Jiang Luo struggled to look at the mirror.
That same voice chuckled again, full of intrigue. “What an amusing story.”
Why was Chi You appearing at a time like this?
Jiang Luo’s feet lifted off the ground, his toes barely touching the floor. He clawed at his neck, trying to resist the mist and get some oxygen. But after repeated failures, his expression turned cold and dark.
The thin mist couldn’t take human form—it writhed endlessly behind Jiang Luo. That eerie, horrifying voice was still humming the tune Jiang Luo had just been humming. The cheerful melody had turned sinister; the once-cute tune now cold and twisted.
Logically speaking, Chi You shouldn’t even have the ability to appear right now. Even during the seven-day period after death, he shouldn’t be able to return in spirit.
The oxygen in Jiang Luo’s lungs was running dangerously low. Sweat clung to his hair, and his face was faintly tinged with blue. Even in this wretched state, the beautiful youth remained stunning. He struggled, fighting back against the mist that had no form or shadow, like a fragile, pitiful flower bud.
Watching such a flower bud lose its life right in one’s hands—most people would find it unbearable. But for a rare few, this was precisely how they appreciated beauty.
The moment beauty meets death—that’s when it’s most moving.
Chi You was one of those rare few.
His humming, faint yet audible, grew more delighted. The gray, churning mist clenched tighter—Jiang Luo had already stepped halfway across death’s threshold.
Chi You really would kill him.
What a godd*mn lunatic—he’d clearly taken an interest in Jiang Luo, but now he wanted to kill him even earlier than he had in the original story.
Jiang Luo forced himself to look toward the mirror. In that moment, his mind became exceptionally clear—frighteningly calm. He recalled what Ye Xun had once said: mirrors possess the power of reflection and belong to the yin. Bathrooms are already considered impure, and mirrors in bathrooms are steeped in misfortune. Add to that the current hour—midnight, when yin energy is at its peak—and perhaps that’s why Chi You had been able to appear.
If he destroyed the mirror, would Chi You vanish along with it?
It was a gamble—a highly dangerous one.
But doing nothing meant certain death.
Jiang Luo absolutely didn’t believe that this malicious ghost, who had already revealed his true nature, would suddenly grow compassionate and let him go.
The square mirror captured this tense, horrifying scene. Jiang Luo lifted a leg and stepped onto the sink, his back and long legs forming the arc of a graceful longbow.
His black hair swept down over his shoulders; the strands he had just tidied now laid in complete disarray. Beads of sweat slid from his face to his chin. Seizing whatever strength he could muster, he stole a breath of oxygen—then suddenly turned to the mirror and gave a sweet, charming smile.
His oxygen-deprived face flushed like someone slightly drunk. Jiang Luo narrowed his eyes, the shadows of his lashes falling over his lower lids, flickering like candlelight—hazy, yet brimming with syrupy, lingering emotion. “Chi You…”
With great effort, he mouthed silently: “You love me so much, don’t you? Look—you even came all the way here just for me.”
His smile was tender, but the expression in his eyes was steeped in mockery and provocation.
The story Jiang Luo had made up was meant to fool the living who didn’t know the truth—he knew full well he could never deceive Chi You.
And he hadn’t intended to deceive him.
Facing Chi You, Jiang Luo showed his purest malice. He looked straight at the ghost, his smile widening. “Everyone knows how much you love me.”
The thrill in his blood began to boil, to surge, to roar—urging him to crush Chi You, to force this ghost to yield in defeat.
The thought came with such ferocity, such clarity, that it instantly shattered all Jiang Luo’s other plans. Like a basin of icy water dumped over his skull, the chill shot down his spine and flooded his entire body.
Feign weakness? What for?
Why pretend to be innocent?
Although he hadn’t killed Chi You—but now that he’d taken the original owner’s place, he would carry all the good and evil that came with it.
He was done pretending to be some pitiful little thing in front of Chi You.
Since they both knew the truth—since Chi You was interested in him and still wanted to kill him—why not push things all the way?
You’re dead. You can’t speak now.
Even if you hate me, in everyone else’s eyes, you’re the ghost who loved me but couldn’t have me.
You want to kill me? There’ll be countless living people standing in front of me to protect me.
The arrogant expression returned to Jiang Luo’s beautiful face—bold, unrestrained. The classic grace of his looks shattered, replaced by a dangerous, striking edge.
The laughter in the mist suddenly stopped—as if taken aback.
Jiang Luo flashed another brilliant smile toward the mirror. Then, gathering all his strength, he twisted his body and kicked hard toward it.
—If this didn’t work, Chi You’s hands would snap his neck.
Crash!
The shattering of glass was sharp and piercing. Outside the door, Lu Youyi and Ye Xun burst in at once. “Jiang Luo!”
Jiang Luo landed hard in the pile of broken glass. Lu Youyi rushed over to help him up, while Ye Xun stood guard in front of them, face grim.
Jiang Luo stood, brushing shards of glass from his clothes. Lu Youyi asked anxiously, “What happened?!”
