Terror on the Journey

I was live-streaming a road trip with my mom, excited to share the beautiful views and our joy with the viewers. But out of nowhere, a comment popped up that was both disturbing and offensive:
“Be careful, streamer. Your mom’s driving isn’t normal. She might already be dead and turned into a ‘mummy.’ If you keep going like this, you’ll end up in another world.”

My blood boiled instantly. Without thinking, I fired back, “You’re the one who’s not normal! It’s messed up to joke about someone’s family!”

The chat exploded in support, with viewers rallying to my defense and calling the rude commenter out. But he wasn’t finished—he posted again:
“I’m not joking. Look at her hands. Dead people have stiff joints. She’s already frozen.”

I didn’t even bother to reply this time. I just kicked him out of the stream. But even then, I couldn’t shake the knot in my stomach.

This road trip was something I had been looking forward to for so long. A rare opportunity to spend time with my mom, and I’d been excited to connect with my viewers in a positive way. Instead, one malicious comment had completely soured the mood.

I took a deep breath and addressed the camera:
“Let me explain something. My mom raised me on her own by selling roasted sweet potatoes. In the winter, her hands would freeze so badly that she developed long-term stiffness in her joints. That’s why her movements seem a little rigid.”

The viewers, hearing this, were even more outraged. The chat flooded with supportive messages:
“You shouldn’t have kicked him out. He needed to hear that!”
“I can’t stand people who make jokes about other people’s families. Don’t they have families of their own?”

Honestly, if this had happened at any other time, I probably would have ignored the joke. But this trip was different.

Soon, I’ll be heading to the mountains to teach. The climate there is harsh, and with my mom’s health, it’s impossible for her to come visit. Plus, the teaching station is understaffed, so even during breaks, I’ll likely have to stay behind to handle things. There won’t be many chances to see her again, let alone travel together.

This road trip wasn’t just a regular vacation for me; it felt more like a “goodbye.”

I quickly pushed aside the negative thoughts and began sharing memories of my mom with the viewers—the funny stories from when she sold sweet potatoes, the warmth of her hands as she knitted gloves for me in the cold winters…

The chat instantly brightened, and the kind comments washed away the earlier bitterness. Everyone was sending their well wishes, saying things like, “Hope your mom stays healthy,” and “Take care of yourself while teaching!”

The camera angle captured my mom just as she entered the frame.

I glanced at her, and immediately, something felt off. Her smile was stiff, and an unshakable, eerie feeling crept up from the pit of my stomach.

The person who’d been kicked out of the stream earlier had messaged me privately.

“Sorry if I offended you. I wasn’t joking, though. My family works in the funeral business, and I’ve seen things most people couldn’t even imagine. If you don’t believe me, talk to your mom more. Her tongue and vocal cords might already be stiff. She won’t be able to respond much.”

I stared at the message, chills crawling up my spine. I wanted to block him immediately, but something in me hesitated—an unease that made me linger on the words.

I looked back at my mom. She was focused on driving, sitting upright, looking every bit the picture of a careful driver. But then, her eyes slowly shifted toward me, glancing at me from the corner of her vision.

That look—it was cold, lifeless. It sent a jolt through my nerves. I quickly turned away, pretending nothing was wrong, and angled my phone so she wouldn’t see the message on the screen.

“Mom, how much longer until we reach the service area? I need to use the bathroom,” I asked, my voice trembling slightly.

“Not long,” she replied in a low, raspy voice—unlike her usual tone, more like someone much older.

I thought back over the drive. She’d been strangely quiet, her smile constant while I chatted away, as though she were intentionally avoiding conversation.

The anxiety gnawed at me, and I no longer had the heart to continue the live stream. I was terrified she might’ve seen the comments, so I didn’t dare respond to the message. I could only stare out the window, trying to force myself to relax.

But no matter how beautiful the scenery outside, it couldn’t calm the tension coiling in my chest. Every few moments, I’d steal a glance at her. And each time, her eyes would lock onto mine, as though she could sense every movement I made.

That gaze—it was unblinking, like two glass marbles frozen in time.

At last, we arrived at the service area. I quickly scrambled out of the car, heading straight for the restroom, but my phone buzzed continuously as new messages from the same viewer appeared.

“Do you believe me now? She’s not your mom. Don’t stay alone with her. I’m afraid she’s going to take your life.”

“There’s a belief that when loved ones die, they don’t want to be alone. They come back to take the one they were closest to in life. She might look like your mom, but she’s not her anymore.”

“Why aren’t you responding? Are you okay?”

“I saw your stream earlier. Your car isn’t far from me. I’m coming to you now.”

“Hang in there. Don’t let her notice anything is wrong!”

I took a deep breath, my hands shaking as I typed back, “I’m fine. I’m at the service area.”

