Modern architecture naturally abandoned thresholds long ago, and people have gotten used to both seeing and using them without thresholds. But the issue is, in traditional-style buildings, since doors are often designed to be very tall and long, the absence of a threshold can give an unsettling, inharmonious feeling.
Too direct, too sinister, like a monster has opened its mouth, instilling dread at a glance.
While proceeding, all of a sudden, Xue Liangliang saw someone sitting inside a house with an open door to his right.
He was startled into stepping back twice; the damn uneven ground caused him not to steady himself, and he stumbled to the ground, becoming seated in direct view of that door.
Inside the door, there sat an old woman whose skin, perhaps from being soaked in the water for too long, looked terribly pale and was slightly swollen.
She was dressed in a blue jacket, its color as bright as funeral clothes, but the design was more elaborate.
Her head, neck, and hands were adorned with all kinds of jewelry.
She just sat there, as if she had been sitting for a long time—fortunately, with her eyes closed.
If her eyes were open, Xue Liangliang felt that he might have been scared unconscious by such an inadvertent sight.
Although the environment he was currently in, as well as the woman leading the way, were already eerie, the unique design of the civilian houses combined with the people sitting inside created another kind of more impactful horror within the already ominous atmosphere.
Xue Liangliang got up, with a faint sign of suffocation re-emerging, he immediately jogged forward for a bit, reducing the distance between himself and the woman.
In his mind, however, it was that old woman sitting inside the door, with pitch darkness behind her, no furniture or decorations in sight.
This made the compact, two-story civilian dwelling seem very much like an individual’s grave all to herself.
An open burial mound.
So, this was not just an empty town submerged in water.
Then, in those houses with closed doors that he saw upon entering, could there be people inside?
And those houses with open doors, yet no one seen inside, could their owners be... on the second floor?
With this thought, Xue Liangliang subconsciously closed in a bit more on the woman.
Although he was also afraid of this woman, the thought that the civilian dwellings on both sides were graves and he was walking in the middle of a grave path somehow made the woman ahead more bearable—at least, she moved.
As he walked, Xue Liangliang saw the second house with an open door and someone sitting inside.
This was a young girl, dressed in embroidered clothes with her hair bun piled high, looking very solemn as she sat there, hands folded on her lap, eyes closed, lips particularly bright red.
After a glance at her, Xue Liangliang shivered and quickly looked away.
Then, he saw a woman in a cheongsam sitting in a doorway, with a slender waist and a seductive pose, hands resting at her sides, her mouth seemed to hold a smile.
As if silently beckoning you to step inside and join her for a conversation.
Xue Liangliang realized that the deeper he went, the more houses with open doors, and the higher the proportion of seated women inside.
Since seeing the first old woman, he had now come across more than a dozen women sitting in doorways.
Their ages varied, as did their clothing styles, but they all dressed very formally, resembling those rural elders who prepare their funeral clothes and accessories before passing away, to present their most dignified side at their funerals.
This was their carefully designed... posthumous appearance.
Because of being soaked, their complexions were very pale, unnaturally so.
Yet, unlike the bloated giants formed after long immersion, they generally did not deform, or at least, retained their pre-death state to a great extent.
What’s more puzzling is that the dead normally pass away from illness, injury, or natural aging and generally wouldn’t look so well-preserved.
But among them, even the oldest woman still retained a sense of composure.
As if they hadn’t reached their last breath in death, but rather chose to die while still having the ability to live composedly.
To be honest, if it were various gruesome deaths, Xue Liangliang would have been less afraid.
But it was exactly this attitude of deliberately dressing up nicely, sitting there for you to see, or perhaps watching you, that immensely pressured him mentally.
In a daze, he’d feel a loss of awareness: was he observing them, or were they, sitting in their homes, observing him?
In a moment of bewilderment, Xue Liangliang bumped into the woman’s back.
The woman had stopped at some point.
With the bump, the woman didn’t move, but Xue Liangliang fell backward onto the ground.
Without looking back, the woman turned right and walked in a new direction.
Here, a crossroads appeared, with two small bridges on either side, with no water flowing underneath, just for decoration and Feng Shui purposes.
Xue Liangliang got up and could only follow the woman as she turned.
Next... all the doors of the civilian houses on both sides were open, and in each one sat a woman.
Xue Liangliang felt a mental breakdown was imminent; although their eyes were all closed, this persistent "gaze" was agonizingly painful and confusing.
He could only resort to the most ostrich-like approach, following the woman, head half-lowered, not looking to either side.
Although his peripheral vision inevitably caught glimpses, and although his heartbeat quickened, he ultimately persevered.