Jiang Luo’s shoulders were trembling. Lu Youyi thought he was crying—but then Jiang Luo lifted his head with a smile. His flushed cheeks looked tipsy, almost dazed. He touched the terrifying bruise on his neck and said in a dreamy, almost surreal tone, “Chi You just came to see me.”
Lu Youyi’s eyes went wide. “What?!”
Ye Xun whipped his head around to stare at Jiang Luo.
Jiang Luo’s fingers slowly stroked the bruises on his neck. Smiling, he said, “He said he missed me. That he wanted me to go with him.”
The marks on his neck were real—impossible to fake. Lu Youyi gaped, stammering, “R-really?”
Jiang Luo winked at him playfully. “Of course.”
The more delighted Jiang Luo seemed, the heavier Lu Youyi’s heart grew. He couldn’t believe it. The image he had of Chi You was crumbling fast. “That’s insane…”
“Humans and ghosts walk different paths,” Ye Xun said darkly, casting Jiang Luo a warning glance. “Once someone dies, they can never come back. The living and the dead must not stay together. That is the law of yin and yang.”
Lu Youyi numbly echoed him: “Right… Ye Xun’s right… How could Brother Chi You do something like this…”
Brother Chi You is so gentle and easygoing—how could he do something like that?
Lu Youyi felt like his head was going to explode. As they walked out of the bathroom, Ye Xun, seemingly worried that Jiang Luo might spiral, deliberately turned on the TV and found a positive, uplifting social channel, hoping it would make Jiang Luo appreciate the value of life.
The TV played on quietly, the three of them each lost in their own thoughts. After a motivational segment about a steelworker from Baotou finished, Ye Xun turned off the TV, handed a stuffed toy to Jiang Luo to hold, and moved to stand by the desk.
Jiang Luo looked up at the clock. 11:15 p.m.
The hour of zi had begun.
Ye Xun lit an incense stick and planted it upright into a bowl of white rice, pushing it straight down to the bottom. With clean, practiced movements, he picked up a yellow talisman and used the incense to light it. He then placed the half-burning talisman into a bowl of clear water.
Jiang Luo could vaguely make out the markings—a ghost-seeking talisman.
Strangely, even though the talisman was thrown into water, it kept burning. By the time it burned out, the once-clear water had turned into a bowl of murky black-gray liquid.
With both hands, Ye Xun reverently poured the dirty water into the rice bowl, then fixed his eyes on the trail of incense smoke.
The incense smoke floated upward in a faint, wavering line.
Just as their nerves were stretched tight, a knock came from the door.
An old woman’s voice called out, “Are you all asleep?”
Lu Youyi broke out in a sweat. He ran to open the door. “Grandma, is something wrong?”
Outside, the old woman gave a shy smile, holding up a tray. “I was afraid you boys might get hungry late at night, so I brought you some food.”
Lu Youyi took the tray and deeply inhaled the delicious aroma, nearly moved to tears. “Thank you so much.”
The old lady chuckled, then peeked into the room and reminded them, “Go to sleep soon, don’t stay up too late.”
Lu Youyi nodded repeatedly. Just as he was about to close the door, he suddenly asked, “By the way, Grandma, how long have you lived here?”
The old lady thought for a moment, then slowly said, uncertainly, “About a month.”
Lu Youyi: “Have you noticed anything strange?”
She shook her head, but halfway through, her movement paused—as if something came to mind. Her expression turned hesitant.
Seeing this, Lu Youyi quickly pressed, “Grandma, could you tell me about anything odd you’ve encountered?”
The old woman looked around cautiously, then leaned closer and whispered, “My daughter-in-law’s been acting strange.”
Lu Youyi froze. “How so?”
The old woman stepped forward, cupped her mouth with a hand, and mumbled, “She won’t let my grandson eat… Just this past month, her temper’s gotten much worse. She often yells at my son, even hits my grandson.”
“I—I get scared just looking at her…” the old lady trailed off.
Lu Youyi frowned, thanked her, then brought the food back into the room and relayed everything to Jiang Luo and Ye Xun.
Ye Xun pondered for a while. “A month ago… That’s when the three girls went missing.”
Lu Youyi said, “That’s way too much of a coincidence.”
Ye Xun concluded decisively, “We’ll go check on the landlady tomorrow.”
The old lady had brought noodles—two poached eggs in the bowl, plus fragrant, spicy shredded potatoes. Jiang Luo wasn’t hungry, but the smell was too tempting, and he ended up eating a bowl of the brothy noodles.
“She even makes shredded potatoes taste amazing,” Lu Youyi grumbled emotionally. “What the h*ll is that stuff we eat in the school cafeteria?”
“Our school’s just broke,” Ye Xun said. “You’re so rich, why don’t you have your family donate us a new cafeteria?”
“I’m rich?” Lu Youyi looked up, baffled, and tapped his designer watch—easily worth six figures. “I didn’t know that. I’m not interested in money.”
Ye Xun: “…”
Jiang Luo: “…”
Jiang Luo nearly spat on Lu Youyi out of frustration, but then his eyes caught the incense on the desk—and his expression changed. “The incense! It’s changed!”