His reply was immediate: “Wait for me. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

There was a long line for the women’s restroom. Normally, I’d find it annoying, but now it felt like a lifeline. I wished the wait would last forever.

When I finally stepped out of the restroom, I saw my mom standing by the car, her eyes locked on me. She hadn’t moved an inch, her smile still frozen in place. The sight made my skin crawl.

Yesterday, that smile had made me feel safe and loved. Now, all I wanted to do was run.

I forced myself to push the fear down and walked toward her, trying to seem normal. “Mom, I’m hungry. Let’s grab something to eat before we go.”

She didn’t speak, but I heard it—a long, hollow sigh that seemed to come from deep within the earth, cold and unsettling.

It was midday, the sun beating down hard, but I felt a chill creeping through me.

Finally, she spoke, her voice low and strained: “Alright.”

We walked toward the restaurant in the service area. My mom was still wearing that long dress, but something was wrong with her movements. Her steps were unnatural, as if she were floating just above the ground, her body unnervingly still.

As we neared the restaurant door, she stopped suddenly, turning to look at me. Her smile stayed fixed, unmoving. “Tingting, what do you want to eat? Mom will buy it for you. I won’t eat. I haven’t been feeling well these past couple of days. My throat’s been strange.”

This time, my mom’s voice finally sounded like her old self.

In that instant, I felt like an absolute fool. How could I have doubted that my real mother was still alive just because of a few messages from a stranger online?

I knew better than anyone how sick she was.

Roasting sweet potatoes may look like a cozy task—standing by the stove for warmth—but it’s actually easy to get chilled. Mom never wore gloves when she worked. She handled the stove, packed the bags, and took the money all with her bare hands, trying to be as quick as possible so customers wouldn’t get impatient. The heat from the stove warmed her hands, but the cold wind would hit them, and the constant shift from hot to cold, year after year, led to frostbite that lingered.

It wasn’t just stiffness—her hands would hurt terribly in the cold. But she never told me, afraid I’d worry. I only found out later that she’d always rub her left hand with her right, and vice versa, to ease the pain.

Her eyes were the same. Constant exposure to the stove had dried them out, and they didn’t move as much anymore. It had been like that for a while. As for that long dress—Mom’s body was frail. No matter how hot it was, she was always afraid of getting cold.

Every doubt I had could be explained by the years of hardship she’d endured.

But how could I have let a few strange private messages make me second-guess her?

This was my mom—the one who was so excited to travel with me, to spend time together.

Sitting in the restaurant with the air conditioning blasting, I felt hot with guilt, wishing I could just disappear.

I ordered two simple rice bowls and tried to steady myself, focusing on making Mom smile.

“Mom, do you remember when I used to ‘cook’ for you when I was little?”

When I was a kid, after Mom made dinner for me, I’d insist on being the ‘chef’ again. One dish, one soup, with rice, and I’d proudly arrange it like a ‘creative masterpiece.’ I’d even present it with a serious face: “Mom, this is my ‘Loving Mother Soup!’”

The restaurant offered free soup, so I thought I could ‘recreate the classic.’

I scooped up a bowl of soup, mixed it with my rice, and playfully held the spoon up to her mouth. “Mom! Look, this is the ‘Loving Mother Dish,’ made with the finest love, mixed with my devotion, specially made for you!”

I was eagerly waiting for her to respond, but she just smiled faintly and gently pushed my spoon away. “I’m not hungry.”

Her voice was soft, and her complexion had paled even more.

I stared at her, a deep ache settling in my chest. How much had she sacrificed to raise me?

“Mom, I wish you could always be healthy, always be happy!”

She smiled at me, but didn’t say a word.

Just then, a tall young man suddenly sat down next to me.

There were plenty of empty seats in the restaurant, and strangers usually kept their distance. But he chose the seat right next to me, sat down without hesitation, gave me a meaningful look, and then turned to my mom. “Hello, Auntie. I’m Li Fei, Tingting’s friend.”

It hit me instantly—him! The guy who’d sent me private messages on the stream, warning me to be careful about my mom!

He had watched my stream, so not only did he recognize my face, but he also called me by name.

My mom looked at him with some confusion but didn’t say anything.

Li Fei placed the items he was holding on the table and smiled. “I bought this on the way here. It looked fresh.”

I glanced down at what he had brought—it was a piece of raw meat, still stained with blood.

In that moment, I caught my mom—who had shown no reaction to the food and had just pushed my spoon away—actually swallow, just a little.

Li Fei smiled and continued, “Auntie, Tingting asked me to come mostly to help with the driving. You two finally have the chance to travel together, so you should enjoy it to the fullest! Let me handle the tiring part.”

