These questions didn't come out of nowhere - they were doubts I'd carried the entire time. Only now, after careful consideration, did I suddenly realize none of them had been properly answered yet.
I started by asking Dreaming Nun, "What exactly is your ordained name? Is it really Dreaming Nun? But who would have a nickname like that?"
Dreaming Nun froze momentarily before furrowing her brow in thought. However, she seemed to be struggling to recall anything.
"What's wrong with you? You can't have forgotten your ordained name too, can you? No wonder they sent you to the psychiatric hospital," I said.
It was another strange point - normally even institutionalized people should be discharged eventually, never like Dreaming Nun who got arrested multiple times. If Webster hadn't known her, I'd truly think she was just mentally ill.
"I don't know. I've probably been away from the mountain temple these past few years, and over time forgot my ordained name. The time in the mental institution left me quite nervous too," Dreaming Nun explained.
This explanation sounded rather far-fetched, but I reluctantly accepted it. I pressed further: "Then why are you wearing this instead of monastic robes? Don't you think it's inappropriate for a nun to dress like this?"
Dreaming Nun retorted, "What are you talking about? Clothes are just clothes. These are extraordinary times - where would I get monastic robes? I'll wear what I have, and I think I look quite good in this outfit."
A nunnery without monastic robes? Who the hell would believe that? Is this Dreaming Nun actually mentally ill or not?
As I prepared my next question, Dreaming Nun grew somewhat impatient. "There's no need to waste time on me. These questions are meaningless. Our priority now should be dealing with the evil spirits haunting the nunnery."
Since she wasn't possessed, why should I scrutinize her? What purpose would that serve?
Her dismissiveness left me momentarily speechless, but I persisted with other inquiries.
"How did you and Webster become acquainted?" I asked next.
Though slightly irritated, Dreaming Nun still answered: "Webster practices Buddhism. Some time ago he frequently visited Nien Ci Nunnery, so we gradually became familiar. Later when Webster had spiritual doubts, he came to me for guidance, and we developed a close friendship. But this was long ago - I remember Webster still had his sight then, and I was only fifteen."
Webster practices Buddhism? Yeah right, I'll believe that when pigs fly. The man's better at fortune-telling than any Buddha, and he's supposed to believe in Buddhism?
It might be plausible now, but before? Impossible. Buddhism teaches karma, which Webster fundamentally rejects - that's why he freely leaks secrets without fear of consequences, and exactly why he ended up blind.
But Dreaming Nun had no reason to lie to me. So what exactly was Webster's connection to Nianci Nunnery?
And I had this vague feeling that Webster seemed to care deeply about Dreaming Nun - enough to answer all three of my questions just to help her.
This was puzzling. Webster had a wife and children. Why would he be so concerned about a nun? Just friendship?
Could there have been... something between them in the past? Of course I didn't dare ask directly - she'd probably slap me. Besides, as a nun, even if they had been involved, would she admit it?
Just then, Antonio suddenly stood up. "What's wrong?" I asked.
He frowned, glanced at the Buddha statue, then shook his head. "Nothing."
But a minute later, he stood again. "Mr. Roger... do you feel like this Buddha statue has... a problem?"
"A problem? What kind?" I asked.
"It just... moved," Antonio said.
What the hell? The statue moved? Don't scare me - was the Buddha manifesting?
Dreaming Nun suddenly tensed. "It's not Buddha manifesting. It's her."
Her? That ghost? No way! How could a ghost dare possess a Buddha statue?
Yet before my eyes, the Buddha statue's face twisted into a bizarre, unnatural grin.
Holy shit! Not even Buddha was spared? What kind of ghost was this? No wonder no exorcist dared confront it.
"The nunnery's Buddha statue wasn't properly consecrated," Dreaming Nun explained. "It can suppress minor spirits, but against something powerful, it's just clay."
Made sense. Consecrating such a large statue would be prohibitively expensive. That's why powerful blessed items are usually small.
Suddenly, the statue raised its massive hand - bigger than half my body - and swung at me.
One hit from that and I'd be paste. I barely dodged sideways.
Its next swipe targeted Antonio. More agile, he backflipped away - smart enough not to try blocking.
Strangely, it only attacked us two, ignoring Dreaming Nun completely.
"Show yourself if you dare!" I taunted. "Enough with these theatrics!"
At this point, we needed to force the ghost to reveal itself. I wanted to see its true form - whether it was KONGQING or someone else entirely!
"Hahaha... as you wish..."
After a burst of maniacal laughter, a black shadow flashed, and the Buddha statue returned to normal. Then I felt a chilling presence behind me—a sudden cold gust.
"Did you want to see me?" A head rested on my shoulder.
I didn't dare move. My body trembled as an icy sensation seeped into me, and the weight on my shoulder grew heavier and heavier.
"Mr. Roger, run!" Antonio shouted.
No—I couldn't run. I needed to see her face.
I turned my head slowly, looking over my right shoulder, and there she was—the female ghost, her spectral face fully reflected in my eyes.
No, she wasn't KONGQING. The human skin in the coffin bore no resemblance to her.
So who was she? Stein had guessed right. Someone else had died, and this ghost was someone else entirely.
Someone had schemed to replace KONGQING with another woman.
Where was the real KONGQING? And who was this woman?
"Senior sister... I have a headache!" Dreaming Nun suddenly screamed, clutching her head.
Senior sister? Was this female ghost Dreaming Nun's senior sister? If so, then someone had killed one of the nunnery's nuns and used her to replace KONGQING.
The ghost's resentment was overwhelming. With her on my shoulder, I felt more suffocated and panicked than ever before—so much so that I wanted to kill myself.
That's what ghostly resentment does. It warps the mind. Do you think people who commit suicide out of nowhere truly want to die?
No—they were likely haunted by vengeful spirits and driven to it.
The female ghost ignored Dreaming Nun. Instead, she extended her grotesque tongue and licked my face. It was cold, covered in barbs, and scraped my skin raw.
"Since you've come here begging for death, it would be rude of me not to oblige," the female ghost said with a sinister grin.