Chapter 260: 256 Frogs and Toads

To better understand the objects described in the diary, Fang Mu would look up things he didn't understand while flipping through the pages.

For instance, regarding the frog statue in the Shrine mentioned, Fang Mu found online that this frog statue is actually a type of local animal deity worshipped in the Guinan region, known as the Frog God, belonging to shamanistic worship.

The birth of the Frog God can be traced back to more primitive and ancient times; it is one of the totem cultures passed down since ancient times in the Guinan region and other parts of the Divine Land. Modern people speculate that because the croaking of frogs signifies the arrival of the sowing season, the deity was considered by locals to be the image of a Rain God and a God of Harvest. Praying to it could bring people favorable weather and a bountiful harvest.

Fang Mu couldn't help but wonder, does this locally worshipped Frog God have any connection to the toad-frogs mentioned by the diary's owner?

Moreover, the diary owner's expressions regarding "time" were very strange: "It is not yet my peaceful era," "marrying someone who could be my mother," "actually the ending is destined"... This makes one wonder, is the diary owner a transmigrator? Does he come from some era in the future?

With a mix of excitement and nervousness, Fang Mu continued reading the diary.

February 26, 1995. After arriving in the area, I did not seek a local to act as a guide; after all, it was not my first time here. Although more than twenty years had passed, the place I was going to was relatively primitive and backward, and the passage of time had not changed that place much, which made it easier for me to revisit old haunts. Heh, of course, no one here would recognize me. With the help of the local villagers, I boarded a pickup truck that happened to be heading to my destination, and together with the red bricks and tiles being transported, I arrived at a mountain village called Wenya Tun. To an outsider and young man like me, the villagers cast strange looks. Because the sun was almost setting when I arrived at Wenya Tun, I had to consider lodging first. I paid the big brother driving the pickup a little extra for the fare and the cost of staying at his home, and the big brother's family treated me with great hospitality.

February 27, 1995. Since arriving in Guinan, my neurasthenia has improved quite a bit; I know this is not the credit of the medicine. I stayed at the pickup driver's house for the night, and after waking up feeling refreshed, I intended to go out early to find the village chief of Wenya Tun, but the big brother stopped me, saying the village chief's family didn't have the habit of waking up early, and told me to eat breakfast at his house first. Breakfast was sweet potato porridge with pickled vegetables; the taste wasn't great, but it was fine for dealing with my hunger. After finishing breakfast, I saw the big brother's daughter squatting next to an iron bucket in the courtyard where she was washing vegetables and collecting water, teasing something. I heard the sounds of toad-frogs.

I approached with some fear and curiosity and saw the girl dump everything she had collected with a sheet of homework paper into the iron bucket. Immediately, the iron bucket emitted the intense croaking of toad-frogs, making loud clashing sounds against the bucket walls, as if the toad-frogs inside were fighting over food. Faintly, I even heard the sound of flesh and blood being torn, yet the girl, as if seeing something interesting and exciting, let out a joyful, silver-bell-like laugh.

I felt a chill run down my spine. I knew what the girl was doing, and I was very clear that the things the girl had collected were the hair I had dropped in my room and the fingernails I had trimmed and thrown away last night.

I arrived at the village chief's house and stated my purpose, telling him of the troubles I had endured over these past few years. The village chief was silent for a long time after learning of the matter, then asked me to wait in the living room. He then walked out leaning on a cane, presumably to find something. The wait was quite long, so I stood up and wandered around the living room to look around. Soon, I saw a Shrine here too, and inside, sure enough, a toad-frog was enshrined, but this toad-frog was different from the one I saw at the inn.

The thing before my eyes, with its wrinkled skin, body covered in bumps, and even seemingly growing bristly hairs, leaned more towards a toad, which was vastly different from the ordinary frogs with smooth skin and bright, colorful patterns.

That was not the Frog God, but the Toad God, a more niche animal faith in the area. It is worth noting that one must distinguish between the two; the locals' attitudes toward them are completely different.