Mom raised an eyebrow slightly, her voice taking on the tone of an interrogation. “A friend?”

I nodded.

At that point, even though I still felt uneasy, I knew he’d come all this way with good intentions. I couldn’t just embarrass him in front of my mom.

Once I confirmed it, Mom began speaking with Li Fei.

“How did you two meet?”

“We met online. We both enjoy livestreaming, and we started chatting every now and then, so we got to know each other.”

“How did you get here?”

“I drove myself. Don’t worry, Auntie. I parked the car at a service station. I’ll come back for it later.”

Mom’s tone remained cool and clipped, each question feeling like an interrogation.

While they talked, I quietly opened my phone to check the messages Li Fei had sent me. As expected, he had shared more information about the “mei corpse”:

“She reacts to fresh meat with blood on it. I’ll test it with a piece later. You need to observe closely!”
“This isn’t a small matter! I’m really here to help you. If you don’t believe me, there’s nothing I can do.”

I glanced at my mom from the corner of my eye. She was still talking to Li Fei, but her gaze was locked onto the raw meat in a way that felt almost unnatural, as if her eyes were glued to it.

Li Fei’s messages kept coming:
“Don’t let her realize we know what she is. The ‘mei corpse’ will slowly drain your life force, and once your energy is almost identical to hers, she’ll take your life and bind your soul to hers forever.”
“But if she realizes she can’t take your soul, she may snap and attack you.”
“The most important thing is not to show fear. Everything must seem normal. Later, I’ll drive you both to my place. My grandfather is very powerful. He’ll protect you.”

A cold chill ran down my spine.

I glanced back at the raw meat. As my eyes met my mom’s, still focused on it, memories of last night flashed through my mind.

We’d stayed in the same room. Mom had held me while we slept, but her body was completely still, like a rock—she didn’t move once the whole night.

When I woke up this morning, I felt completely drained. Even though I’d slept for ten hours, I felt like all my energy had been sucked out. This was strange for me—I usually feel fine after just six hours of sleep.

Then something else came to mind. In the middle of the night, I’d heard birds calling outside the window, followed by a muffled thud, and then silence. This morning, while I was getting ready, I’d caught Mom hiding in the bathroom, seemingly chewing on something. I asked, “Mom, what are you eating? Why are you hiding in the bathroom?”

She wiped her mouth quickly and said, “Cookies, I didn’t want to wake you.”

I hadn’t seen the cookies, and I hadn’t noticed any packaging around. But her hurried motions, wiping her mouth, felt off now that I thought about it.

While checking out, I’d also found a feather on the windowsill, with a few fine hairs scattered around it—like a bird had struggled and dropped some feathers.

All these things coming together sent a chill down my spine.

I glanced back at Mom again. Her eyes were still fixed on the raw meat.

My heart was in turmoil, but I forced myself to look calm. I quickly finished my meal and stood up. “All done. Let’s head back to the car, we still have places to go.”

After Li Fei got in the car, Mom naturally sat in the back, and I quickly climbed into the front passenger seat, silently hoping we’d reach Li Fei’s grandfather’s house soon.

But as soon as the car started, Mom spoke up. “Sit in the back, keep me company.”

Her tone, as always, was blunt, but the deep, tired voice sent a shiver down my spine, like a strange ghost was whispering in my ear.

I instinctively turned to Li Fei, my eyes silently pleading for help. He immediately understood, smiling warmly with a hint of affection. “Tingting, it’s fine. Go keep Auntie company. This trip is all about you two, after all.”

At the same time, when Mom wasn’t looking, he subtly winked at me.

I immediately understood his intent and responded teasingly, “The more you say that, the guiltier I feel! You came all the way here, and I can’t just treat you like the driver!”

Then, I turned to Mom, pouting. “Mom, driving’s exhausting, and people get tired easily. Let me sit up front and chat with him. It won’t be long before we’re there.”

Mom snorted in acknowledgment, as if agreeing.

Once I got her confirmation, the car began moving.

Before starting the car, Li Fei casually hung the bag of bloodied raw meat on the hook behind his seat, placing it directly in my mom’s line of sight, just within her reach.

He gave me a knowing glance, and the look in his eyes told me this wasn’t a coincidence.

Through the rearview mirror, I saw my mom’s gaze fixed on the meat. She swallowed again, barely noticeable.

As the car merged onto the main road, Li Fei turned off the GPS. Originally, we were supposed to head to a flower field three kilometers away, but suddenly, he made a sharp turn at an intersection.

My mom, sensing something was off, spoke up sharply, “Where are we going? Tell me the truth.”

Li Fei remained calm, his tone smooth and unflappable. “Auntie, I’m familiar with this area. There’s a river nearby, lined with flowers on both sides. Only locals know about it, and it’s even better than the place you planned to visit. I’m not just a driver; I can also be your guide!”

