lack startup capital, otherwise I'd have hit it big long ago! You sigh every single day, sighing away all your son's good luck!

Lame-Leg and the guys are still waiting to drink. Give me some money so I can buy more alcohol. Don't try to fool me—I know Little Sister sneaks you money all the time...”

The old mother remained silent, shrinking into the shadows to wipe away her tears.

Zhang Awu spat on the ground, kicked the yellow dog skin in the courtyard, and retreated into the house while muttering curses. Hearing him talking to someone outside, the other three curiously asked about it. Slurring his words heavily from the alcohol, he mumbled:

“My old mom. Nagging and blabbering every single day—annoying as hell. In a bit I'll go buy more liquor and we'll keep drinking. Anyone who doesn't drink until they can't walk straight is a son of a bitch!”

At those words, the other three turned as pale as paper. The slightly sober one among them stammered in horror:

“What nonsense are you spewing?! Your parents got so angry at you two years ago that your mom drank pesticide and died! She's buried up on Qingmeng Mountain! Who on earth did you see?! You must've seen a damn ghost!”

Zhang Awu's drunken brain buzzed, and he shrieked, jumping to his feet.

His old mom had indeed drank pesticide two years ago after he pushed her too far, and they hadn't been able to save her!

Then... who had just been talking to him?!

None of them dared to say a word. The house fell deathly silent, save for the dog meat pot that continued to bubble away.

Zhang Awu and the others exchanged terrified glances, frozen in place. They endured the agonizing wait until the pot ran dry and the quiet outside remained undisturbed. Only then did they breathe a tentative sigh of relief.

“Brother Wu, I'm heading back. Your house is creepy as hell.”

“Yeah, spooky beyond belief.”

“Aiya, I just drank too much and babbled nonsense, and you guys actually believed it? Go, go, go. Once the sun comes up tomorrow, everything will be fine.”

Ignoring Zhang Awu's attempts to keep them, the remaining three hastily bade farewell. Furious, Zhang Awu spat out a string of curses. Once they had all left, he pulled his clothes tightly around himself, planning to go to bed.

But as soon as he turned around, he saw his mother standing behind him, gnawing on a bloody dog head in her arms, her dull grey eyes glaring fixedly at him:

“Little Wu, Mom has money... Mom has so much money... Here, it's all for you...”

A handful of paper money was slammed directly onto Zhang Awu's face. The stench of incense ash mixed with foul river water rushed down his throat, and before he could even struggle, he blacked out completely.

“Crunch, crunch...”

In the pitch-black room, the sound of the old mother gnawing on the dog head echoed in the dark. Only after finishing did she clumsily wipe her mouth and drag Zhang Awu out the door.

Under the moonlight, the miasma above the village grew thicker and thicker, leaving only the old mother's eyes visible.

Yellow, murky, and glowing with an eerie light.

That was the sound of Zhang Awu being dragged along the ground.

Despite such loud noises, the village remained dead silent. It was not until a heavy splash echoed through the night that everything quieted down once again.

...

Drifting along Stone River had always been one of Mulian Village's popular tourist attractions. Riding a raft down the river would slowly carry visitors into the inner lake.

It allowed guests to appreciate the scenery along the banks while enjoying the thrill of river rafting, so even when tourist numbers dropped, plenty of people still did it.

Of course, the inner lake was larger and offered even more entertainment options. Formed naturally due to geological features, the lake was a paradise for many diving enthusiasts.

“Splash!”

A tourist in a wetsuit surfaced, flashed a sign to the diving instructor, and grabbed the side of the motorboat to climb aboard, taking off his diving gear:

“Gosh, Mulian Lake is truly gorgeous! Underneath, it's a whole different world. It's just a shame we can only dive down to fifty meters. I wish I could explore the very bottom of Mulian Lake in person.”

“Don't even think about it. The world record for scuba diving is three hundred and thirty-two meters, but that's not even half the depth of our Mulian Lake.

This lake drops off steeply in layers. Sure, it looks shallow near the shore—only a meter or two, where tall people can touch bottom—but swim just two steps further and you hit a depth of a hundred meters. If you can't swim, you'll sink straight down before anyone can even try to save you.”

The diving instructor climbed up as well, tilting his head to drain water from his ear. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a shadow sweeping past beneath the boat and quickly called out to the tourists to take photos:

“There's a fish! A big fish! From its size, it's gotta be at least a hundred pounds! It's been years since anyone's seen a fish this big in this lake!”

Sure enough, the tourists crowded around, eagerly pulling out their phones to take pictures. As the black shadow slowly drifted closer, everyone held their breath.

The next second, the smiles on everyone's faces turned into pure terror.

It was a bloated corpse of a young man soaked in water.

He had a buzz cut, a round face, and a dimple on his cheek.