Looking at that statue, which looked like a toad yet not quite a toad, with facial features bearing traits of a bat and a sloth, my heart was filled with chill, because I was being watched by her.

The gaze of a deity is sometimes not a Blessing, but a Curse.

Twenty minutes later, the village chief returned. He held a black paulownia wood box in his hands and came before me, telling me that the way to eliminate my trouble was to take this paulownia wood box to the Nongshan Shandong, place the box at the feet of the statue, and then return. He solemnly warned me that during the process of entering the mountain cave, I must absolutely not speak, and it would be best if I could even hold my breath. No matter what I saw or heard, I must absolutely turn a blind eye, turn a deaf ear, and never answer... otherwise, I would not be able to run out of that cave.

I was very grateful to this old man for everything he did for me. Presumably, he had already paid a significant price to help me get the things inside this paulownia wood box; his hands had become eerily swollen in just a few dozen minutes, with rough bumps of varying sizes emerging on them, just like the skin of a toad.

I returned to the big brother's house with the paulownia wood box and asked about the place called Nong Mountain. When the big brother's family heard this place, their expressions became very strange, carrying a hint of ferocity, and the way they looked at me changed subtly. He told me that Nong Mountain was quite far from here, and it was too late to enter the mountain now; terrifying wild beasts would emerge in the mountain at night. Thus, I decided to set off for the mountain the next day.

March 7, 1995. I returned home safely. My wife was very happy about my safe return and even contacted nearby relatives and friends to celebrate specifically for me, even though the relatives and friends who came to eat at the house didn't know what they were celebrating.

Seeing this, Fang Mu's brows were tightly knitted. He flipped back and forth through the pages, but did not find any traces of the diary being altered or torn.

This meant that during the blank 7 days from February 27 to March 7, something must have happened to the diary owner, but he deliberately did not record it.

This blank part made Fang Mu feel as if his heart were being clawed at, his whole body feeling stifled. As a writer and also a bookworm, he simply could not endure this missing part. He urgently wanted to know what happened after the diary owner entered the mountain, but the diary owner, like a devil, had deliberately erased this record.

Suddenly, Fang Mu's heart tightened, and a thought flashed through his mind: Could the reason this diary owner did this on purpose be to lead me to Wenya Tun in Guinan?

Fang Mu became even more curious about the father of the Fang siblings. What exactly did this person, who possessed handwriting and a writing style almost identical to his own, look like, and what kind of person was he?

Regarding this, Fang Mu could only spend money to have a Private Detective do further investigation; if possible, at least find a photo of him.

As of now, Fang Mu only knew that on the page of the Fang siblings' household register containing their father's information, the name registered was Fang Lin.

"Fang Lin..." Fang Mu, who already had many guesses about the diary owner's identity, felt a slow surge of unease and absurdity when thinking of this name again.

Remove the "Hu" radical from the character "Fang," remove the "Mu" radical from "Lin," and that is his name.

Could it be that Fang Lin... is me?

Once this thought emerged, Fang Mu could no longer shake it off, and at the same time, an idea flashed through his mind.

He knew that doing this was wrong, he knew it was absurd, and he even more knew that the answer obtained would be as unbelievable as a fantasy and would cause his worldview to collapse... but Fang Mu did it anyway. He asked someone to get the hair of Fang Jingjing, who was currently in line for her funeral, and took his own hair to a DNA testing agency for verification.

Before the test results came out, Fang Mu continued reading the diary, and his reading speed increased.

He was afraid that after the test results came out, he would not have the courage to continue reading.

His trembling hands crumpled the pages of the diary, and with a heart full of trepidation, he continued downward.

Since returning from Guinan, Fang Lin and his family had returned to peace and tranquility. Although the diary was not recorded very diligently, the sense of oppression from before was gone between the lines, the handwriting had become much softer, and life seemed to be getting better.

Feeling the emotions of the diary owner as he wrote, Fang Mu's mood also seemed to be comforted, and he slowly became able to calm down again.

This relaxed state lasted until July 1997, two years after returning from Guinan, when the beautiful sounds came to an abrupt end.

