Grace Cooper turned to look at Eric Bennett. The tenderness that used to be in her eyes was gone, replaced by a deep, unfathomable lake—so dark it was unsettling. She said, “What’s the point.”

Eric Bennett said, “Wait for me a moment, hang in there.” Something occurred to him, and he ran into the house.

Sitting in the living room, Adam Grant saw Eric Bennett rushing by and asked in confusion what was going on, but Eric Bennett ignored him and headed straight for the kitchen.

In the kitchen, he grabbed a few pieces of firewood, quickly lit them with a flint, and then dashed back outside.

In just a few minutes, it felt as if centuries had passed. Eric Bennett’s hands were trembling as he lit the fire—he was afraid, afraid that when he returned to the well, there would be nothing left but an empty, yawning hole.

Fortunately, when he came back with the torch, Grace Cooper was still sitting there.

“I’m back,” Eric Bennett panted. “In a moment, I’ll come over and throw the fire into the well. Grab my hand… don’t let go.”

Grace Cooper: “Aren’t you afraid?”

Eric Bennett was taken aback. “Afraid of what?”

Grace Cooper said, “Of course, afraid of dying.”

Eric Bennett smiled. “Who isn’t afraid of death? But there are always things scarier than death.” Although he was still confused about this world, he could feel that Grace Cooper had saved him several times. Without Grace Cooper, he might have been one of those mangled corpses on the very first night.

“All right, I’m coming over now.” Eric Bennett was worried that if he delayed any longer, Grace Cooper would run out of strength. He slowly moved his feet and walked over to her.

Once he was close enough, he grabbed Grace Cooper’s hand and threw the torch into the mass of writhing hair.

“Ah—” A piercing shriek, a woman’s voice, echoed from the well. The hair caught fire and writhed violently. In a daze, Eric Bennett actually saw a pale face in the well. It was only for a split second, but Eric Bennett recognized it as the face he’d seen in the house before—the female ghost who had imitated Grace Cooper’s voice that night.

“Run!!” As soon as the hair around Grace Cooper’s foot snapped, Eric Bennett grabbed her and started running.

Grace Cooper didn’t resist, letting Eric Bennett pull her along. The two of them dashed into the house, gasping for breath.

“What happened?” Everyone inside looked shocked.

“There’s something in the well…” Eric Bennett panted. “Everyone, stay away from the well. Baijie was almost pulled in just now.” After he finished, he turned to look at Baijie and asked if she was hurt.

“No,” Grace Cooper said. “I’m fine.”

Hearing this, Eric Bennett glanced at her feet and saw a ring of blood-red marks around Grace Cooper’s ankle, with blood still slowly dripping down. He said, “You call that fine? Sit down, I’ll bandage you up.”

It was only then that Grace Cooper seemed to realize she was injured. She tilted her head, but in the end, listened to Eric Bennett and obediently sat down on a chair.

Eric Bennett found some medicine in the house, knelt on one knee in front of Grace Cooper, placed her foot on his knee, and began to tend to her wound. His movements were gentle and careful, as if he was afraid of hurting her.

“Are you always this careful with girls?” Grace Cooper suddenly asked.

“What does that have to do with being a girl?” Eric Bennett replied casually. “Even if you were a guy, would I just be rough with you?”

Grace Cooper: “Hmm…”

Eric Bennett joked, “You’re not actually a guy, are you? So tall, and your chest is so flat.” But Grace Cooper really was beautiful—at least, Eric Bennett didn’t believe there was a man in the world who looked like that.

“Yeah,” Grace Cooper sighed. “My chest isn’t even as big as yours.”

Eric Bennett: “…”

Grace Cooper added, “And my butt isn’t as perky as yours, either.”

Eric Bennett: “…Why do you talk so much?”

Grace Cooper giggled.

After Eric Bennett finished treating Grace Cooper’s wound, he told Adam Grant and the others what had just happened. The others took it fairly well, but Adam Grant and Little Scott both looked grim, clearly reminded of what the old man had told them about the final step in making a coffin—filling the well.

What was the connection between coffins and wells? Was it a custom unique to this village, or a trap set by that carpenter?

Grace Cooper seemed to know what Adam Grant was thinking and smiled. “Don’t overthink it. Just do what needs to be done. Fate is already set.”

Adam Grant sighed, “We’re planning to visit the temple tonight. Do you want to come?”

“Me?” Grace Cooper said, “My foot’s hurt, I can’t walk. Qiushi, you’ll have to carry me.”

Eric Bennett nodded.

Little Scott chimed in, “How can you not walk with such a minor injury?”

Grace Cooper didn’t get angry at this. She just smiled sweetly and said, “Sister, please be more understanding. I was pampered at home, so of course I’m a bit spoiled when I’m out.”

Little Scott said, “You just keep taking advantage of Eric Bennett’s good temper. In this world behind the door, no one knows who anyone really is—why should we indulge you?”