Chapter 259: 255: Diary of the Past

255: Diary of the Past

September 17, 1992. I think I heard her voice again. Is she still unwilling to let me go?

September 18, 1992. It has gotten worse. Her voice in the night has become louder and closer, but my wife is still sleeping. She is pregnant; I cannot go insane at a time like this and disturb her rest.

September 19, 1992. I cannot sleep, I really cannot sleep. I used work as an excuse to burn the midnight oil in the study all night. My wife is sleeping in the next room. I have discovered that pregnant women have excellent sleep quality, because when I could not help but headbutt the wall to try and drive the sound of that toad-frog out of my brain, she did not wake up all night.

September 20, 1992. I have been unable to sleep at night these past few days, and my mental state seems to have developed problems too. I always feel like things on the ground by the roadside are some kind of toad-frog, but when I look closely, they are not.

September 23, 1992. I was unconscious for several days. The doctor said it was due to overwork and exhaustion. After the boss of the newspaper office heard about my situation, he felt very apologetic toward me. The members of our newspaper office do not talk about boss-employee hierarchies in private; our relationships are very close. After the boss's wife learned about my family situation, she even went out of her way to take care of my wife for a few days. After I woke up, the boss decided to give me a month-long vacation to let me get some good rest. I wanted to refuse, but I did not know how to explain it, because this was not his fault.

September 24, 1992. Discharged from the hospital. I lied and said I had nervous tension and difficulty sleeping, so the hospital prescribed me sleeping pills. With the help of the medication, I was finally able to barely fall asleep, but the dreams were also exhausting. I was running in a tunnel full of slimy moss and unknown spore plants. The sensation under my feet made me feel like the ground was alive, as if I were stepping on the mucus-covered body of a toad-frog. Behind me, there was always a giant toad-frog, whose full form I could not glimpse, leaping in the shadows and pursuing me relentlessly. It is maddening.

October 2, 1992. I seem to have developed a tolerance to the sleeping pills. I woke up in the middle of the night. Dreams and reality seem to switch seamlessly, because the croaking of the toad-frog never ceases by my ears.

October 3, 1992. I must be insane, actually trying to find the source of the sound. While my wife was fast asleep, I took a kitchen knife and searched everywhere in the house. It felt like it was everywhere, yet nowhere at all. It seems the sound is on the bed?

October 4, 1992. At my strong insistence, my wife returned to her parents' home. I told her to stay at her parents' home during her pregnancy to get some good rest. For this, my usually gentle wife almost had a huge argument with me. I know she is very worried about me, but how could I not be worried about her? Last night, while searching for the sound, I actually crawled onto the bed following the noise and almost raised the kitchen knife to cut open my wife's stomach. I was insane and thought the sound was coming from inside my wife's belly.

October 6, 1992. I really miss the days when my wife was by my side. I have to admit, my cooking is truly terrible. Because my wife is not here, I have gradually become bold enough to go out in the middle of the night to search for the sound. I walk to the street, lie down, stick my head into the dark, foul-smelling gutter, and step into flower beds in my slippers, pushing aside every leaf. I fear that I will see her presence somewhere in my exploration, yet I am like a person who has lost their mind, seemingly obsessed with the path of exploration. I hope the neighbors don't see me, otherwise my wife and I will likely have to move.

October 7, 1992. There was a very thick fog last night, but I did not give up on my plan to search for the sound. But not long after I left the house, I encountered a robber. He stood in the fog, and the flashlight made his hulking, flat-headed figure look somewhat eerie. I almost forgot that this is not my peaceful era, so I turned and ran without hesitation, running for my life. That person, whose face I did not see, was also chasing me desperately. I barely managed to run home and avoid danger. Afterward, I recalled that the robber's footsteps sounded a bit strange. When the fog cleared during the day, I bit the bullet and revisited the scene, only to be nearly scared to death by something in the woods. I discovered that in the woods, following my own footprints, there was always a trail of strange forefoot prints. The prints were even webbed. This made me fearfully think: could it be that what was chasing me last night was actually a frog with a humanoid body!?

November 27, 1992. Ever since that time I was chased by the man-frog, I have temporarily given up the dangerous behavior of chasing the sound. I have also gradually realized that although those sounds are annoying enough, they are not unbearable. Moreover, as long as I do not actively pursue the sound, that man-frog... the source of the sound, will not actively harm me. For the sake of my wife and my future child, I have decided to suppress that insane side of me.

1992...

Fang Mu flipped through the diary quickly. The subsequent entries all seemed extremely mundane, yet he could still read the suppressed emotions of the diary's owner between the lines. Behind the mundane life recorded in those hidden texts was a madman whose writing grew increasingly agitated.

These diaries recording a mundane life continued until February 1995. His over-suppression and concealment of his behavior eventually brought about bad consequences for him.

February 16, 1995. Last night, my wife woke me up. When I woke up, I realized I was standing on the balcony. My wife was hugging me, and my three-year-old son Jianhua was also crying while hugging one of my legs... I had actually sleepwalked! My wife cried very sadly. I kept comforting her, comforting her until Jianhua fell asleep in her arms. My wife could no longer hold it in and asked me what was wrong. This time, I did not hide it anymore and told her about the pain I was enduring—that a monster like a giant toad-frog kept appearing by my side.

February 17, 1995. Although it was incredible and my wife did not fully believe my story, she still chose to accept my explanation and told me not to restrain my emotions anymore, hoping I could face the fear and the problem head-on. However, I dared not tell her that the ending was already fated, and in my heart, I was no longer willing to step into these muddy waters. After all, the time I have left to accompany them is not much.

February 18, 1995. My wife's firm and encouraging gaze made me determined to return to the origin and find the truth of everything. First, I must return to the Guinan region and see the patriarch of the Mo Clan there once more.

February 24, 1995. I spent a few days preparing things for the trip, and today I am finally setting off. I am recording in my diary on the train, thinking of my wife's instructions before I left: "It's your first time going there, and you're alone, so you must be careful." I told her I would be fine, because I know my time of death has not yet come.

February 25, 1995. Without cheap and accessible developed transportation, I finally arrived at my destination after a day and a night of bumping along on a sleeper bus. Damn it, the feet of the person upstairs really stink! After getting off the bus, I took a three-wheeled motorcycle to a small town under a county to stay temporarily. I found an inn near the station to check in. At the front desk of the inn, I saw a Shrine. A local revered animal deity was placed there; it was a frog standing against a wall, with mysterious, bright patterns painted all over its back.