Morning came, The first few shopkeepers opened their wooden doors, while smoke rose from the kitchen chimneys and drifted above the rooftops.A farmer led his ox towards the fields, and an old woman carried a bamboo basket towards the well. Everything looked familiar, but the sunlight seemed strangely dull. It fell across the rooftops and narrow streets without its usual warmth, and even the shadows appeared to be in the wrong places. Xu Yang sat at the entrance of the shrine, watching the village wake up. He had barely slept.His gaze followed a bird flying over the rooftops. It circled once before suddenly changing direction, as if it had forgotten where it was going.
Xu Yang's ears twitched. This is getting worse... He lowered his head and looked at the stone beneath his paws. Not the kind of worse where something explodes or a demon suddenly jumps out of nowhere. That would at least make sense. This is just... things becoming strange one by one, and everyone acting as though nothing happened... His tail curled around his paws. Yesterday, the villagers couldn't remember what they had seen. Today, even the things around them seem to be changing...He looked towards the shrine. What happens if this continues? Will people forget their homes? Their families? Will they eventually forget that this village even existed?...He paused, then gave a small shake of his head. No, thinking about it won't help. I need actual answers. Unfortunately, I don't even know which question to ask first.
The village woke in fragments. A wooden door opened in one house, although its owner was certain she had closed it the previous night. In another courtyard, a cooking pot boiled over because the woman tending the fire had forgotten she had placed it there. A farmer stood in the middle of the road, holding his hoe and staring at it with a confused expression. He looked at his hands, then at the tool, as though trying to remember why he had brought it outside. After a moment, he shrugged and continued towards his field. No one panicked. They had begun accepting these small mistakes as ordinary forgetfulness. But forgetting things separately was one matter. Forgetting them together was something else.
At the carpentry shed near the market, Master Hu stood before his workbench with a frown. He was an elderly man with grey hair tied into a small knot, and his hands were rough from years of working with wood. He reached towards the wall where he usually kept his hammer, but his fingers touched only the empty wooden peg. He stopped and looked at it again. The hammer was missing. Master Hu frowned. The door had remained barred throughout the night, and he remembered hanging the hammer there before closing the shed. He had used the same peg for nearly twenty years. He slowly turned towards the workbench and looked beneath it. "I must be getting old." he muttered, rubbing his forehead. He bent down to check the floor, but his movement stopped when he noticed the hammer lying on the bench behind him. He stared at it for a moment before reaching for it. "There you are," he said, picking it up. He did not question how it had moved. Instead, he returned to his work and began striking a wooden plank. However, his blows were uneven. He would raise the hammer, pause for half a breath, and then bring it down, as though his hands remembered the movement but his mind had forgotten the rhythm.
Across the shed, a young apprentice was counting the chisels arranged on a wooden shelf. He frowned and counted them again. "Master Hu, there were seven chisels here," he said, pointing towards the shelf. Master Hu continued working. "There are seven." The boy shook his head and counted once more, moving his finger from one tool to another. "One, two, three, four, five, six..." He stopped. His eyebrows drew together as he stared at the shelf. "Wait. I was trying to..." He scratched his head, unable to remember what he had wanted to say. Master Hu struck the plank again. "Stop wasting time and bring me the smaller chisel."
The boy nodded and reached for the tools. Whatever he had been trying to remember disappeared from his mind. On Willow Lane, Mrs. Deng stepped out of her house carrying an empty wooden bucket. She had lived in the same house for thirty-eight years and knew every corner of the lane. The village well was to her left. It had always been there, beside the old stone wall. She walked five steps before stopping. A blank wall stood before her. Mrs. Deng blinked and looked around. There was no well, no bucket rope and no muddy path leading towards it. She turned slowly. The well stood to her right, several paces away from where she remembered it. Her fingers tightened around the bucket handle. "I must have..." She stopped and frowned. She tried to remember which direction she had walked yesterday, but the thought slipped away before she could hold on to it. After a moment, she shook her head and walked towards the well. Perhaps it had always been there. Perhaps she had simply taken the wrong turn. By the time she pulled the bucket from the water, her earlier certainty had already begun to disappear. Behind her, a small child crouched near the ground, tracing circles in the dirt where the well's base had stood the previous day.
