It wasn’t clear who started the rumor.

At night, when walking along the narrow path in Fuan Community, people said you should never turn to look at the wooden bridge on the right.

But Fang Chen didn’t just look—he planned to cross it.

“Your order is about to time out. Please process it promptly,” his phone blared, the reminder relentless.

Squinting, he glanced around.

If he doubled back to the main road, he’d definitely be late.

Fang Chen worked as a courier, with a few side jobs now and then. This time, his client was a woman who’d specifically instructed him to deliver an important letter on time.

He instinctively patted his pocket, feeling the faint bulge of the envelope and something extra tucked inside.

It struck him as odd that, in such a digital age, someone would rely on a letter for something urgent. But with the deadline closing in and the thought of a penalty fee looming, he parked his moped, took a deep breath, and stepped onto the wooden bridge.

A cold gust swept through, making him shiver.

He recalled a recent news story.

Apparently, there’d been a gang fight nearby, and by the time the police arrived, everyone had vanished, leaving behind only scorched ground.

“Strange times we’re living in,” he thought, suddenly halting as something felt wrong.

How could this bridge…be so long?

And was the fog always this thick at night?

Snapping back to his surroundings, he noticed a heavy mist now blanketing the area. The trees on either side, which should’ve been thick with leaves, had disappeared.

Around him lay an endless abyss, with a lone moon hanging high above, casting a ghostly light over the desolate landscape. Only the rickety wooden bridge stretched into the distance, seemingly endless.

“This isn’t good,” Fang Chen muttered, his instincts flaring. Could this be that fabled “Bridge of No Return”? Was he about to become a ghost while delivering a letter?

He didn’t believe in ghosts, but the scene defied logic, stirring an eerie feeling in him.

He turned to run, but the moment he spun around—

“Ah!”

A ghastly face flashed before his eyes, jolting him to the core.

He collided with something solid.

The other person yelped, stumbling back and falling.

It was…a girl?

And on this bridge, no less. Fang Chen blurted out, “Lady Meng?”

The girl clutched her chest, startled. “How did you know my nickname?”

Both of them were in shock.

Fang Chen prided himself on his keen senses, so he was baffled that someone could sneak up on him undetected.

“Were you following me?” he demanded.

“No, I wasn’t! Don’t just assume!” she protested, standing and rubbing her sore spot. “I saw you standing there like a statue and thought I’d come closer for a look…”

Her voice trailed off, and she forced an awkward smile.

The girl introduced herself as Meng Qiyan. With shoulder-length hair and sportswear, she looked barely twenty and seemed genuinely uneasy.

Relaxing a bit, Fang Chen introduced himself and explained the strange situation.

Meng Qiyan frowned. “Same here.”

She explained that she’d been working late and had taken a shortcut home. But then, the fog had thickened, and she saw Fang Chen standing alone up ahead.

“Did you also walk onto a bridge?” Fang Chen asked.

“No, but I was about to. There’s a footbridge on my shortcut, but…” she gestured at the ground, “it doesn’t look like this.”

As they spoke, the fog began to thin.

Ahead, they could make out dimly-lit courtyards, while behind them stretched an endless void.

Neither view looked familiar.

It was as if this bridge had transported them to a strange, unfamiliar world.

Just as Fang Chen was about to speak, his breath fogged up, a plume of white in the air.

The chill wasn’t just in the air—it was sinking into his bones.

In the brief time they’d been standing, the temperature had plummeted. They realized that if they didn’t keep moving, they’d freeze before the fog cleared.

It felt like an unspoken force urging them forward.

Fang Chen checked his phone—no signal.

Meng Qiyan, shivering, rubbed her hands together. “If it weren’t for this freezing cold, I’d just stay put.”

But with the temperature dropping, standing still wasn’t an option.

With urgency pressing down on him, Fang Chen took the lead. “Let’s go.”

As they ventured deeper, the bridge behind them disappeared, while the houses grew closer.

Weeds choked the pathway, and a few run-down houses loomed in the distance. One of them glowed faintly, as if inviting them in.

Approaching the door, Fang Chen noticed it was unlocked, and faint voices could be heard from within.

He knocked three times before pushing the door open.

The air grew still as several cautious eyes turned his way.

It was a spacious hall with a large round wooden table in the center. Including Fang Chen and Meng Qiyan, there were eight people inside.

Each person stayed in their own corner, keeping a wary distance from the others, as if shielded by invisible walls. The tension was palpable.

No one spoke first.

A dim light barely illuminated the first floor, while the stairs leading upward disappeared into shadow, like an endless chasm.

The flickering light seemed to pulse, breathing with the shadows.

Despite the mutual distrust, none of them dared to venture to the second floor alone.

After a pause, a burly man with a beard gestured for them to come in. “Let’s talk inside.”

Surveying the room, Fang Chen found a spot near the window, with Meng Qiyan quickly following.

As soon as he settled, a young woman with a high ponytail leaned over, whispering, “Did you end up here by accident too?”

Fang Chen nodded. “What about you?”

“Yeah, same story for everyone here,” she replied.

“Maybe we should introduce ourselves?” suggested a young man in glasses, who had been watching Fang Chen intently since he walked in.

“We… we don’t mind.” A soft voice responded from a couple huddled together in the farthest corner, barely noticeable.

“Let’s wait a bit longer. There could be others still out there,” said a laid-back young man leaning against the wall, flicking open a folding fan, exuding an air of indifference that didn’t match the tense atmosphere.

Silence settled again, with the wind rattling the old wooden windows. Fang Chen had an eerie sense that someone was pounding on the walls.