Linbiangui Village-Infinite Streaming Chapter 1

Panshan Nightmare

“Ugh… ugh…”

Six times! During this entire Panshan (Winding Road) journey, which lasted just over two hours, the Elder Sister next to Chen Jin had vomited a full six times.

The windows of the old-fashioned minibus were heavily rusted, the seams jammed shut, and the cabin was airtight. The leather seats exuded the stench of years of human oil and decay, mixed with the sour smell of vomit. Catalyzed by the hot breaths of the dozen or so passengers, the air inside the cabin swelled and fermented, making it suffocating.

Chen Jin was traveling alone to Mengle Village for research work. The unfamiliar region and customs, coupled with the pressure of his first solo project, had kept his nerves taut, leaving him sleepless for days before the trip.

Strangely, this rattling bus miraculously became a soothing cradle, lulling him into a deep, anxious sleep.

The minibus suddenly hit a severe bump, and Chen Jin’s forehead struck the edge of the window hard. Just as he was about to raise his hand to rub the sore spot, he noticed that the entire window glass was covered in a sticky, yellowish-brown film of grease. The plastic wind chime hanging on the rearview mirror was also covered in spiderwebs, now tightly bound.

The cabin seemed to have been muted, utterly silent. After rounding the eighteenth bend, the vehicle entered a tunnel like a buried coffin, and the whole world went dark.

Just as Chen Jin’s eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, a dim, yellowish emergency light suddenly flickered on inside the vehicle. A rustling sound came from above. Following the noise, brown, fish-roe-like objects were slowly squeezing out of the air vent, carrying the smell of some kind of decaying fat that assaulted his senses.

A thick, unknown fog seeped in through the window cracks, then crawled up the seats like a living thing. Chen Jin realized the abnormality. He dug his fingernails deep into his palm to maintain composure, trying to use the sharp pain to stay awake, but he only felt a chill down his spine.

Another turn, and Chen Jin was thrown by inertia into the neighboring seat. A metal button on the sleeve of the person next to him scraped his arm, leaving three bloody scratches after a brief sting. Chen Jin instinctively pulled his arm back. As he gripped his injured elbow and raised his hand to check the wound, a gentle, low male voice came from behind him:

“Don’t look back.”

It was a stranger, yet the voice was unexpectedly reassuring.

Then, a cold hand gripped his like rusty iron tongs. Chen Jin’s pupils behind his glasses contracted sharply; he was completely immobilized. A scent of mint invaded from the back of his neck, and their breaths intertwined in the small space, instantly making him feel refreshed.

Who?!

The person behind him remained silent, merely using a fingertip to dab Chen Jin’s oozing blood and sketch a slightly childish turtle on the grease-covered windowpane with a few strokes.

As the final stroke fell, Chen Jin distinctly saw two identical faces reflected in the greasy glass—both were Chen Jin’s face.

One is me, who is the other one…

Before he could turn around, the entire bus rushed out of the tunnel and slid directly into the void at the edge of a cliff. The surroundings plunged into boundless darkness, and his life, from childhood to the present, played out in his mind like a revolving lantern.

The next second, a strange sound suddenly echoed inside Chen Jin’s skull, “Since you’ve come, you must figure things out before you can leave.” The voice was as rough as gravel, completely different from the previous one, sending a chill of dread up from his feet.

As soon as the voice faded, Chen Jin abruptly woke up—it was a nightmare.

The vehicle was still driving normally, the sun was shining brightly outside the window, and everything from moments ago was nothing but illusion.

The Elder Sister next to him was gone, replaced at some point by a young man who was now asleep with headphones on.

The man was exceptionally handsome, with a high nose bridge like a carefully sculpted ridge, and sharp, defined features as exquisite as a Greek sculpture. His skin, pale as glaze, showed faint blue veins. In the crowded and messy cabin, he looked like a white peacock that had mistakenly wandered into a swamp.

The man’s eyelashes fluttered, and he suddenly opened his eyes. Chen Jin hastily withdrew his gaze, looking forward with deliberate focus.

The soft area in front of the front seats was piled high with luggage. Two local men were sitting backward on the outer edge, their bodies swaying left and right with the winding movement of the bus. Due to the continuous curves, the men were currently hanging plastic bags and vomiting.

The mint fragrance from the dream was replaced by the sour stench of various filth. Chen Jin’s stomach began to churn. The seatbelt tightened across his chest, his brain felt heavy as if filled with cement, and a throbbing, buzzing noise drummed in his ears.

Another sharp turn, and Chen Jin felt his stomach violently contract. Undigested breakfast, mixed with bile, rushed up his esophagus. The messy filth spread down the fabric of Chen Jin’s gray shirt, and stray splashes landed on his neighbor.

Click. The other person unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up. Once standing, he was unusually tall, and the shadow he cast almost completely enveloped Chen Jin.

“What is wrong with you?” A questioning voice came, the low tone produced by the friction in his throat sounding like sparks, suggesting he was not an easy person to deal with.

Chen Jin looked up. The grim expression on the man’s handsome face was clearly visible. He braced one hand on the back of the seat in front, and the leather backrest let out a strained groan, as if he might grab Chen Jin’s collar and punch him the next second.

Chen Jin looked up, intending to apologize, but the man’s actions drew frequent side glances from the surrounding passengers. His aggressive attitude sparked a wave of irritation in Chen Jin.

Was it necessary to make such a public spectacle?

Chen Jin turned his head, his face sinking, and bit down on his back molars, stiffly uttering one word at a time: “I’m sorry.”

The sound was barely audible.

He apologized with his mouth, but his expression and demeanor suggested a lack of sincerity. A normal person would likely find him insincere, and a conflict seemed highly probable.