Xu Yang watched everything from the shrine entrance. His expression remained still, but his ears moved whenever someone stopped to question their surroundings. Is all of this happening because of me?... He looked at the villagers moving through the streets, each one adjusting to something they could not remember. His claws pressed lightly against the stone. I knew the world was trying to correct something, but I didn't think it would affect everyone around me... He lowered his gaze. I should not exist. The thought no longer sounded like a dramatic complaint. It was beginning to feel like a conclusion the world had already reached. He looked towards the woman carrying water. She had lived in this village for decades, yet now she could barely remember where her own well stood. I can't do anything for them. What am I supposed to do? Walk around telling everyone to remember where they put their belongings?His tail moved once before settling against the ground. If I'm the reason this keeps happening, then perhaps staying here is making things worse... He looked towards the road leading out of the village.
At the edge of the market square, an elderly couple stood facing each other. Old Ren held a small wrapped parcel in his hands, while his wife watched him with a gentle smile. They had been married for forty-two years. Their neighbours knew them well, and everyone in the market was familiar with their daily routine. They usually bought tea together in the morning, returned home before noon and spent the evening sitting beneath the eaves of their house. Today, however, something was different. Old Ren looked down at the parcel and turned it over in his hands. "What's the occasion?" he asked, glancing at his wife. She smiled and adjusted the edge of her sleeve. "Our anniversary."
Old Ren gave a short laugh. "That's in autumn." His wife shook her head. "No, it's today. We were married on the first day of the Rain Month. You always say the sky wept for joy that day." She waited for him to smile, but his expression slowly changed. Old Ren looked at her face and then at the parcel in his hands. He tried to remember the wedding. He knew he had once been young. He knew he had stood beside a woman in a red wedding robe, surrounded by relatives and friends. But when he tried to remember the details, nothing appeared. There were no red lanterns, no wedding feast and no nervous bride lowering her gaze. He could not even remember the day they had first met. His fingers began to tremble. "I..." He swallowed and looked at her again. "I don't remember." His wife stared at him.
At first, she seemed to think he was joking. She waited for the familiar teasing smile to appear, but it never came. "Ren," she whispered, stepping closer. "What are you saying?" Old Ren lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry. I know we've been together for many years, but I can't remember our wedding." His wife slowly reached for the parcel, but her fingers failed to hold it properly. It slipped from her hands and struck the ground. The soft sound made her look down. She bent to pick it up, but Old Ren was quicker. He crouched and retrieved it before placing it carefully back in her hands. Neither spoke for a while.
Around them, the market continued as usual. Merchants called out their prices, customers examined vegetables, and children ran between the stalls. No one noticed the old couple standing quietly in the middle of the square. His wife finally took his hand. "That's all right." she said, pressing the parcel against his palm. "We can celebrate again." Her voice remained gentle, but her fingers held his hand more tightly than before. Old Ren looked at her for a long moment. He wanted to say something, but he did not know what.
From the shade of a nearby tea stall, Shen Lian watched the couple. She had been sitting there for some time, observing the changes throughout the village. Her cup of tea had already grown cold, but she had barely touched it. Her attention was fixed on the invisible threads surrounding the villagers. Unlike ordinary people, Shen Lian could see the memory threads that connected a person's past to their present. Every familiar place, every important meeting and every small habit left traces in those threads. They were what allowed people to recognise their homes, remember their families and understand the passage of time. Yet the threads in this village were no longer behaving normally.
Shen Lian slowly placed her teacup on the wooden table. Her eyes narrowed as she followed several threads drifting above the market. "The threads are weakening." she murmured. The old tea seller, who was arranging cups behind the counter, glanced at her. "Did you say something, miss?" Shen Lian looked towards him before shaking her head. "Nothing. Please continue your work." The old man nodded and returned to arranging the cups. Shen Lian lowered her gaze again. The threads were not completely broken. Some had simply changed direction. She could see a memory of the planting season connected to a moment in winter, while another thread carrying the memory of a child's first steps had shifted towards a day that had not yet happened.
A few threads hung loose, no longer attached to either end. She extended two fingers towards one of them. The moment her fingertip touched it, the thread trembled and moved away. Shen Lian withdrew her hand. These are not ordinary memory loss. Something is changing the connection between the past and the present... She looked towards the market square, where Old Ren and his wife were slowly walking away. "Something is rewriting their continuity." she said quietly. Her gaze shifted towards the shrine. "This village is no longer stable in its memories. It's being edited." She finished the cold tea and placed the cup aside.
