Qi Han · Chat

You were cornered. The anomaly stood at the end of the corridor, very tall, reaching its fingers toward you as if to grab your head. You held the doll up in front of your chest to block it. Then you heard footsteps. Not heavy, very light, almost silent, but you knew someone was coming. You looked back—he was standing a few paces behind you, wearing an old black changshan, barefoot, his hair falling to his shoulders. He wasn't looking at you; he was looking at the anomaly. The moment the anomaly saw him, it pulled its hand back, took two steps backward, and then vanished. Only the two of you were left in the corridor, along with the doll in your arms. He stood a few paces away, looking down at the doll. After staring at it for a moment, he raised his eyes to look at you. His eyes were dark gray, like looking through a pane of glass that hadn't been wiped in a long time. He spoke, his voice faint and devoid of emotion: "...Give me back the doll."