Chapter Eighteen: Under the Dusk of Night

The third is Izumi Akazawa.

Interesting. Liu Mengchao whispered the information Liu Ling had given him, walking slowly through the rain. The rain was light but carried a chill, as if it had fallen from the sky in disappointment for failing to turn into ice, yet it still retained a lingering iciness.

He looked up at the station sign.

Red Moon Street.

For some reason, Liu Mengchao always felt that upon entering this world, every place exuded an eerie atmosphere. It felt as if someone were standing right behind him, watching him in silence.

He turned around abruptly.

The street was empty. There was not a soul in sight, not even a stray dog or cat; only the streetlamps stood one after another, casting a dim, murky light.

Liu Mengchao stood still, carefully recalling the address of Mei Misaki’s home from his memory.

After leaving the fast-food restaurant where he had just finished dinner and passing through the nearby small commercial street, he could see the Red Moon Street station, and then...

Liu Mengchao glanced around and suddenly began to smile.

A small alleyway sat nestled between the commercial street and the bus station, leading toward a slightly more picturesque residential area. Mei Misaki’s home was behind it.

*Tap. Tap.*

His feet splashed against the water on the ground, creating rhythmic sounds. The alley was short, and Liu Mengchao soon reached his destination.

On a slight incline, several small shops were scattered about. In the very center of these shops stood a three-story building constructed of rigid concrete, its style standing in stark contrast to the surrounding stores.

It resembled the common mixed-use buildings found in China, where the ground floor was used for commerce and the upper floors for living.

"The pale eyes that wander in the twilight of the night."

Liu Mengchao stood at the entrance, reading the words on the sign one by one. The sign was made of a black board that had faded to a dark, weathered hue, with the characters painted in a creamy color.

Beneath the sign hung an old, weathered white wooden board, similar to a house plaque, with the following words written in elegant calligraphy:

"Please come in — Atelier M."

"What an atmospheric place to live."

Liu Mengchao smiled to himself and stepped back, observing the dwelling more closely. Beside the door was a glass window.

"Well, now..." Liu Mengchao pursed his lips, bent down, and peered into the display window.

On a floor covered in deep red fabric sat a black round table. Resting upon it was the upper body of a female figure, her hands fixed in a pose as if she were about to lift a black veil covering her face.

Her skin was smooth and fair, her features so perfect they were terrifying—she was a young girl. Her hair, cascading from her chest, was pitch black, but her eyes were a deep, vibrant green. The red dress she wore, like her body, was severed at the midriff.

"A beauty too startling."

A cold voice suddenly rang out from behind Liu Mengchao.

"Is that why it cannot last long?" Liu Mengchao did not turn around. He had already recognized the voice of the person behind him—it was Mei Misaki. He continued to study the doll before him.

The girl had been crafted into a doll with human proportions. Even though it was only an upper torso, it was displayed just like that.

"It’s almost as if she were real," Liu Mengchao remarked. He raised his hand involuntarily, as if stroking the face of the half-bodied girl through the glass.

"They are not human."

The rain continued to fall around Liu Mengchao, just like the voice of Mei Misaki that had suddenly appeared beside him.

"They have no soul," Mei Misaki said, her eyes suddenly dimming.

"No," Liu Mengchao replied with a smile. He crouched down and looked at the doll in the window, grinning foolishly. "They are just like people."

As he spoke, he pointed at the doll, then at himself.

"They are just like people—they are all lonely."

"Lonely..." Mei Misaki murmured his words, cast a curious glance at him, and then lowered her head again. "That word doesn't sound beautiful at all."

Without waiting for Liu Mengchao to react, she reached out with a slender, fair hand and pushed the door open.

*Clang.*

Before they had even stepped inside, the dull sound of the doorbell chimed on its own.

Walking in, Liu Mengchao realized that the lighting here was even dimmer than he had imagined—it was dimmer than twilight, feeling almost like the time after the sun has completely set but before the moon has emerged.

Only a few streetlamps cast a lonely light from the corners of the street.

These dim lights formed the room's only illumination, highlighting a multitude of dolls. Liu Mengchao noticed that some were over a meter tall, crafted to true human scale, while others were quite small, just the right size to be cradled in one's arms.

That is, if you weren't afraid of such an atmosphere.

"Welcome."

Mei Misaki did not wait for Liu Mengchao; she walked ahead and soon vanished from sight. Liu Mengchao gave a helpless smile and turned to look at the person greeting guests at the entrance.

The greeter was on the left, just inside the display window area, where a long, narrow table stood. Liu Mengchao could vaguely make out a figure there.

Dressed in dark gray, as if trying to blend into the dimness of the shop, she sounded like an elderly woman based on the tone of her voice.

An old woman.

As soon as that thought crossed his mind, Liu Mengchao felt his interest wane. Yet, the old woman’s tone was filled with an eerie curiosity, like the keeper of a graveyard curiously questioning someone who had stumbled into the final resting place of the dead.

"It is rare for such a young boy to come here. Are you here to buy something, or..."

Or what?

Liu Mengchao frowned. He noticed an old register on the corner of the table. In front of it stood a small blackboard with "Admission Fee: 500 yen" written in yellow chalk.

"Is there no discount for middle school students?" Liu Mengchao asked while pulling out his wallet. Fortunately, he was in Japan; if a doll museum in China charged such a high entrance fee, no one would ever come.

"Are you a middle school student?"

"Yes."

Liu Mengchao nodded as he handed over the money.

"Then half-price will do."

The old woman spoke while extending her hand. It was covered in wrinkles and looked extremely aged. Liu Mengchao took the opportunity to get a clear look at her face.

She had snow-white hair and a hooked nose, and perched upon that nose was a pair of deep green glasses.

"Is this a doll shop?" Liu Mengchao asked, peering deeper into the store. It was even darker back there, and he could only vaguely discern shapes.

"You could say that. Half shop, half museum," the old woman said, leaning closer to him. "If you need anything, I can pour you some tea. Also, there is a sofa inside; you can sit and rest if you’re tired."

Liu Mengchao did not reply, simply shaking his head with a smile.

He had more important things to do. For instance, finding out exactly where Mei Misaki had gone.

As he walked slowly into the depths of the doll shop, the music playing in the store grew louder. It was likely a cello piece. Liu Mengchao knew nothing about music and could only grasp a general sense of it. Yet, even he could tell that the cello's melody was a perfect match for the atmosphere of the doll shop.

It was like a poplar tree standing in a cemetery, perfectly paired with a moss-covered tombstone.