Wang Haoyu was trapped in the city's morning rush hour when he received the news that his grandma was critically ill. Outside the car window, there was an endless steel jungle and hurried crowds. His father's anxious voice on the phone was like a bolt of lightning, instantly pulling him back to the distant Yunliang Village. It was his hometown after many years of absence. In his memory, the village was surrounded by green mountains, with morning mist curling up, and it was as peaceful as a paradise. But when he arrived at the village entrance in the evening, the sight before him made his hair stand on end.
The thick, ink-like white mist was like an airtight curtain, tightly wrapping the entire village. There was a biting chill in the mist, and every time I took a breath, it felt like ice particles were scraping across my throat. Wang Haoyu walked into the village, not meeting anyone along the way. The familiar outlines of the houses in the past were looming in the strange mist, as if they would disappear at any time.
