He intensely disliked Xijing Normal University, yet he had been chosen as one of its freshmen. This reminded him of old movies where little girls were forced to marry old landlords, their tears lingering daily. Now, he was the little girl, and Xijing Normal University was the landlord. Lin Zhao felt truly miserable. 

Baidu said Xijing was 1,500 kilometers from home, but it felt even farther. The train ride took him over a day and a night. Upon getting off the train, he encountered a group of scammers trying to steal his phone and wallet. After he figured it out, they resorted to robbery. Fortunately, his shouting attracted the attention of a police officer, allowing him to escape. Then, he encountered students arriving at the school station. His luggage was dumped on a truck, and he was loaded onto a paint-chip bus, which took him to campus in a daze. As soon as he stepped off the bus, he sprained his ankle. He had imagined countless times how he would stride confidently into university, but who could have imagined his first steps would be limping? 

He also disliked several of the roommates. Apart from him, the other three were locals and got along well with each other, leaving him aside. They chatted in the local dialect, mumbling and mumbling, and Lin Zhao couldn't understand a word. It felt like he was in Malaysia. The melody of "Chrysanthemum Terrace" was beautiful, but very sad. When the song ended, silence returned, even quieter than before the music started. Lin Zhao opened his eyes and sat up suddenly. He felt as cold as if he had fallen into an ice cellar. 

　　The lights were off, but the room was not pitch black. There was a faint light. 

　　The dozens of computers around were suddenly filled with people. Most of them looked like students, but they sat upright, their hands hanging down, motionless, facing the monitor, as if they were quietly looking in the mirror, or performing some kind of religious ritual. 

　　Lin Zhao broke out in a cold sweat as he suddenly realized that the computer monitors in front of these people were actually made of paper, square and neat. Next to each monitor stood a white candle, its oil dripping like tears, the flickering flames casting a faint blue glow on their faces. 

　　There was a noise behind him, and he turned sharply. The woman at the doorway was slowly rising from behind the cash register and approaching him with a strange, slow gait. Her footsteps weren't the lively clatter of ordinary people; each step made a rustling sound, like sweeping a broom. 

　　As she drew closer, Lin Zhao, in the candlelight, suddenly realized that this woman was actually a paper doll. Her facial features were outlined with a brush, and the corners of her mouth, drawn in red, curled slightly upward, as if she were smiling at him. Her dress and skirt were made of glossy black paper, the hem meticulously cut with countless fine tassels. The rustling sound grew clearer as she drew closer. 

　　A low, muffled laugh echoed from the darkness, the eerie sound of a group of people chuckling at each other, echoing eerily. 

　　Lin Zhao yelped, jolted awake. He gasped for air and looked around in shock. 

　　The overhead lights were still flickering, and a sweet, cloying smell hung in the air. He realized then that he had drifted off to sleep, a nightmare. 

　　Lin Zhao glanced up at the cash register. 

　　It was shrouded in a gray shadow, and the woman was tightly encased within it, with only the top of her head visible above. 

　　Lin Zhao reached out and touched the computer screen in front of him. A cool sensation spread across his fingertips, a clear sign of something other than paper. He breathed a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from his face. He was covered in cold sweat. This dream was too real and scared him. 

　　Outside, the sound of rain was still loud. It sounded like a rainstorm, but it seemed that there had been no thunder for a long time. Lin Zhao looked at the time again. It was already 11 o'clock. He didn't expect that he had slept for nearly an hour. 

　　There was a sound of a chair making a noise. Then Lin Zhao saw the woman at the cashier stand up and shout stiffly towards the back of the Internet cafe: Is anyone leaving? I'm going to lock the door. 

　　Lin Zhao stood up and asked in surprise: Why are you locking the door?

　　The woman stared at him intently, as if he were a stranger behaving strangely. After a pause, she said, "Someone's checking. They need to lower the shutter. Are you leaving?" 

　　Lin Zhao murmured, "Oh," shook his head, and sat back down. "No, I'm not leaving." 

　　The woman paused for a moment, then suddenly whispered, "Is anyone leaving?" 

　　Lin Zhao was startled, looked up and around, and said blankly, "I said I'm not leaving."