July 12, 1997. The second child is already two months old. Because of well-known reasons, while the belly is not yet obvious, she has to return to the rural hometown first. Only then can she and our unborn daughter be born safely. I am staying in the city to continue earning money.

July 21, 1997. The ominous premonition was fulfilled after all. I received a package today. Even through the snake-skin bag packaging, I felt the familiar weight of the object inside. I opened the express delivery, and the things inside left me stunned for nearly half an hour. It was a black paulownia wood box, the very thing I had sent into the Nongshan Shandong two years ago. It had actually been moved out of the cave and returned to my hands. The only difference was that this time, it came with a key that could unlock the wooden box.

I opened the box to check; it was empty, and my heart felt empty, my soul as if it had fallen into an endless abyss. That night, I drank alone on the balcony and suddenly felt the wind was a bit cold, the back of my neck felt chilly, and my heart became distressed. From the day I married my wife... or rather, from even earlier, from the first time I came into contact with her existence, I knew that I could never escape my death. I will die on the day I was born.

July 22, 1997. I boarded the train to Guinan once again, holding a glimmer of luck in my heart. If I send the box back there again, could I escape this disaster?

July 23, 1997. Devastating news. The village chief at the time is already dead. The village chief and his whole family are dead. His daughter-in-law also went mad after losing her child, and not long after, in the mental hospital, she squeezed her head into the iron bars that were only wide enough for an arm to pass through, committing suicide in this eerie way. The new village chief told me with regret that there is no one left in the village who can help me. Then... who sent this paulownia wood box to me?

July 25, 1997. I am now sitting on the train home, my heart in utter despair. When I returned to Nong Mountain, I discovered that the cave had collapsed, and there was no longer any way to enter it. Seeing that I had dared to enter the mountain alone, the new village chief was both shocked and angry, scolding me for not wanting to live. Perhaps seeing that I was pitiful, he finally revealed the truth: a few months ago, all the family descendants in the village who worshipped the Toad God went to Nong Mountain to hold the annual sacrificial ceremony. Unexpectedly, the cave collapsed that day, and no one who entered the cave that day survived. So, it was equivalent to saying that all those who knew how to solve the problem on me were dead, and naturally, no one could help me anymore.

September 30, 1997. My wife's belly is already very big. I expressed to my wife my idea of moving her to a northern city. Although her parents were unwilling in every way, my wife agreed without even thinking.

The next few diary entries recorded the daily life of Fang Lin taking care of his pregnant wife, while Fang Lin also had to work hard at his new job during the day.

Until April 1, 1998, the wife, who had been pregnant for a long time, finally gave birth. Fang Lin and his wife welcomed their youngest child, Fang Jingjing.

April 7, 1998. My daughter was born on the 1st of this month, mother and daughter are safe. Jianhua is a sensible child; it is clear that he really likes his younger sister. I told him that if in the future Mom and Dad are no longer here, then no matter what happens, he must love his younger sister and protect her with all his might. Jianhua swore to me very firmly. Hearing this, I held my wife and children and cried in front of them for the first time. I could no longer hide my weak side.

May 20, 1998. After Labor Day, I finally found time to write my last diary entry. Presumably, you have already read to the end here, but what I want to say is that I don't intend to write anything today, because today you will receive a package. That is the secret I left for myself. We cannot escape the vortex of time, the trap of fate. Good luck to the me in the past from the future.

Seeing this, Fang Mu's heart gave a violent jolt. Confusion and fear crawled all over his body like ants, his respiratory organs felt as if they were being strangled, and he could not use words to describe his current mood.

Fang Lin... is it really me?

Ding-dong!

"Sir, please sign for your package."

A distraught Fang Mu took the package sent by the testing agency from the courier who had delivered it to his door. He opened the document in the package, read the text on it, and read the most critical piece of information.

Fang Mu suddenly felt the sky collapsing, a wave of dizziness causing the world to spin. He collapsed to the ground, muttering: "It's father and daughter... Fang Jingjing is my daughter..."