The threads above the village continued to move, but their paths were no longer straight. Some sagged, others crossed one another, and a few disappeared before reaching their destinations. Shen Lian followed their direction with her eyes. Every distortion led towards the same place. The shrine. And the black cat sitting at its entrance. By afternoon, the villagers had begun finding small ways to protect themselves. Some tied strips of coloured cloth to their doors so they could recognise their houses. Others marked their tools with charcoal or placed wooden signs beside their courtyards. A few parents told their children not to wander alone. No one explained why these precautions had suddenly become necessary. They simply felt safer having something familiar to look at.
At the shrine, the little boy from the previous day returned. He approached Xu Yang with a serious expression, holding a long piece of string in both hands. Several knots had been tied along its length. The boy crouched beside the cat and placed the string on the stone step. "I made this for myself." he explained, holding up one end. Xu Yang looked at the string and then at him. The boy pointed towards the knots. "I tied one whenever I remembered something important." He carefully touched the first knot. "This one is my mother's name. This one is my father's name. And this one is the way back to my house." Xu Yang blinked. The boy lifted the string proudly. "Now I won't forget."
Xu Yang stared at the knots. That's actually not a bad idea. Although I doubt a piece of string can protect anyone from whatever is happening here. Still, at least someone is trying something instead of pretending everything is normal... The boy wrapped the string around his wrist before sitting beside the cat. "You should stay here." he said, looking at Xu Yang. "If you leave, I might not find you again." Xu Yang turned his head towards him. The boy smiled and gently touched the cat's back. Xu Yang allowed it, although his ears twitched at the unfamiliar contact.
The afternoon passed slowly. By the time the sun began moving towards the western hills, the village had become even stranger. Shadows gathered beneath the wrong walls, and the eastern sky remained bright long after the sunlight had disappeared from the rooftops. Several shopkeepers lit their lanterns earlier than usual. A few villagers stood outside their houses, looking towards the sky with puzzled expressions. No one could explain why evening seemed to be taking so long.
Near the shrine, Yan Luo stood beneath the wooden eaves with his arms folded. He watched the villagers moving through the square. Some carried small lanterns, while others kept looking at the signs they had placed beside their doors. They moved carefully, as though afraid of making a mistake. Qing Li approached and stopped beside him. His eyes followed the villagers for a moment before he turned towards Yan Luo. "You feel it too?" he asked quietly. Yan Luo did not look at him. "I feel what isn't there." Qing Li tilted his head slightly. "What do you mean?" Yan Luo raised his hand and gestured towards the market. "Listen carefully."
Qing Li stopped speaking. At first, he heard nothing unusual. There were footsteps on the stone road, the sound of merchants closing their stalls and the occasional clink of bowls from nearby houses. But beneath those familiar sounds was something else. A strange hollowness, as though the village itself had lost a part of its rhythm. Qing Li's expression slowly became serious. "The world is skipping beats," he said. Yan Luo nodded once. "And pretending it hasn't." Both turned towards the shrine steps. Xu Yang remained in the same place, watching the village.
Near the well, several villagers had begun tying strips of red and yellow cloth to wooden posts. Qing Li walked closer to a woman who was tying a red strip around her door handle. "Why are you doing that?" he asked. The woman pulled the knot tight before looking at him. "So we know which house belongs to us." she replied. Qing Li glanced towards the other houses. "Have people been getting lost?" The woman hesitated. "Not exactly. Sometimes we return home and feel as though we've entered the wrong place." She adjusted the cloth and looked towards her doorway. "This should help."
Qing Li nodded and stepped aside. A little farther down the road, another woman was writing her children's names on their sleeves with charcoal. She carefully checked each name before letting them return to playing. An old man walked past, repeating his address under his breath. "East lane, third house, beside the old pine tree..." He repeated the words several times before continuing. The little boy at the shrine now had another string tied to the wooden railing. He tugged at it occasionally, checking the knots with his fingers. Qing Li crouched beside him. "Does it help?" he asked. The boy looked up and thought carefully before answering. "It helps me remember that I was remembering."
Qing Li remained still for a moment. He looked at the string around the boy's wrist, then towards the shrine. For once, he did not have a clever reply. The boy returned to examining his knots. Qing Li stood up and walked back towards Yan Luo. Meanwhile, Shen Lian had not returned to the shrine immediately after discovering the strange movement of the memory threads. Instead, she had walked around the outer edge of the village, following the threads towards the surrounding hills. She wanted to understand where the distortion began. The memory threads of a village usually became thinner as they approached the wilderness. They connected people to their homes, their neighbours and the places they visited... Beyond the village, those connections naturally weakened. But here, the threads were not fading normally. They were fraying. Their fine strands separated and drifted apart like loose silk...