A suffocating silence descended, and the air in the bus was nearly squeezed dry by the quiet stillness. The man didn’t move for a long time. Chen Jin had to look up, and to his surprise, he found the man looking somewhat flustered, his eyes darting to the side. He mumbled, “It’s nothing,” and sat back down.

In a spot no one noticed, the man’s ear tips were slightly red.

This was an unexpected outcome.

Chen Jin didn’t want trouble. He had assumed the man would be tough, but he retreated, leaving Chen Jin feeling awkward and embarrassed, now left to deal with the guilt of having accidentally injured someone.

To make matters worse, he didn’t know how to clean up the mess all over his body. Chen Jin frantically searched his bag, hoping to find something useful to salvage the situation, but luck was not on his side; he didn’t even have a clean piece of paper.

A pack of wet wipes was silently handed over from the side—it was the volatile man.

Chen Jin was highly guarded. The unexpected kindness from a stranger came too suddenly, filling him only with alarm, not gratitude.

With a plop, a drop of filth fell from his hand. Now, no matter how hesitant Chen Jin was, he had no choice but to accept them, otherwise, he couldn’t clean up the immediate mess.

Before the word “thank you” could leave his lips, the man’s teasing voice came: “250 yuan a pack.”

The voice was low, audible almost only between the two of them.

Chen Jin had been played.

The stack of wet wipes felt like a branding iron scorching his palm. Chen Jin instantly broke out in a hot sweat, and fine goosebumps erupted all over his skin. He was filled with regret, realizing how foolish his momentary trust in a stranger had been.

A stone weighed heavily on Chen Jin’s heart, but he didn’t show it, merely staring straight at the man, whose eyes still held a deep amusement. Chen Jin clutched the wipes and casually tossed them back at the man. With a soft thud, the wipes landed on the man’s chest.

“Use this.” The Elder Sister in the front seat timely handed over a pack of tissues, wearing a kind and friendly smile. The sister looked like a local, her hair neatly tied back in a low ponytail with a rubber band. Her skin was dark, and her hands showed signs of labor, covered in calluses on the knuckles. She wore a light green shirt, which complemented her healthy complexion well.

Chen Jin took the tissues with both hands, his fingertips instinctively curling back two millimeters. His lips moved, and he stiffly uttered two words— “Thank you.”

Chen Jin was likely an introvert at heart. To avoid showing weakness and unnecessary social interaction, he always maintained a cold, unapproachable demeanor. The recent teasing made Chen Jin instantly raise his defenses, and his guarded attitude became even more pronounced.

However, Chen Jin knew how to be respectful toward someone slightly older than himself.

The sister in green smiled and nodded, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her silver wrist bangles jingling.

“Sister, I was just messing around with Xiao Jin! Why go to all this trouble for us?” A deep, adult male voice came, but the tone carried a hint of childish coaxing. This contradictory display blended well on the man’s handsome face, not seeming abrupt at all.

The man glanced at Chen Jin’s expression, trying to smooth things over in a comforting manner, and quickly shoved the wet wipes back into Chen Jin’s hand.

Chen Jin’s heart sank sharply. How did he know my nickname?

“It’s no trouble.” Chen Jin maintained a distant attitude toward this stranger. Every word seemed to have to crush the ice in his throat before it could escape.

With that, he tossed the wet wipes back into the man’s hand.

“Hey! Don’t be so formal!” The man forcefully pushed the wet wipes back into Chen Jin’s hand. Their hands touched, and Chen Jin felt an extreme coldness, yet he recoiled sharply as if scorched by a flame. However, the man had a subtle strength, and Chen Jin was completely unable to move.

“What are you doing?” Seeing that pulling back was futile, Chen Jin frowned and slightly relaxed his resistance. The man then added fuel to the fire by patting the back of Chen Jin’s hand, completely disregarding the filth on Chen Jin’s body. The man carried a clean scent of mint, which, like its owner, was brazenly invading Chen Jin’s personal space.

The scent seemed the same as the one in his dream, and upon closer inspection, it felt very familiar.

“You two young men have such good chemistry.” The sister in green smiled, watching their interaction, and nodded. “Are you two also here for tourism?”

The man winked at Chen Jin with an ambiguous expression, then reluctantly moved his hand away. He pulled a travel brochure insert from the side pocket of his backpack. “Yes, Sister. The folk activities in Mengle Village are quite unique.”

Folk customs—wasn’t that the focus of his research?

Chen Jin glanced over. The brochure had exaggerated colors, with garish hot pink and fluorescent green crudely pasted together to form the shape of a village. Murky, viscous high-gloss paint gathered in the creases, creating an eerie reflection. There was no design or layout between the text and images; it was clearly the result of cheap printing.

The three jagged characters, “Pig Slaughter Feast,” were emblazoned across the surface, red like a wound from a butcher’s knife. The words matched their color, hinting at the bloodshed within.

“My name is Cui Ping. I’m older than you, so you can call me Sister A Ping. If we run into each other in the village later, we can hang out.” Sister A Ping pulled out an identical flyer from her peacock feather shoulder bag.

“That sounds great, Sister A Ping. My name is Wu Zeng, and I love making friends.” Wu Zeng directed this statement at Sister A Ping, but his gaze fell on Chen Jin. He emphasized the word “love” while speaking, his tone rising slightly without realizing it.

After introducing themselves, both looked at Chen Jin simultaneously.

“Chen Jin.” Chen Jin was put on the spot and had to stiffly utter the two words.

Wu Zeng and Sister A Ping chatted happily, discussing everything under the sun. Wu Zeng was articulate and good at flattery, making Sister A Ping laugh heartily. Chen Jin found it noisy.