His words were convincing, but my mom’s response was cold, direct. “You and Tingting don’t know each other. I can tell. Pull over.”

My heart skipped a beat. I exchanged a quick, worried glance with Li Fei.

The “mei corpse” was smarter than we thought—she was already starting to catch on.

“Don’t trust strangers, Tingting. Be good,” my mom’s voice was eerily familiar, but there was a cold, unsettling edge to it that I didn’t recognize.

I could feel her presence behind me, like an invisible pressure, growing closer with every passing second, causing a chill to crawl down my spine.

Li Fei’s jaw tightened. He floored the gas pedal, clearly aware that if the mei corpse lost control now, with the car speeding down the highway, we’d all be in grave danger.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” My mom’s voice grew louder, shriller, scraping across my nerves like a knife.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at the rearview mirror, terrified of seeing that twisted, unnatural expression on my mom’s face—an expression I knew she could never have.

Suddenly, two cold hands shot out from behind me, locking tight around Li Fei’s neck!

“Mom!” I screamed, paralyzed with fear.

Li Fei gripped the steering wheel with all his strength, desperately trying to keep the car steady. His face turned purple, but he didn’t dare struggle too hard, afraid of causing an accident. His breaths grew increasingly shallow, and it was clear he was close to suffocating.

“Mom! Let go!” I cried, my voice breaking. “We’re going to crash, Mom! Let go!”

To my surprise, my mom actually loosened her grip. She slowly turned her head, staring at me blankly. The fierce expression had faded, replaced by confusion.

“Mom, he’s really my friend! What’s wrong? Don’t scare me, Mom! Are you feeling okay?” I begged, my voice trembling.

She seemed to twitch, her eyebrows moving stiffly, as if her skin had lost its flexibility. The frown was brief, almost imperceptible.

Seeing me cry, she made a gesture as though to wipe away my tears, but instinctively, I recoiled in fear.

She froze for a moment, then slowly pulled her hand back. Her gaze fell to her palm, and she turned her head to stare out the window, lost in thought. She didn’t speak another word.

Li Fei and I sat in the front seat, our backs pressed stiffly against the seatbacks, our bodies tense as if drawn taut like a bowstring. Neither of us dared to speak. The shock of the earlier moment still lingered, and my peripheral vision caught movement from my mom—she was stirring.

Her hand slowly reached for the bag of bloody meat hanging behind the seat, her movements sluggish and stiff, like a rusted machine whose gears were grinding awkwardly out of sync.

I exchanged a glance with Li Fei, both of us too afraid to even breathe too loudly. The car was unnervingly silent, save for the soft hum of the tires against the road. Li Fei eased off the accelerator, cautious that even the slightest misstep could trigger disaster.

According to Li Fei’s “mei corpse theory,” my mom might have already realized her true nature had been exposed. But why hadn’t she attacked us again? What was she waiting for?

I felt like my nerves were being squeezed by an invisible cord. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the backseat for even a second. Slowly, she bent down, her motions stiff as a malfunctioning fan, making a faint scratching sound that filled the air with an eerie, off-putting dissonance.

Then came the sound of plastic rustling.

She had taken the bag of bloodied meat.

My breath hitched in my throat, my heartbeat hammering in my ears.

Next came the sound of chewing—the dry tearing, the grinding of teeth, the faint sloshing of saliva.

I stiffly turned my head to glance at Li Fei. His expression was even more intense than mine, lips pressed into a thin line. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that the veins in his hands bulged, but he didn’t speak. We couldn’t communicate in this situation—he was driving, and neither of us could use our phones.

The car turned onto a narrow dirt road, and through the windshield, I finally glimpsed a village in the distance. Li Fei’s voice was a low whisper, barely audible. “We’re almost there. This is my family’s place.”

He paused for a moment before raising his voice slightly, though his tone remained soft. “Auntie, I know the ride’s been long. How about we stop by my place for a bit? You can rest, have some tea, and then I’ll take you to see the flowers.”

There was no reply from the backseat.

The rustling of the plastic bag continued, blending with the spine-chilling sounds of chewing, echoing in the confined space like a slow, haunting march toward death. My skin prickled with cold sweat, my body taut as if it might snap at any moment.

Li Fei leaned toward me and whispered, “My grandfather likes it here, though we’ve moved to the town now. The car won’t make it any further down this road, so we’ll have to walk the rest of the way.”

He raised his voice a bit, tentatively adding, “Auntie, the car can’t go any farther. Should we get out and walk?”

Still, no response.

When the car finally came to a stop at the end of the road, the silence inside the vehicle became even more suffocating. The sound of the plastic bag was amplified, each rustle piercing my ears like needles.

