51 points

When I saw Summer's head suddenly pop up from the mouth of the well, I felt a chill run down my spine. What the hell was happening? Had Summer not fallen in? Was her body floating inside the well? Could she actually possess some kind of supernatural skill?

While I was still startled, Summer spoke to me again: "Brother, your time is truly running out. Summer can only help you this once."

No sooner had she finished speaking than she vanished from my sight again, as if she'd fallen back into the well.

I stood frozen for a moment, then quickly realized there was something suspicious about the well. I dashed to its edge. Peering down, I saw a powerful suction cup fixed to the mouth of the well, with a long rope extending from it all the way to the bottom. Summer was already climbing down the rope, deep into the darkness.

As I leaned over, Summer looked up at me. Even in the dimness below, her eyes shone like a cat's, faintly glowing blue. The sight startled me. For a moment, I felt an urge to grab a knife and cut the rope—if I did, Summer would surely fall and be injured, unable to escape.

But I didn't go through with it. Instead, I shouted for my father, but no one responded. I decided to call Fang Qinghe and the police—after all, Summer had escaped from the station and appeared at my house. This was serious.

However, I realized my phone was still inside the house. As Summer disappeared from view, I grit my teeth and climbed into the well myself, descending along the rope—not because I was brave enough to act alone, but because I believed the police would follow soon, since Fang Qinghe had told me they'd secretly monitor me.

I quickly reached the bottom. I had always thought the well was dry, just a hollow depression. But as I touched down, I was stunned—there was more to this place than I'd imagined.

Someone had dug a hole in the well wall. It wasn't just a hole, but more like a passage. As I looked into it, a pair of glowing blue eyes appeared from the darkness, about ten meters away, frightening me with their otherworldly gleam.

Soon, I realized they belonged to Summer. It wasn't that Summer's eyes weren't normal—she must have been wearing luminous contact lenses. In my room, with the lights on, I hadn't noticed. I suspected she wore them not to scare me, but to help me find her in the darkness.

In other words, Summer was guiding me. She seemed intent on leading me somewhere.

Suddenly, her words echoed in my mind: "Brother, your time is truly running out. Summer can only help you this once."

Summer wanted to help me. For some reason, I trusted this seemingly strange girl. Gritting my teeth, I crawled into the passage.

The tunnel was just wide enough for me to squeeze through. I pressed forward, Summer's small frame allowing her to move quickly ahead. Whenever I felt lost in the endless dark, her blue eyes would turn back to guide me. At that moment, I realized how well we fit together—like the harmony in that old photograph.

I have no idea how long I crawled. I was curious about who had dug this passage beneath the ground. Then I recalled my father's words: he said our house always felt as if someone lived there. I shivered—my father hadn't lied. Who was this frequent resident? Was it the same pervert who dug this tunnel beneath the well?

As my legs began to numb, Summer started to climb upward. Apparently, we’d reached our destination.

This time there was no rope, but a long ladder, much safer. After Summer climbed out, I followed.

As soon as I emerged, I shivered uncontrollably. The first thing I felt was cold—bone-chilling cold, as if it were winter. Glancing around, I understood why: we were inside a mountain cave, and the tunnel had led us right into it.

Inside, waves of icy air rolled out, as if a cold storage lay hidden before us. Not far ahead stood a massive door, with cold air seeping from beneath it.

Summer walked up to the door, stood with her back to it, and looked at me. "Brother, Summer has brought you here. If you still can't remember this time, Summer might die because of you."

Her words tugged at my heart—I didn't want her to die.

I asked, "Summer, why did you bring me here?"

"Because I don't want you to die," she answered.

I couldn't quite grasp her meaning, but I understood enough. She seemed to imply this place could help me recover my memories—if I did, I wouldn't have to die.

I pressed further: "Summer, weren't you locked up at the police station? How did you end up at my house?"

Summer replied, "Uncle Fang let me out."

At first, I didn't recognize who this Uncle Fang was, but then it hit me. The only police officer named Fang I knew was Fang Qinghe. Could he have released Summer?

I drew in a sharp breath. If Fang Qinghe was connected to the killer, it would be devastating—he was the chief investigator of these cases.

I asked Summer, "Why did Fang Qinghe let you go?"

She answered, "Uncle Fang wants me to help you regain your memories, so you can become the real Chen Mu again."

Her words struck me like lightning. Summer didn't deny Fang Qinghe's name—in fact, he was her Uncle Fang. He had released her to help me recover my memories. Was Fang Qinghe really hiding something so deep?

After a brief suspicion, I dismissed the thought. My instincts told me Fang Qinghe wasn't a bad person and had no motive to turn evil. Maybe the real traitor released Summer and wanted to pin it on Fang Qinghe.

Lost in thought, Summer suddenly asked, "Brother, are you ready?"

I nodded instinctively. Summer pressed the red button on the door. I heard the hum of machinery as the door opened, releasing a blast of cold air.

Cold, but not as cold as I'd imagined—not like a freezer, more like a low-temperature storage.

Summer slipped inside, and I summoned my courage to follow.

The moment I stepped through, chills ran all over me—not from the cold, but from fear. The scene before me was terrifying.

This was a space of several dozen square meters, with a long shelf stretching across it.

Each compartment on the shelf held a large glass tank, much like a fish tank. The tanks contained water, but no fish—instead, they held human heads.

Yes, every glass tank contained a head, the eyes swollen from soaking, bulging from their sockets, an unnerving sight.

Soon, I realized many of the heads were familiar—Zhang Wentong, Chen Jing, Chen Mengying... their heads floated in those tanks.

And besides these familiar faces, the tanks toward the front held heads I didn't recognize. Who were they? Why were their heads stored with those of Zhang Wentong and the others? Judging by the order, the tanks seemed arranged by time of death.

I instinctively drew closer. I discovered the skulls of these heads had been opened, the insides hollowed out—just empty shells, with all the brains and tissues removed. It was grotesque.

Each tank bore a label, with my name and a number: Chen Mu 3, Chen Mu 2, Chen Mu 1...

The first few tanks with unfamiliar heads were labeled Chen Mu 3. From Zhang Wentong onward, the labels changed to Chen Mu 2. For the others I recognized, the labels read Chen Mu 1.

Curious about what these heads and labels meant, Summer suddenly said, "Brother, haven't you remembered yet? Your points are running low. You're about to lose."