He didn’t wait for William Sherman to answer. Instead, he furrowed his brows, his eyes flickering for a moment before feigning confusion. With a hint of probing curiosity, he asked, “That’s strange, are you someone with a weak fate? Why do you always run into these kinds of things?”

“What happened?” William Sherman clearly didn’t want to dwell on this question and immediately shifted his attention.

“Oh, I took a look,” Logan Sullivan swallowed his doubts and didn’t press further, simply saying, “We’ll probably have to find somewhere to spend the night. The road ahead is blocked—I suspect it’s because of an avalanche.”

As he spoke, he reached out to pull the car door open, but his hand was so numb from the cold that he could barely use any strength. He tried twice before finally managing to open it.

William Sherman yanked the door open: “Get in first and warm up.”

The heater inside the car was so stuffy that Logan Sullivan felt a bit dizzy. He frowned and pressed his temples, then took a piece of chocolate handed to him by the girl. “This side of the highway has been open for seven or eight years now. It’s a pretty niche self-driving route and was even featured in a travel magazine. I remember there are a few natural villages at the foot of the mountain. Since tourists often come by, the village homestays offer basic accommodation. But the road ahead is impassable now. Down the mountain, it’s all a vast expanse of white—you can’t see anything. With binoculars, I could barely make out a few big trees crushed under the snow, only the branches sticking out. I suspect there’s been an avalanche up ahead…”

The bespectacled student asked cautiously, “Then those people who just passed by—could they be villagers who died in the avalanche? I heard from the elders that during the Tangshan earthquake, some people also saw ghostly soldiers passing through.”

Logan Sullivan shook his head, first taking out his phone. He made a call to someone, exchanged a few brief pleasantries, and then inquired about the local geological disaster monitoring situation. Whatever the person on the other end told him, Logan Sullivan’s frown grew deeper and deeper, until his brows were almost knotted together.

“Alright, thank you, thank you. It’s fine, we can manage for one night… Mm, I know what to do.” After hanging up, Logan Sullivan said, “Now we’re in trouble.”

“It really was an avalanche?”

“Yeah,” Logan Sullivan replied. “It just made the news tonight—a major natural disaster. They say all the villages below have been buried. The rescue teams are trying to save people, but as things stand, there’s basically no hope for survivors.”

The two young students in the car fell silent at the same time.

After a while, the class monitor asked, “Then… where will we stay? In the car? Can the heater run all night? What if we run out of gas?”

“We have enough gas, but since there’s just been an avalanche, it’s not safe to stay here overnight. We need to move to higher ground. Don’t be scared—just follow me. There’s a small cabin on the mountaintop. I’m not sure what it’s for, but I saw it through the binoculars. There’s no one inside, but at least it has a roof,” Logan Sullivan said, feeling a bit warmer. He buttoned up his coat and got out of the car, opened the trunk, pulled out a big bag of food, and grabbed a few pieces of outdoor thermal clothing, tossing them to the others. “Put on the clothes, eat something, and take whatever you can’t finish with you. I’ve told the others to come over too. In a bit, we’ll carry the sleeping bags and tents. The girls just need to carry the food—I’ll take your sleeping bag for you.”

The others received Logan Sullivan’s call and quickly got ready and hurried over. William Sherman, always attentive, noticed that among the group… there seemed to be one extra person.

That person followed at the end of the line, never making a sound. Judging by the figure, it was probably a woman, but her clothes were so thick that her head and face were completely covered, making it hard for William Sherman to tell.

She was very strange. Maybe she was frozen stiff, but her movements always had an odd, indescribable awkwardness.

Holly Harlow would occasionally fall to the back and talk to her, but she would only nod or shake her head. William Sherman also noticed that whenever she moved her head, her steps would involuntarily stop. Only after she finished shaking her head would she slowly start walking again, as if only one part of her body could move at a time.

Just as he was puzzling over this, a hand suddenly reached over, draping across his shoulders, the back of the hand pressing against his face.

William Sherman’s skin was already numb from the cold, and it took a moment for sensation to return. He froze on the spot, unable to dodge or accept it. Fortunately, Logan Sullivan only touched him briefly before quickly moving his hand away. “Why are you so afraid of the cold?”

William Sherman: “I’m not, I’m not cold.”

