Chapter 5

"FINALLY, I’ve found a place I really like and feel comfortable in."

Dylan scoffed at Jasmine's words. She leaned back on the sofa and sprawled out lazily.

"Hey... show some manners. You're not the only tenant here."

Jasmine rolled her eyes dramatically.

"How did you even find me here?" Dylan asked, settling into the sofa across from her.

"Who said I was looking for you? I came here to get some inspiration for writing."

Dylan scoffed again. If Eric had his life philosophies, Jasmine was all about chasing writing inspiration. For some reason, this friend of his barely seemed to have any female friends.

"But why is this place so empty? Don’t people know about this guesthouse?" Jasmine asked, looking around.

"How did you even know about it?"

"My cousin. He said this place has a lot of mysterious stories. So, he suggested I stay here—clear my mind and gather some ideas."

Dylan shook his head. Jasmine was willing to spend money just to rent a room and finish her work. "Didn’t you just release a book recently?"

"That was two months ago. Now I’m working on a draft for the next one. I can't just sit around waiting, right? Gotta get it done early so I won’t be rushing if my publisher asks for it. Makes sense, doesn’t it?"

"Yeah, your work, your problem."

Wester Villa was peaceful and quiet. Since the guesthouse opened, Jasmine was only the second tenant after a woman who checked in two days ago.

"Dylan, you work as a rider, right? You meet all kinds of people, deal with different types of customers. You could totally write too. Plenty of ideas to tap into."

Dylan burst out laughing. "Me? Writing a book, publishing a novel?" He laughed harder and shook his head. "I couldn’t even finish a seven-page summary my supervisor asked for without falling asleep multiple times. And you want me to write tens, hundreds of thousands of words? Staring at a computer screen for hours?"

"You never know if you don’t try. You might end up with a career like mine."

Dylan shook his head firmly. "Typing’s not my thing, Jas. That’s not me."

"It’s tough at first, but eventually—"

Dylan quickly raised both hands. "Nope."

Jasmine pouted and nodded, understanding Dylan’s aversion to desk work or anything that required sitting in front of a screen for hours.

"How long are you staying here?" Dylan asked.

Jasmine paused. "Not sure yet. If there’s a discount, maybe longer," she grinned cheekily.

"Ah, you! Can’t even support your friend’s business without asking for a discount. What a useless friend."

"I gotta earn money too, you know. It doesn’t just fall from the sky."

"And yet you’re asking for a discount?"

"Dylan, Kyle's loaded. He probably doesn’t even care about a hundred or two discount. This guesthouse isn't his only business."

Dylan shook his head and stood up. "I’m heading out. Your room number’s on the card. But sorry, there aren’t many places to eat around here. The only option is the village eatery. If you're too lazy to go out, cook for yourself. If it tastes bad, that’s on you. Bye."

Before Jasmine could respond, Dylan was already out the door.

JASMINE gazed toward the forest across the river. She had heard countless stories about Bushes Holes, a place rich with its own myths. From tales of man-eating snakes to wronged shamans, Bamboo Village promised legends beyond imagination.

The villagers’ belief that the place was governed by supernatural beings made it even more intriguing. So, when Jasmine found out about a newly opened guesthouse there, she immediately booked a room—never expecting that her friend was the owner.

But that wasn’t the only reason Jasmine came to Bamboo Village. There was something she needed to handle and resolve. If not, more deaths or other disasters might plague her family.

A quick glance to her right caught Jasmine's attention. A woman was standing about a meter from the riverbank, right near the spot where a man's body had been found before. The woman stood in silence, lost in thought.

“Miss?” Jasmine greeted, causing the woman to flinch slightly.

“Are you a cop?”

The question made Jasmine blink in surprise. The woman, who appeared to be in her early 30s, seemed confused before offering a polite smile.

“No, I’m not a cop. My name’s Lucy. I’m renting a room at Wester Villa.”

“So you're the first guest there? I’m Jasmine. I’m staying there too. The owner’s actually a friend of mine. Total coincidence, though. I had no idea he opened the place.”

Jasmine introduced herself warmly. Lucy shook her hand with a smile that never faded.

“I thought you were a cop, maybe looking for new evidence or something.”

Lucy glanced at the marked spots on the ground where the body had been discovered. “They’ve stopped investigating. Called it a sudden death case.” She looked back at Jasmine. “What brings you here?”

“I’m a writer, just here to look for inspiration.”

Lucy nodded with a gentle smile. “I heard this village has a lot of mystical stories. Its history goes way back, even before 1900s. Must be interesting to dig into.”

“Are you a writer too?”

“I write articles. They’ll be up on some websites later.”

As they chatted, Jasmine noticed something odd about Lucy. The woman kept glancing toward the thick forest across the river, as if she saw something but chose not to mention it.

“I should head back now. Take care, okay? The river’s deep.”

Jasmine nodded, watching Lucy walk away with a head full of questions.

KYLE placed the watering can down after tending to the flowers. Noticing someone at the entrance, he turned around and froze at the sight of a man standing there. The man smiled and walked in.

"How are you... Kyle?"

Kyle's eyes swept over the man from head to toe. He stayed silent, seemingly unable to respond to the greeting.

The man glanced around the courtyard of Wester Villa. "It’s been almost five years. The last time you came back... two years ago. You’ve pretty much cut ties with us." His gaze locked on Kyle. "You look pale. Your condition seems to be getting worse."

Kyle averted his eyes. "I’m fine..."

"You can lie to others, but not to me."

Kyle remained quiet. There was no point arguing with this man.

"I'm not the same person you used to know. My name is Mr. Walter now."

Kyle looked at him again. "Mr. Walter?"

"And you... still want me to call you Kyle, right?"

Kyle lowered his head. "Have a seat, Uncle."

Mr. Walter followed him to the stone table and chairs. "You seem to be doing well here."

"More or less."

Mr. Walter's intense gaze made Kyle avoid eye contact. "I’ll try to come back soon. Don’t worry about me."

Mr. Walter sighed heavily. "How can I not worry? Just come home for a while. Take care of your health first. You can always come back here afterward."

"I think I’ve found it. I just need to be sure."

Mr. Walter nodded. "I don’t think the scales matter anymore. Maybe you should just come home."

Kyle shook his head. "I’m certain I’ve found it, Uncle."

"Be careful. I don’t want what happened to your father to happen to you. Crystal Valley can’t afford to lose you."

"I promise I’ll take care of myself. Please look after my father and sister."

Mr. Walter placed a hand on Kyle’s shoulder. "It’s my duty to look after your family. Don’t forget, your place isn’t here."

Kyle nodded. "I know. Uncle, if I don’t succeed, can you bring it back for me?"

"What do you mean? You’re not coming back? Planning to stay here for good?"

"If I can’t manage..."

"Listen, Kyle. Not just anyone can handle that thing. Especially after it’s been here for so long." Mr. Walter handed him a thumb-sized bottle. "Drink this. It’ll help restore your body temporarily. But after a month, you have to return. Forget about the scales for now. Think about your own well-being first."

Kyle stared at the bottle filled with red liquid in his hand and nodded again.

From behind a nearby wall, Jasmine quietly moved away. Eavesdropping on Kyle’s conversation with the man only made her more curious.

Who exactly was Mr. Walter?

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