My name is Lin Xiaoyu. I’m a high school student who can replay my dreams over and over like high-definition movies. I didn’t realize something was wrong until I pointed at an ancient tree on Mist Mountain, one I’d never seen before, and said, “It has the character ‘zao’ carved into it.” Stranger still was the voice that always called out, “Don’t look back,” in my red-and-black nightmares. At first, it made me break out in a cold sweat with fear. Now, when I turn over at midnight, I find myself unconsciously nodding toward the fog before going back to sleep.