The previously straight-rising smoke had suddenly twisted and turned, drifting toward the door.
Ye Xun and Lu Youyi immediately stood up. Ye Xun washed his hands, picked up the rice bowl with the incense, and started heading out. Lu Youyi pulled Jiang Luo into the middle and took up the rear.
But just as they exited, the smoke split into two streams—one drifting left, the other right.
Ye Xun looked left, then right. After a moment of silence, he asked, “Which way should we go?”
Lu Youyi casually said, “Left.”
Ye Xun: “What if that’s a trap laid by the ghost?”
Lu Youyi: “Then right.”
Ye Xun: “And if that’s the trap?”
Lu Youyi: “…”
Jiang Luo suggested, “Then why not split up?”
Ye Xun was silent for a long time, then shook his head. “Forget it. Let’s go left first.”
Jiang Luo turned to ask, “Does Ye Xun have decision-making anxiety?”
Lu Youyi nodded with a complicated expression. “Take it from someone with experience—never go shopping with him.”
In the middle of the night, the corridor lights were still brightly lit. As they followed the smoke trail upstairs, a sudden thump-thump sound echoed down.
It sounded like a ball bouncing down the stairs—each thud echoing louder than the last. In the dead of night, such a noise made the entire group freeze in their tracks.
Then, without warning, the stairway lights went out.
Total darkness engulfed them.
Lu Youyi’s voice trembled. “Ye Xun? Jiang Luo?”
Ye Xun calmly replied, “Mm.”
Jiang Luo answered, “Still here, still here.”
Lu Youyi felt a bit more at ease. “Why did the lights suddenly go out—”
His words were cut off abruptly.
Because the sound of the ball bouncing upstairs had suddenly stopped. After a moment of silence, it started again—this time approaching them at two or three times the previous speed.
Thump. Thump thump. Thump thump thump.
The ball rolled down rapidly, the sound becoming more and more urgent.
Lu Youyi felt a chill run down his spine and instinctively clutched Jiang Luo’s shirt. Jiang Luo chuckled, “Lu Youyi, how are you more scared than me?”
Lu Youyi trembled, “I’m afraid of the dark.”
Jiang Luo: “…” Fair enough.
While they talked, the sound of the ball had already reached the stairs just above them. Jiang Luo’s heartbeat sped up from the tension passed on by Lu Youyi. Just as he braced himself, the sound vanished again.
Silence returned.
But this silence was no comfort—it was the calm before the storm, chilling and unsettling.
Ye Xun suddenly said, “The incense smoke is drifting back.”
Lu Youyi asked, “You saw it?”
Ye Xun replied, “I smelled it.”
Which meant that just now, something had passed by in front of them.
“Let’s head back,” Jiang Luo licked his dry lips and stared into the darkness. “I remember the main power switch is in the stairwell. We should go check if the breaker tripped.”
The three of them turned around and cautiously retraced their steps.
Sure enough, the main switch was in the stairwell. Jiang Luo had a good memory and knew the layout. He felt around and said in disappointment, “It’s not the breaker—the power is out.”
The three of them stood there contemplating life when Jiang Luo’s ears twitched. He said sharply, “What’s that sound?”
A ring-ring-ring of a phone came from the end of the hallway.
Lu Youyi: “D*mn!”
They looked toward the source. Pitch black—completely shrouded in darkness. The longer they looked, the more it seemed something terrifying might be hiding there, ready to swallow them whole.
Ye Xun calmly walked toward it. “Someone pick up the phone. I’m holding the incense and can’t.”
Jiang Luo was shoved by Lu Youyi and reluctantly picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
The boss’s voice came from the other end, “Hello, hello? Is this Student Jiang?”
Jiang Luo felt like he’d just returned from the underworld. “Yes, it’s me. Boss, the power’s out in our building.”
“Yeah, I was just about to tell you,” the boss said apologetically. “I forgot to mention it during the day. They’ve been doing roadwork nearby lately, so the power’s unstable and might go out. The hotel’s backup power is in the utility room. Just flip the switch in there.”
Jiang Luo rubbed his forehead, exhausted. “Got it.”
Jiang Luo still remembered where the utility room was. They carefully felt their way there, holding on to each other’s clothes so no one tripped in the dark. Jiang Luo could feel Lu Youyi tugging harder and harder on his shirt—almost to the point of tearing it. “Lu Youyi, don’t pull so hard.”
Lu Youyi quickly said, “Okay, okay, got it.”
But after a few seconds, Jiang Luo still felt uncomfortable. “Did you really understand what I meant?”
He turned his head back—and accidentally stepped on someone’s foot.
He was about to apologize, but Lu Youyi didn’t react at all and instead said grumpily, “How did I not get it? Didn’t I lighten up?”
Jiang Luo’s words caught in his throat. A cold sweat broke out on the tip of his nose. “Lu Youyi, didn’t that hurt?”
Lu Youyi looked confused. “Hurt? What hurt?”
Jiang Luo went quiet. After a moment, he said, “Lu Youyi.”
Lu Youyi: “Yeah?”
Jiang Luo said quietly, “I think there’s one more person between us now.”