I didn’t dare look back, terrified of seeing something even worse than I’d imagined. I only dared glance at the rearview mirror—my mom’s back rose and fell slightly, her posture no longer human, but more like a beast crouched over its prey.

The strange sensation nearly pushed me over the edge. Her rigid movements, her unnatural posture, that face so familiar yet so alien… It was too close, too unsettling.

I couldn’t take it anymore. Without thinking, I threw open the car door and jumped out, as if fleeing for my life.

Li Fei followed quickly, slipping out the other side with a quiet grace, as though walking on glass, careful not to make a sound. The car doors stood open, and the air was thick with the cold, metallic scent of blood.

He hesitated for a moment before calling out, “Auntie, we’re here. You can get out now.”

We stood outside, peering into the car through the windows, the scene in the backseat clearer now.

She was still hunched over, like a wolf crouched over its kill, mechanically chewing the bloody meat in her hands. Her head hung low, but I knew it could snap up at any moment, revealing her face, smeared with blood.

Li Fei’s expression was even graver than before. His voice dropped to a low whisper, as though afraid the wind might carry it away. “Tingting, go to the village and find my grandfather. Look for the house with the red door and the door gods—he’ll be there. I have to stay here and keep an eye on her. I can’t let her escape. If she hides and ambushes you, things will get even worse.”

I clenched my fists, my palms slick with cold sweat. Despite the fear crawling through me, I didn’t want Li Fei to face this danger alone. “Let me go instead. After all, she’s my mother…”

“No,” Li Fei cut me off, his gaze hard with determination. “She’s after you, not me. The chances of her attacking me are much lower. You need to go. The quicker you bring my grandfather, the safer we’ll be.”

I didn’t argue. The unease weighing heavily on my chest, I turned and ran toward the village.

The village wasn’t big, and the house with the red door and door gods was easy to spot. I hardly had to search before I found it. I knocked urgently, my fists thudding against the door. “Is Grandpa Li Fei home?”

The door opened, and an elderly man with an air of quiet authority peeked out, surprise flashing in his eyes. “Why are you alone? Where’s Li Fei?”

I didn’t have time for pleasantries. Out of breath, I quickly explained, “Li Fei’s waiting over there! He sent me to find you!”

At my words, the old man’s expression shifted instantly. “What? He’s alone with the ‘mei corpse’? That fool’s trying to get himself killed! Take me to him, quickly!”

Without another word, Grandpa hurried out, moving surprisingly fast for someone his age. I thought he would be slow, but his pace was quicker than I could match.

We ran back to the car, but when we arrived, it was empty. The back door was wide open, and the plastic bag lay abandoned on the seat. My mother was gone.

“Li Fei! Li Fei!” I called frantically, but the fields and woods stretched out, empty and endless. It was impossible to tell where they had gone.

Grandpa walked to the backseat, picked up the plastic bag, and frowned deeply. “Tch, this thing…” He gave the bag a gentle shake, revealing the mangled meat inside, its metallic stench thick in the air. He muttered to himself, “Strange. Why did the mei corpse eat it and then spit it out? Normally, she’d swallow it.”

He scanned the area, then suddenly pointed toward the woods. “They went that way. The mei corpse’s identity has been exposed. Anyone could become her target now. We need to find them, fast!”

The trail of footprints in the mud was clear—Li Fei’s, but the mei corpse had left no trace.

Grandpa’s brow furrowed deeper. “This isn’t right. This kind of evil corpse not only harms people but also retains its intellect. Such strong obsession isn’t common. This is bad!”

We followed the footprints into the woods, calling out for Li Fei and quickening our pace.

After about a hundred meters, I caught sight of a familiar figure—Mom stood beneath a tree, her head tilted back unnaturally. Her movements weren’t human anymore, but mechanical, like a broken doll.

Looking up, I saw Li Fei, desperately clutching the tree trunk. His voice shook as he shouted, “Don’t come any closer! Stay back!”

Mom heard the noise and jerked around violently, her entire body twisting in a single, abrupt motion. The unnaturalness of it sent a chill through me. Before I could even react, she lunged at me, her body rocketing forward like a cannonball.

“Get out of the way!” Li Fei shouted from the tree, panic in his voice. “She ate raw meat! Be careful! Grandpa, protect Tingting!”

Grandpa grabbed my arm and yanked me behind him, cursing under his breath. “Damn kid! I told you not to bring raw meat, but you did it anyway!”

I froze, my mind racing. I hadn’t fully understood the significance of the raw meat. Grandpa didn’t have time to explain. He immediately took a fighting stance, ready to face the mei corpse head-on.