Shen Lian stopped near an old stone marker and reached towards one of them. The moment her fingertip touched it, the thread dissolved. A faint chill passed through her hand. She withdrew it immediately and looked at her fingers. There was no spiritual energy left behind, not even the faintest trace of the memory it had once carried. It was as though the moment connected to that thread had never been allowed to exist. Shen Lian's expression darkened. She closed her eyes and followed the remaining threads backwards. Their paths led through the village, crossed the market square and gathered around the same place. The shrine. When Shen Lian finally returned, dusk had settled over the village.
The lanterns along the narrow streets were already lit, and their warm light fell across the stone courtyard. Yan Luo and Qing Li stood near the shrine entrance. Both had noticed her return, but neither approached. Shen Lian walked towards the lowest steps and stopped a few paces away from Xu Yang. The black cat looked up at her. She studied him for a moment before speaking. "You are not a demon." Her voice was quiet, but clear. Xu Yang's ears moved slightly. Shen Lian continued, keeping her gaze fixed on him. "You are not human either." She took one step closer. "Nor a spirit, a remnant or an echo." Her eyes narrowed as she examined the strange movement of the threads around his body. "You are a discrepancy."
Yan Luo's expression changed slightly. He glanced towards Qing Li, who had also become more alert. Qing Li leaned closer and lowered his voice. "She knows." His eyes shifted towards Xu Yang. "What if she tries to harm him?" Yan Luo did not take his eyes off Shen Lian. "I told you. She won't." Qing Li frowned. "That's not an answer. That's faith." Yan Luo finally turned his head slightly. "It's observation." Qing Li folded his arms. "Those aren't the same thing." Yan Luo looked back towards the shrine. "They are when you've seen enough." Qing Li studied him for a moment before speaking again. "And if she's wrong?" Yan Luo interrupted him. "She isn't." Qing Li raised an eyebrow. "You're very confident today." Yan Luo's expression remained unchanged. "I'm consistent." Qing Li let out a quiet breath and looked towards Shen Lian again. He had no intention of arguing further, but he remained ready to move if anything happened.
Xu Yang stood just beyond the shrine's invisible boundary, watching Shen Lian carefully. What is she planning to do? he wondered. Is she going to capture me?...His ears tilted backwards. That would be a problem. I don't even know where she would take me...He glanced towards Yan Luo and Qing Li, but neither seemed particularly worried. Great. They're both just standing there... He looked back at Shen Lian. What if she takes me somewhere I can't leave?... His thoughts continued despite his efforts to stop them. What if she decides to examine me? Or uses some strange cultivation technique to find out what I am?... He shifted his paws. No, don't start imagining things. There's no reason to assume she'll torture me. Still, I should probably be prepared to run...
Shen Lian took another step forward. Xu Yang watched her carefully, but she did not reach for him. Instead, her gaze moved towards the space between the shrine steps and the courtyard. "I have been observing the threads all day," she said. Her fingers slowly rose, and a faint stream of spiritual energy gathered around them. "Every living thing has a connection to its past. Even places carry traces of what happened within them." She looked towards the shrine entrance. "But these threads are changing whenever they approach you." Xu Yang blinked. I have no idea what you're talking about... Shen Lian extended her hand towards the entrance. The invisible threads trembled. "They should either remain fixed or break," she continued. "They should never change their direction on their own." Her fingers stopped in the air. "Yet yours do something different."
Xu Yang shifted slightly. Shen Lian's eyes narrowed as she watched him. "Show me." For a moment, nothing happened. Then Xu Yang stepped forward. His small paws crossed the invisible boundary where the shrine's memory threads should have been firmly anchored to the earth. The threads trembled. Shen Lian's breath caught. She watched closely as they moved around the cat. They did not break. They did not retreat. They simply changed direction, curving around his body as water flowed around a stone in a river. Shen Lian slowly lowered her hand. That was impossible. Memory threads could fray, become tangled or even be severed, but their connection between the past and the present was supposed to remain fixed. Yet here, they were adjusting themselves around something that should not have existed. The history of the shrine seemed to shift slightly, making room for the black cat.