“Not cold? Your lips are blue.” Logan Sullivan cut him off, took off the jacket he’d just put on, and wrapped it around William Sherman without giving him a chance to refuse.

William Sherman was startled and grabbed Logan Sullivan’s hand. “What are you doing? You said yourself, catching a chill here is no joke!”

“I’m wearing thermal underwear for outdoor use.” Logan Sullivan pulled his shirt collar open a bit. “Even if we stayed at a villager’s house down the mountain, there wouldn’t be any heating. I came prepared. Not like you guys, rushing in so recklessly. Hurry up and put it on!”

William Sherman still refused.

Logan Sullivan softened his tone. “Come on, don’t make people worry.”

William Sherman really couldn’t stand that tone and look—he almost fled in embarrassment.

Logan Sullivan had already forced the jacket onto him and strode to the back. “Watch your step, hold onto each other, don’t let go. Xiao Guo, carry your Sister Holly’s luggage over here. Can’t you use your eyes? What are they for, just decoration?”

Director Zhao’s thunderous temper still lingered. Charles Gray shrank his neck, slunk to the back of the line, and quietly took Holly Harlow’s luggage.

William Sherman watched his back for a moment, his hand lingering where Logan Sullivan’s warmth remained, rubbing it before zipping up the jacket. Then he pressed the small pendant against his collarbone—he felt as if it was faintly radiating heat, standing out in the icy world.

So faint, yet so comforting.

They walked for nearly half an hour before they saw the small cabin Logan Sullivan had mentioned. It took another half hour to climb up to it.

Strictly speaking, the cabin was built of stone, with a wooden frame and a roof covered in some kind of cowhide—windproof and sturdy enough not to collapse under the snow.

The cabin was surrounded by a small yard, enclosed by a dilapidated fence, almost buried in snow.

It looked old and lonely, standing alone atop the mountain, unique and eerily quiet.

Just as Logan Sullivan reached out to push open the small wooden gate in the fence, Darrin Grant, who had been hiding in Red Envelope, suddenly leapt out. Before anyone could wonder where this cat had come from, it let out a sharp cry, its fur standing on end.

Logan Sullivan quickly scooped up the big cat, smoothing its fur and quietly asking, “What’s wrong?”

Darrin Grant’s eyes were fixed intently on the snow-buried yard. A voice came from behind.

Zach Warren said softly, almost with a sigh, “Director Zhao, Darrin Grant wants to tell you that something is buried in this yard.”

Chapter 30: The Mountain and River Awl …

Zach Warren’s voice was actually quite pleasant. If she were alive, she might have studied vocal music or even participated in something like The Voice of XX. But perhaps because she was now a ghost, her voice had become stale and distorted. Coupled with her unique, gentle tone, it always gave people goosebumps and sent a chill down their spines—truly unsettling.

She spoke without warning, startling everyone into silence.

The four students with William Sherman all turned their eyes to her at once. Zach Warren, unable to move easily, couldn’t dodge and had to calmly accept everyone’s gaze.

Logan Sullivan rubbed the hand holding the flashlight against his body, feeling his palm warm up a bit. “You all wait here. I’ll go in and take a look.”

With that, he boldly pushed the door open and went in. William Sherman didn’t hesitate for a second and immediately followed.

The ground was frozen solid, uneven underfoot. Logan Sullivan slowed his pace, circling the small yard. The black cat’s eyes glowed like two little lanterns in the dark. Suddenly, it kicked off from Logan Sullivan’s arms, struggled free, and darted to a corner. It raised its chubby paw and started frantically digging at a small mound.

Logan Sullivan quickly crouched down, grabbed the cat by the scruff, and picked it up. He wiped Darrin Grant’s front paws with his sleeve, then, by the light of the flashlight, reached out to brush away the dirt that Darrin Grant had already loosened.

First, he saw a layer of ivory-white material. Logan Sullivan thought for a moment, then rummaged through the luggage for a small shovel. He dug and chipped away at the area, painstakingly excavating a bit deeper… until he saw a slightly flattened forehead and half of a hollow eye socket. Only then did Logan Sullivan realize he had uncovered half a skull.

William Sherman, who had been silently watching him dig, shifted his gaze, scanning every mound in the yard. Suddenly, a chilling thought struck him—they were probably standing right on top of a field of human bones.