In that moment, I saw just how formidable Grandpa was. He seemed frail, but with a graceful, Tai Chi-like precision, he deflected the mei corpse’s brutal attacks. Each time they collided, he used her own momentum against her, forcing her back a few steps.

Amid the chaos, Li Fei leapt down from the tree and sprinted to my side, grabbing my hand. “Hurry! Grandpa has something powerful at his place that can protect us!”

“What about Grandpa?” I hesitated, eyes flicking to the tense standoff between him and the mei corpse, worry gripping my chest.

“Don’t worry,” Li Fei gritted his teeth, turning back to shout at Grandpa, “He’s stronger than we thought! Hang in there, old man!”

Grandpa was still locked in combat with the mei corpse, his voice harsh with anger as he cursed, “You little brat! I’ll deal with you later!”

From his jacket, Grandpa pulled out a bundle of thin red thread. After forcing the mei corpse back a few steps, he flicked it into the air. The thread unfurled instantly, forming a net that settled securely over the creature.

The mei corpse’s charge faltered, its movements halting as it was trapped. I breathed a sigh of relief, but then her eyes locked with mine. They weren’t wild and beastly, but filled with human emotion—deep, terrified fear.

Her lips trembled, barely able to form a few broken words: “Run… Tingting… run…”

A flood of memories hit me like a wave, drowning me in their weight. Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. Everything felt too familiar—too much like what had happened fifteen years ago.

“Run! Tingting, run!”

He had shouted that too, back then. My mother must remember that night as well. Maybe, for countless nights after, she relived that moment in her dreams, crying out in her sleep, “Run!”

The dreams always stopped at the moment the knife struck, blood splattering and staining everything.

My father had become a bloodied mess, collapsed before me and my mom. He was barely alive, but still managed to lift his head, gasping weakly, “Run… Tingting… run…”

Mom’s scream shattered the night, and she scooped me up, running into the cold, dark night.

That nightmare, buried deep in my memory, had never really left. Its origin… it all started because of a “friendship.”

Back then, my parents had just moved to the city to make a living. They were strangers to the place, full of hope for a better life, dreaming of giving me a stable future. My father worked hard during the day and often went out at night to meet people. His philosophy was simple—“The more friends, the more opportunities.”

He always said with confidence, “Just wait, Tingting. One day, your dad will run a business and be the boss. You’ll be a young lady!”

That was when he met the man with the buzz cut. That day, my dad proudly brought him home, holding my hand and saying, “Quick, call him ‘Uncle’! This is someone important to our family—he’s going to help us get rich!”

According to my dad, the buzz-cut man had a story. In his prime, he spent money freely; when he was down on his luck, he’d scrounge for leftover food at restaurants. But he never gave up. He’d raised enough money to make a comeback, and he saw my dad as hardworking and reliable, offering to take him on as an apprentice.

“Such a great opportunity—your dad couldn’t pass it up,” my dad said, thrilled. He even cooked dinner himself to entertain the man. But something about him unsettled me. The way he looked at me was like how I looked at the chicken leg in my bowl.

After dinner, they drank late into the night. Just as I was about to drift off, the buzz-cut man suddenly appeared from the kitchen, holding a knife.

The smile still lingered on his face, but the next moment, he swung the knife at my father.

My dad was a strong man, but the surprise attack caught him completely off guard. In just a few moves, the man knocked him to the ground, blood pouring out.

The sounds of smashing and shouting from outside woke my mom. She rushed to the bedroom door and froze, seeing the chaos. In a daze, she quickly snapped into action, scooping me up and running out of the house.

We sprinted for two blocks before she ran into someone she knew. She handed me to them, urgently telling them to call the police before turning back and rushing back into the house to save my father.

My mom had been lucky. I had been lucky, too.

By the time she got back, the man with the buzz cut was already gone. My dad’s body lay lifeless on the floor, blood pooling around him, staining the entire room.

Later, the man was caught. In court, his explanation for the murder was stomach-turning. He’d never truly risen again—he was just spinning lies. He’d targeted my dad after hearing him brag at the construction site about his beautiful, devoted wife and their lovely daughter.

He admitted it—he was jealous. He envied the smile on my dad’s face. How could a man who worked such backbreaking, dirty jobs be so much happier than him? That jealousy drove him to destroy everything.

He wanted to kill our entire family. He was the real mei corpse, draining the life from my mom. But Mom survived. She fought through the darkness, clinging to the belief that she had to raise me.

As I thought back to how she had acted around Li Fei in the car, and how she’d rushed toward me earlier, I realized something—she was a mei corpse, yes. But she was still my mom.

In her mind, she was terrified I would be hurt again. She wasn’t attacking me—she was trying to protect me. Even though her life had been cursed and twisted by evil, she was still the woman who had once rushed into the cold night to save me.