Above them, the bronze bell gave a single, muted sound. Yan Luo looked up at it before lowering his gaze towards Xu Yang. "It's not that Heaven can't erase him." he murmured. Qing Li turned towards him. "Then what is it?" Yan Luo watched the threads move around the cat. "The world doesn't know where to put the hole." Qing Li's expression became thoughtful. He looked at the shrine and then at Xu Yang. "So it stitches around it." Neither spoke further. A moment later, a villager approached the shrine carrying a bundle of firewood. He was a middle-aged man with a tired expression, and the heavy bundle rested against his shoulder. He stopped at the foot of the steps and looked around uneasily. "I can't find my house." he said, more to himself than anyone else.
Shen Lian turned towards him. The man lowered the firewood slightly and rubbed his forehead. "The door was blue... or green. There was a crack in the frame, or perhaps that was my brother's house." He looked towards the nearby streets, trying to recognise something familiar. "I know I live somewhere around here, but..." His voice faded. He turned towards the shrine, and his eyes briefly settled on the black cat. For a moment, his expression cleared. "There was a shrine," he said slowly. He looked around with growing certainty. "Near my home. I remember seeing it every morning." He took a step forward, but the clarity in his eyes quickly disappeared. His forehead creased again. He looked towards the road, then at the bundle of firewood in his arms. Without another word, he turned and walked away, still unable to remember where he was going.
Shen Lian watched him disappear before slowly looking back at Xu Yang. "Proximity restores." she murmured. Her fingers moved slightly as she followed the memory threads. "Distance dissolves." Xu Yang's ears tilted backwards.What is she talking about now?..
.He looked at the man walking away before returning his gaze to Shen Lian. Proximity restores? Distance dissolves?...He flicked his tail in frustration. I've heard plenty of strange things since coming to this world, but this is getting ridiculous. Is she explaining something or trying to make me feel stupid?... He paused and looked at the invisible threads. I understand fights. I understand danger. I understand when someone is trying to kill me. But this... His ears lowered slightly. This sounds like something I'm supposed to know already. Like everyone else understands what I am except me... He remained quiet, trying to make sense of her words, but nothing became clearer.
Before Shen Lian could continue, small footsteps sounded from the courtyard. The little boy returned, dragging a short wooden stool behind him. The stool scraped against the stone, making a rough noise as he pulled it towards the shrine. He stopped beside Xu Yang and adjusted its position with both hands. After making sure it would not fall over, he climbed onto it and sat down. His feet dangled above the ground. He looked directly at the cat, then glanced towards the string tied around his wrist. "If I sit here, I don't forget my mother's face." he said.Qing Li turned towards him. His fingers, which had been resting inside his sleeve, tightened slightly. Yan Luo looked at the child before lowering his gaze.
The boy leaned closer to Xu Yang and spoke in a quieter voice. "Are you keeping the memories safe?" Xu Yang looked at him but did not move. The string around the boy's wrist trembled faintly. Its knots remained tightly tied, neither loosening nor tightening. The child did not notice the movement. He simply smiled and looked towards the shrine. Shen Lian, however, had noticed it. Her gaze shifted from the string to the cat, and her expression became more serious. The connection between the boy and his memories seemed stronger whenever he remained close to Xu Yang. She did not speak. There was still too much she did not understand.
Night finally settled over the village. This time, the darkness came at the proper hour, and the moon appeared above the rooftops. Lanterns glowed along the shrine steps, while the villagers gradually returned to their homes. Most avoided the courtyard after sunset, guided by an uneasiness they could not explain. The little boy was eventually called home by his mother. He climbed down from the stool, picked up his string and gave Xu Yang one last look before leaving. Yan Luo and Qing Li remained nearby. Shen Lian stood before the shrine, her attention fixed on the countless memory threads surrounding the village. They moved slowly through the night, brushing against her spiritual sense like fine strands of silk. She looked at the cat again.
Xu Yang looked back at her. Shen Lian took a small breath before speaking. "You are the centre of it." Xu Yang froze. For a moment, his thoughts went completely blank. Centre? He repeated the word in his mind. So that's it? I've been sitting here like an idiot, and now someone has finally figured everything out... He stared at Shen Lian. Is this where I say goodbye to the world?... He even felt a strange, reluctant admiration for her. She really does seem to know everything... But the thought lasted only a moment before his attention returned to the present. No. Wait. This is not the time to think like that...His ears slowly tilted backwards. Your life might actually be in danger...The black cat remained still, his golden eyes reflecting the lantern light. Behind him, the bronze shrine bell swayed gently, although there was no wind.