(.)


    Reconnecting with Irene brought Yu Sheng a rush of relief. Even though the little doll often said things that drove him up the wall, this time, her help was exactly what he needed.


    As it turned out, Yu Sheng’s body was still “dreaming,” but not in any ordinary sense. ording to Irene, his consciousness had gone “astray.” In other words…


    Yu Sheng nced around the snug cabin and then peered out the window at the vast, shadowy night beyond.


    This “forest” wasn’t a mere product of his own thoughts. It was a “mental space” somewhere—an enclosed, self-contained trap that captured anyone who wandered in and cut them off from the outside world.


    The fact that Irene had tracked him down here was downright impressive.


    While Yu Sheng absorbed this unsettling exnation, Irene’s steady chatter reached a key point: “Yu Sheng, what’s going on over there? How did you end up ‘astray’ just from taking a nap? Where exactly are you right now?”


    “I’m in a ck forest,” Yu Sheng replied, rubbing his temples. “If I’m not mistaken, this is Little Red Riding Hood’s ck forest.”


    Irene sounded baffled. “What do you mean by ‘Little Red Riding Hood’s ck forest’?”“It’splicated,” Yu Sheng exined, collecting his thoughts. “Remember back at the museum, when that wolf crawled out of Little Red Riding Hood’s shadow and bit me? I think that bite linked us somehow. She once told me ‘fairy tales’ are a sort of otherworldly realm and that her poweres from a curse. This forest must be tied to that curse.”


    He then told Irene everything that had happened—how he’d been chased by invisible wolves, discovered a talking squirrel, and taken shelter in this odd little house. He left out the unsettling “lures” he’d encountered on the way.


    “You’re telling me… you’re chatting with a squirrel right now?” Irene asked, bbergasted. She seemed unable to grasp how going upstairs for a nap couldnd Yu Sheng in such a bizarre adventure. “What’s outside your cabin? Is it safe? Can you leave?”


    “For the time being, it’s quiet, but I still feel eyes on me. The wolves are hiding in the ck forest,” Yu Sheng replied, ncing outside. “At least in here, I’m not in danger right now. And I think I can still escape if things turn ugly. I can open doors, even in this ‘dream.’”


    “Open doors, hmm?” Irene mused. Then, after a moment, her voice lit up again in Yu Sheng’s mind: “Do you see any picture frames or drawing boards in there?”


    Yu Sheng looked around, puzzled. “No… Why do you ask?”N?v(el)B\\jnn


    “I want to see if I can e through’ to you,” Irene exined. “Since you’re not in your own dream, I can’t just appear on my own. I need some sort of medium—like the ‘coordinates’ you use when opening doors. If there’s no frame or board, do you have anything to draw with?”


    After a quick search around the cabin, Yu Sheng dug up some lumps of charcoal from the firece.


    The squirrel, still perched on the table hugging an oversized acorn, finally spoke. “What are you doing?”


    Without ncing up, Yu Sheng said, “A friend wants toe over.”


    The squirrel blinked, thoroughly confused. “…What?”


    Ignoring the baffled squirrel, Yu Sheng ryed the news to Irene. “All I’ve found is some charcoal.”


    “That’s perfect!” Irene replied, sounding quite pleased. “Just draw a frame on the floor.”


    Yu Sheng groaned. “Do you alwayse up with such ridiculous ns?”


    “It’s called improvisation!” Irene chirped. “In dream rituals, symbolism matters more than looks. Just do your best.”


    Muttering under his breath, Yu Sheng knelt down and used the charcoal to draw a rough rectangle in the middle of the cabin. “Okay, I’ve got a frame. Now what?”


    “Draw a breathtakingly elegant, maturedy—like me,” Irene dered.


    Yu Sheng said nothing.


    “…Fine, at least draw a figure that vaguely looks like me,” Irene grumbled, a bit deted.


    Still silent, Yu Sheng took up the charcoal again.


    “…You know what, a simple human outline will do,” Irene conceded. “And write my name underneath, in the letters I showed you.”


    With a grimace, Yu Sheng started sketching. “You know I can’t draw to save my life, right?”


    The squirrel watched him curiously. As soon as Yu Sheng began writing strange letters on the floor, the squirrel squeaked in rm. “Hey! Are you doing witchcraft? I’m warning you—don’t make things worse! The ck forest is already dangerous!”


    “I told you,” Yu Sheng repeated, still drawing. “I’m just inviting a friend inside. She’s stuck in a cursed painting, and this is how we bring her over.”


    The squirrel nearly choked on its acorn. It banged its tail nervously on the table, keeping its distance.


    Finally, Yu Shengpleted thest stroke. Immediately, the charcoal lines on the floor gave off a soft shimmer.


    The squirrel froze. Its wide, shiny eyes stared as the rough sketch on the floor began to glow. Before it could react, an ornate oil painting rose up from the light, fully materializing in midair.


    Inside the painting stood Irene, hands on her hips, beaming. “Yu Sheng! I’m here to help!”


    With a startled squeak, the squirrel fainted, tumbling backward. Its little paws twitched in the air.


    Yu Sheng hurried over and poked it gently. “Hey, are you okay?”


    When the squirrel came to, it eyed Irene’s floating portrait and shivered. “What sort of witchery is this? Who summons someone so ugly it looks like goblin art…?”


    “Excuse me?!” Irene snapped from the painting.


    Yu Sheng snorted. “I warned you that my drawing would be awful.”


    In the meantime, Irene sized up the squirrel and its bright red sash. “What’s that red ribbon for? Also, what’s ‘goblin art’ supposed to mean?”


    “It’s probably just a local expression,” Yu Sheng guessed. “Anyway, let me introduce you. This is Irene, my friend—and Little Red Riding Hood’s friend, too.”


    “Hello!” Irene said cheerfully, giving the squirrel a polite nod. “We’ve also got a fox friend, but she couldn’t get in. She’s waiting outside.”


    The squirrel’s eyes widened again. “Little Red Riding Hood really has a bunch of friends? Weird ones like you?”


    “I wouldn’t say she has a bunch,” Irene answered. “We haven’t known her for long, but we’re definitely interesting. Ie from Alice’s Little House! And our fox friend… she canunch her tail like a rocket, and—”


    But the squirrel was no longer listening. It began pacing in frantic circles, muttering to itself. “This isn’t how the ck forest is supposed to work… But if they cane in… maybe she won’t have to walk the path alone anymore… If this is some kind of ‘exception,’ then maybe…”


    Irene exchanged a concerned nce with Yu Sheng. “What’s it talking about?” she whispered.


    “Not sure,” Yu Sheng replied quietly. “But I have a feeling we’re about to find out.”


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