Grandpa’s voice was low, but firm. “mei corpses must be burned. Girl, don’t hesitate. Think of it as a cremation. Your mom died a long time ago. What’s left is just an evil obsession wearing her face.”

He spoke as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a fire starter, flicking it with a practiced motion. The flame ignited with a soft hiss. His gaze held a trace of pity, but his movements were decisive—as if he had long grown accustomed to these painful separations.

I lunged forward, positioning myself in front of my mom, shaking my head as my voice caught in my throat. “Grandpa, you saved me, and I’m grateful. But she’s not a mei corpse. She’s my mom!”

Grandpa frowned, his expression hardening. He motioned for Li Fei. “Take her away! Whether it’s the living or the dead, obsession is the real danger. If she can’t bear it, I’ll be the villain. Let her hate me, but my job is to save lives.”

Li Fei hesitated, clearly torn, but after a long moment, he moved toward me, trying to pull me away. His voice was gentle but insistent. “Tingting, listen to my grandpa. He understands this. If we don’t destroy the mei corpse, it will hurt people sooner or later. Do you really want your mom to turn into a full-fledged monster?”

“She’s not a monster!” I shook my head, tears blurring my vision. “She’s not! Please, listen to me—I can prove she’s still my mom!”

Grandpa stopped, narrowing his eyes. “Prove it.”

“You saw the meat in the car, right? The mei corpse forced her to eat it, but she threw it up. She didn’t want to become a real mei corpse! She came to find me, not to hurt me, but to protect me! Please… believe me…” My voice cracked, almost pleading.

Grandpa’s gaze flickered, a moment of doubt creeping into his stern expression. Li Fei looked down, deep in thought, before hesitating. “It seems… maybe you’re right. But how can you prove she won’t hurt you?”

I took a deep breath, gathering every ounce of courage I had. I walked slowly to my mom’s side, carefully pulling the red thread that bound her. I extended my arm toward her mouth, my voice trembling but steady. “Mom, if you’re really still here, show them.”

Li Fei and Grandpa held their breath, stepping forward cautiously, ready to stop me at any moment.

But my mom didn’t bite. She simply lifted her chin stiffly, her cold skin brushing against my arm. Then, with slow, jerky movements, she wrapped her stiff arms around me.

I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I threw myself into her arms and broke down, sobbing uncontrollably. “Mom… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you…”

Grandpa stood off to the side, silent for a long moment, before releasing a deep, weary sigh. His voice was heavy as he spoke, every word landing like a stone in my chest. “Girl, in all my years, I’ve never encountered something like this. But I need to warn you—while she might not harm you now, her obsession is tied to you. As long as she remains a mei corpse, staying close to you will eventually drain your life force. And when that happens, it will cost you your life.”

I wiped my tears and looked up at him, my gaze resolute. “Then tell me how I can help her.”

Grandpa fell silent for a while, as if weighing his words. Then, slowly, he said, “If you truly want to help her pass on, you’ll need to help her let go of her obsession. There is a way—something I’ve read about, though I’ve never tried it myself. It might work.”

His voice dropped lower, almost to a whisper. “Living blood, the tears of the dead, and the sorrows of earthly love.”

He had never imagined that the ancient rituals recorded in those dusty old texts would one day be used in reality. And I never thought I’d see my mom shed actual tears.

Her tears were cold, almost unnaturally so. I caught them gently with my fingertips, cradling them like they were the most precious thing in the world. Then, taking a deep breath, I sliced my finger open and let my blood mix with her tears.

Grandpa took my hand, using the mixture of blood and tears to trace marks on both my forehead and hers. He chanted softly under his breath in a language I couldn’t understand. The strange, ancient words felt heavy in the air, and as they resonated, a burning sensation spread through my chest. It was as if something powerful was awakening inside me.

Suddenly, tiny specks of light began to rise from our bodies, drifting upward and gathering in the air. Slowly, they merged and formed a hazy, shimmering image.

“This,” Grandpa said with a heavy sigh, “is her obsession. Once it’s fulfilled, she’ll finally be able to let go and rest in peace.”

I looked up, and the scene unfolded before me—a vision of our old home.

That familiar, shabby little house was the one my mom had spent ten years saving for. I could still remember the pride in her voice when she said, “With this house, no matter what happens, you’ll always have a place to come back to.”

The vision was bathed in warm sunlight streaming through the windows. My mom sat by the window, knitting, her face softened by a tender smile. Every year, she’d start early, making sweaters for me, always letting me choose the designs I liked. This year, I had asked her to knit 3 words: “Love you, Mom.” She’d been so happy when I told her, working on it with even more enthusiasm.

But the vision shifted suddenly, and the warmth was gone.

