A chilling feeling washed over me. Oh my god, whatever I had just seen, it wasn't a cat or a mouse, but something beyond the norm, something unknown. I didn't know why it was doing this to me, but I knew it was trying to assert its presence. It wanted to throw me off balance. If I didn't take it for granted, I'd just pretend nothing had happened. 

But I couldn't pretend nothing had happened. I found my legs were weakening. I felt so pathetic, but I couldn't hold on any longer. I leaned on my stick, using it as a crutch. Laughter emanated from not far away. The sound was soft, quieter than a rat's clatter, but in the lonely night, I could hear it clearly. 

I looked in the direction of the sound. The moonlight was getting increasingly dim, shining on the bungalow. Everything was "hazy moon, hazy birds." I noticed something on the roof. There should be nothing on it except the chimney and the induced draft fan, but I saw something next to each chimney. Due to the distance and the lack of moonlight, I couldn't see what it was. However, it looked like some kind of decoration specially installed on the roof. 

But this wasn't Europe, this wasn't Russia. The roofs here were flat, sloping slightly like a gable. They definitely weren't supposed to have the kind of ornamentation that European buildings have. And I clearly heard laughter coming from there. As if to confirm my thoughts, another burst of laughter followed. It was a strange laugh, neither joyful nor audible. It sounded like the meaningless noises of a fool or a psychopath. 

I shuddered. The moonlight suddenly grew stronger, illuminating the rooftops like daylight. I could see clearly: those things looked a bit like terracotta figurines unearthed from ancient tombs. They were asymmetrical, their forms ridiculous! Their necks were hunched, their limbs asymmetrical, their features twisted, their bodies huddled together in a single piece of pottery, like silkworm pupae. In the moonlight, they swayed like tumblers. 

So that's what they were! I breathed a sigh of relief. To confirm my mistake, I took another look. This time, I realized they were alive! Some of those creatures were clapping, some were stretching their necks, some were waving flutes, and some were urinating! Each of their faces held a fierce expression, some even covered in coarse animal hair. The sounds they made were devoid of any kind. 

The same sound echoed from all directions: on the office roof, the shed roof, the riveting and welding shop roof, the warehouse roof, and the roof of the small, former mailroom. Their expressions were frozen, their movements stiff, yet they possessed a unique aura and flexibility. But they also seemed more sinister, more inhuman. With a thud, a terracotta figurine fell to the ground. It twisted and turned awkwardly towards me. Although still far away, its movements were firm, its purpose clear, and it moved towards me with an unyielding ferocity. 

I was about to faint, but I couldn't say no. I didn't want to fall into the hands of these creatures. Suddenly, the same, but even louder, laughter echoed. A large rat head poked out from the wall of the small room that had once housed the mailroom. Its small, red, animal-like eyes glared at me fiercely. Its head was desperately trying to push outward, and I could see the lower part of it was almost out. 

I shuddered and spun around, only to see the office door swing open. I nearly cried out. I was surrounded. The only place I could go was to the room where Xiaoguo and I were staying. I stumbled toward the room on the right. When I reached the door, I looked back. The terracotta figurines seemed to be softening under the pressure of the moonlight, and their movements slowed. I felt somewhat relieved. 

Before I even entered the room, I felt that awkward feeling again, but I didn't have time to think before I rushed in. Xiaoguo was fast asleep, looking as if his conscience was perfectly clear. I stumbled to the bed, bumping into the legs. I quickly climbed in and pulled the sheets over myself. I'd almost covered my head with them if I could, but I knew a sheet wouldn't protect anything. I realized I still had the stick in my hand. I placed it by my legs, my eyes fixed on the door. 

The moonlight was still bright, but there was no movement in the yard. I tried my best to peer into the distance. I vaguely saw the terracotta warriors in the distant shed collapsing like mud, but I couldn't be sure there was no danger outside. Furthermore, the office door was still open, and I continued to wait anxiously. But gradually, I stopped caring about the outside world. I began to feel that this room itself was terribly awkward.