"Follow this path, and you'll find your way out."
Hu Tao half-rested her hands on her hips, pointing in a direction. The stranded traveler thanked her again before quietly departing.
Yesterday had just been an accident. Hu Tao exhaled and glanced at the Vision at her waist. Though she didn't know why it had lost its glow, she was still capable of patrolling all of Wuwang Hill.
Drip, drip.
Before she knew it, layers of dark clouds had gathered overhead. The broad leaves could no longer bear the weight of the raindrops, which slid from the base to the tip before falling onto Hu Tao's face. A stifling atmosphere spread, making it hard to breathe.
"Is it going to rain...?"
Hu Tao murmured, lowering her gaze as she walked toward a large tree. She sat on its trunk, watching the spirits passing back and forth before her. Not a single one was familiar. In her daze, she heard a faint, melodious song.
"Grandpa, let's play hide-and-seek!"
The childish voice made Hu Tao's heart skip a beat. She quickly stood up, only to see the scenery around her shift.
The familiar courtyard, the still-growing plum tree, the disciplinary ruler in the hall... and a familiar figure.
"Grandpa..."
Her vision blurred. Hu Tao's outstretched hand froze midair before trembling as she withdrew it, as if afraid to shatter the scene from her memories.
"Hehe, alright then. Whatever my granddaughter says."
Warm lamplight illuminated the figure of a girl. Biting her finger, she quickly scanned her surroundings, searching for the best hiding spot.
Before long, the girl found her ideal location—a coffin inside the room.
"Little Hu Tao, Grandpa's coming to find you now~"
The girl held her breath, curling into a ball as she silently willed herself not to be discovered.
Hu Tao gritted her teeth, her heart suddenly aching. She tried to speak, but no sound came out.
The girl didn't know how much time had passed—only that the birds had returned to their nests, the sun had set, and the moon had risen.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly, far beyond the agreed-upon duration. Excited, the little girl pushed open the coffin lid, her heart brimming with joy.
"Hehe, Grandpa, you're so silly~"
She pushed open the door, ready to step over the threshold.
"Don't..."
Hu Tao choked up, clutching her aching chest, unwilling to watch what came next.
The sight before her made the girl's eyes shrink. Stumbling forward, she rushed to her grandfather, who had already lost all signs of life, and knelt on the ground, staring blankly.
In that moment, the concept of death became painfully clear. The little girl numbly held her grandfather's body, crying for what felt like an eternity as his gradually cooling temperature plunged her into an icy abyss, piercing her sensitive nerves.
Helplessness, confusion—all these emotions made the girl feel as though she were facing raging waves, utterly alone.
Hu Tao slowly approached her grandfather's body, tears streaming uncontrollably.
If... if she hadn't dragged him into playing hide-and-seek, would he have never left her?
That day, a cold drizzle had fallen, just like now. On the silent streets, only pitying and sympathetic glances were cast her way. It was the first time the girl had pushed open the doors of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, walking at the forefront of a funeral procession.
The first business of the 77th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor had been her own grandfather's funeral.
Yes, Hu Tao still remembered. That girl in white had knelt in the ancestral hall for days and nights. That year, she had only been twelve years old.
...
The light rain continued to fall. The distant song of whales lingered on the horizon. Hu Tao lifted her head, and on the surface of Bishui River, her grandfather's faint silhouette flickered before vanishing from her sight.
As if struck by a thought, Hu Tao broke into a desperate sprint. At the boundary between life and death, she indeed saw a familiar figure step through the gate.
For a long time, Hu Tao stood silent, watching the spirits come and go before finally turning away.
She wandered aimlessly. The fog receded from the river, and the song faded, but the rain only grew heavier.
The sound of raindrops against her paper umbrella was deafening. By the time Hu Tao snapped back to reality, she realized someone had been standing beside her all along.
"Director Hu, you'll catch a cold if you stay out in the rain like this."
Rover stood calmly behind her before turning his gaze toward the boundary between life and death.
"Once people find hope, they can't help but recall their regrets. It's only human."
Hu Tao froze, slowly shifting her gaze to Rover, who gave her a slight nod.
"Go push open that door. I'll handle the rest."
Hu Tao wiped her face, brushing away what could have been rain or tears, before forcing her usual cheerful smile.
"Mm, I understand. But... I'd like to take a bath first. If he sees me like this, he'll worry."
....
"Thank you, my friend."
Zhongli's voice was heavy with exhaustion. Rover set aside his folded paper umbrella.
"It was nothing. Besides, this is Director Hu's burden to bear. There wasn't much I could do to help. But... are you alright?"
Zhongli fell silent for a moment. The erosion had worsened—even outsiders could see it now.
"Ahem, I'm fine."
Zhongli's gaze drifted toward Wuwang Hill as he brewed another pot of tea. In the slow-rising steam, distant memories resurfaced once more.
He faintly recalled a time when Wuwang Hill was not yet abandoned—when children's laughter echoed through the village, and lantern lights still flickered at night.
Now, it was nothing but a desolate ruin. Generation after generation of youths had been lured away by the whales' song, while the elderly left behind wandered the village, sighing in lamentation before passing on, leaving only voiceless spirits in their wake.
At this thought, Zhongli turned to Rover.
"Do you know why Hu Tao has been unable to find the lingering attachments of these spirits?"
Rover pondered for a moment before answering.
"Because of the perpetual ley lines, right?"
Yes, the perpetual ley lines. They endlessly replay the past, and the spirits Hu Tao sought were merely reenactments conjured by the ley lines.
Wishes? Lingering attachments? Perhaps only the ley lines held the answers. That was why Hu Tao always failed.
And this was precisely the source of Zhongli's erosion—because he believed these spirits should not have lost their attachments and been left to wander.
The Geo Archon had only ever gazed upon the radiant harbor city at his feet, overlooking the silent, lifeless village at the base of Wuwang Hill.
This was the erosion that belonged to the Geo Archon. Zhongli, too, believed it was deserved.
Outside, the unending drizzle had finally ceased. On the damp soil, a few plum petals had already melted into the earth.
"Consultant Zhongli, Rover... I'm ready."
Hu Tao stepped inside, her heart uneasy. Aside from funeral rites, this was the first time she had dressed in such solemn formalwear.
Rover and Zhongli exchanged a glance before Zhongli spoke slowly:
"Mr. Hu would surely be proud to see Hu Tao like this."