She clutched her chest and collapsed to the floor. Her frail body writhed briefly before falling still.

I watched the scene play out, my heart gripped with unbearable pain. Why wasn’t I there for her? She had always been there for me—making midnight snacks, comforting me through the stress of exams, even eagerly prying into my college relationship. Yet, when she needed me most, I wasn’t there.

In the vision, she curled up on the floor, her trembling hand reaching for the phone that had fallen. Her fingers, worn and calloused, stretched painfully toward it. At last, she managed to touch the phone, but at that exact moment, I had sent her a voice message.

“Mom! I’ve decided to volunteer as a teacher in a rural area. I thought about it a lot, and I know you’ll support me, right? If I sign up, I’ll leave in two months. It’ll be so cold there, so I probably won’t get to see you much. Before I go, let’s take a trip together, okay? We’ll take lots of photos—what do you think?”

Her finger twitched slightly, likely out of reflex, and she tapped to play the message. Tears slipped from the corners of her eyes, but then her hand went still. Her body quieted, and the room fell into silence.

The image froze on her face. The anguish had faded, replaced by a deep, lingering regret.

But then, something miraculous happened. The vision of my mom stirred. She slowly sat up, looking around with wide, confused eyes, like a newborn seeing the world for the first time. Wordlessly, she picked up the half-finished sweater, setting it carefully on the table. Then, she grabbed the phone and played my message again. The hollowness in her gaze softened, and the gentle warmth I knew so well began to return.

Her voice was hoarse but steady as she spoke, “Okay. I’ll come see you. We can drive there. I’ll be your driver. Tingting, make sure you take some beautiful photos of me, alright?”

She put the phone down, returned to her seat, and resumed her knitting. In the vision, she worked with an intensity that felt almost desperate, like she was racing against time. The sweater she finished was left in the car, despite the sweltering heat. She must have worked day and night on it, knowing it would be her last gift to me.

On the front, the sweater bore the words, “Love you, Mom.” But on the back, she had secretly added four more words: “I love you, too.”

Grandpa sighed beside me. “Her obsession,” he said, “is to complete this journey with you.”

The sky had already grown dark. If we went to see the sea of flowers now, we’d only catch the starlight. Grandpa placed a firm hand on my shoulder. “Stay here tonight,” he said. Then, with a swift kick to Li Fei, he barked, “And you! Don’t even think about running off. You’re keeping watch tonight!”

Even though Grandpa believed my mom’s spirit still inhabited her body, he wasn’t taking any chances. He set up four beds in the yard, making sure I wouldn’t be alone with her.

The summer night was alive with the symphony of insects, their chorus rising and falling in the still air. Starlight spilled across the sky, draping the world in a soft, ethereal glow. I held my mom’s hand—cold yet tender—and a flood of childhood memories surfaced. Back then, before heading into town, my parents would often take me out to the courtyard in the countryside to gaze at a sky just like this.

The next morning, we set off for the sea of flowers. I made sure to wear the sweater she had knitted for me. When Li Fei saw me, he paused mid-step, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. “You’re not seriously wearing that in this heat, are you?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern. Then, almost immediately, his expression softened, and he chuckled wryly. “Never mind. I get it. This is her only chance to see you in it.”

We followed the path toward the riverbank Li Fei had described. Just as he’d promised, the water was crystal clear, cool and inviting, barely brushing our ankles as it flowed over smooth stones. The banks were a painter’s palette, bursting with wildflowers in vivid shades of red, yellow, and violet. My mom stood amidst the blooms, her face radiant with quiet awe. For a moment, she seemed like a child seeing the world for the first time.

I held her hand tightly and led her deeper into the sea of flowers. Li Fei trailed behind, camera in hand, capturing every moment. She moved like a fragile marionette, her motions stiff and awkward, but she still tried her best to mimic the poses I showed her. I laughed so hard my cheeks ached, as though I could pour all the happiness of a lifetime into this single day, storing it in the camera’s memory forever.

As the evening breeze swept in, cooling the warmth of the day, we lay side by side in the flowers. I showed her the photos we’d taken, flipping through them one by one. Her stiff posture began to soften, her head eventually leaning gently against my shoulder.

I turned to look at her. Her eyes were closed, her face serene, a faint smile gracing her lips. This time, she was truly asleep—forever. She would never wake again.

Leaning close, I whispered into her ear, my voice barely audible, “Love you, Mom.”

Two months later, I carried her ashes with me to the remote mountain village where I had begun teaching. The children there were mesmerized by the sweater I wore, their eyes sparkling with curiosity.

I smiled and said to them, “From now on, I’m your school’s ‘Mom.’ Do you know what to say when you see me?”

They grinned, their voices ringing out in unison, brimming with laughter and warmth: “Love you, Mom!”