Chapter 1: The Ghosts Were Waiting for Him

“The promotional poster is finally out? Gimme that, let me see who’s in it.”

“Who’s that last guy? He’s so sweet-looking, I totally ship it!”

“No way, is there actually someone who doesn’t know the entertainment industry’s most famous ‘Vase’? He has nothing but a pretty face, terrible acting, a variety show black hole—he played a winning hand of cards absolutely miserably.”

“Damn… I’m actually a bit jealous. When will someone ever praise me for having nothing but beauty? Sob.”

“Pei Liu, on a horror variety show? He’ll definitely be scared out of his wits and do nothing but cry. Haha.”

“As expected of Pei Liu, beauty that even anti-fans can’t find fault with. This is exactly what the production team wanted: fans drooling over him and antis chasing him with insults—all of it is pure traffic. As a passerby just here for the drama, I’m looking forward to it, lol.”

The netizens were heatedly discussing Heart-Pounding, a horror variety show that had gained immense popularity over the last two years.

Each season, five celebrity guests were invited to a gloomy place filled with the atmosphere of a ghost movie.

They were required to live there for ten days, finding ways to survive and escape while surrounded by ghosts.

Naturally, during this period, there was no shortage of ghosts appearing and guests screaming in terror.

The production team was very good at stirring up trouble, gripping the suspenseful atmosphere tightly and perfectly satisfying the audience’s preferences.

They didn’t just want horror; they also arranged a “haunted house script” like a movie.

The ghosts didn’t kill randomly; there was a story behind it that required the guests to dig deep.

That was where the entertainment value lay.

The guests were all celebrities, so first off, they were attractive.

Finding clues and deducing the truth showcased their wisdom and logical skills.

Encountering ghosts and screaming while running away provided comedic relief.

Male guests protecting female guests often sparked chemistry, creating a “suspension bridge effect” that made the audience passionately ship them.

Since the production team put so much effort into it, the audience could clearly tell; it was only natural for the show to become a hit.

Many netizens were fans of the show itself, watching not for any specific celebrity but simply because they liked the program.

Thus, Pei Liu’s inclusion sparked a heated debate.

After all, the title of “variety show black hole” wasn’t just talk, and rumors of Pei Liu being timid and afraid of the dark had circulated before.

They were afraid Pei Liu would hold everyone back and ruin a good show.

In reality, Pei Liu himself was also very worried.

To be more precise, it was the “other” Pei Liu.

At the very beginning, he hadn’t realized what was happening at all and thought he was being pranked.

However, the surrounding environment was very real, and he couldn’t find a single flaw.

After slowly gathering information, he realized he might have accidentally arrived in a parallel world.

Pei Liu was a firm materialist who didn’t believe in ghosts or gods and watched horror movies with a deadpan expression.

At the same time, he was quite interested in science fiction and had heard of the multiverse theory.

Perhaps a single different choice served as a node, splitting off into different parallel worlds.

In other worlds, there existed another version of himself with a different personality, identity, and life experience.

Dizzying darkness and a blurred consciousness.

He seemed to see, amidst a gray mist, countless multicolored spheres gathering, overlapping, and twisting.

They presented an indescribable sense of chaotic strangeness, as if that was the universe itself—a symbol of time and space, the master of all wisdom.

Countless giant eyes opened in the darkness, looking down at him, a tiny and fragile human.

Tinnitus, nausea, and a tingling scalp.

An indescribable danger.

Difficulty breathing; a surging sense of suffocation attacked him.

He instinctively wanted to retreat, but his body was out of control and unable to move.

He was manipulated by an invisible force, passing through a door and brushing past someone who looked exactly like him.

Moving in opposite directions, he walked toward the other person’s life and future…

Waking up, the person in the mirror still looked like him, but everything around him had changed significantly.

He spent a considerable amount of time walking through the house and checking his phone before he realized that in this world, he had chosen to become a celebrity.

It was very unexpected; he had never thought of doing such a thing.

Pei Liu hesitated for a moment before trying to call the parents of this world.

“Liu, what’s wrong?”

Hearing the familiar voice in his ear, Pei Liu’s tense fingers resting on his knees finally relaxed a little, giving him a sense of peace.

He chatted naturally with his parents about daily life, his eyes curving into a smile.

“Do you have enough money? Do you want me to transfer some to you?”

“Don’t work too hard, and take good care of yourself, okay?”

“It’s enough. Yes, I know.”

Pei Liu responded obediently and chatted for a while before hanging up.

He finally accepted the incredible situation before him.

What’s done is done; he might as well make the best of it.

For now, he could only live life on behalf of the other him, since he didn’t know if they would ever switch back.

Only… he didn’t know how to act at all, so would he really be okay?

Pei Liu lay on the sofa for a while before climbing up and, with a research-oriented mindset, used his computer to search for dramas the other him had acted in.

Then, he made a discovery.

The internet said he had peaked right at his debut.

The first drama he acted in was a campus series where he played the second male lead—the sickly “White Moonlight” in the female lead’s heart.

He had great looks, a clean temperament, a cold exterior, but was actually introverted and affectionate.

When he smiled, he looked even more pure and shy, making hearts flutter.

The campus drama didn’t have much investment and the plot was simple, but because of Pei Liu’s stunning, god-tier looks, it became an instant hit.

He wasn’t just the female lead’s White Moonlight; he became the White Moonlight in the hearts of the audience.

The second male lead tragically passed away in the end, leaving everyone heartbroken, and the audience transferred their feelings for the character onto the actor.

Pei Liu’s follower count exploded instantly.

Unfortunately, every role he took after that was a flop.

He was criticized for having “robotic acting,” always maintaining the same expression.

Netizens even analyzed that the only reason Pei Liu’s first role was so successful was because he was playing himself.

He himself was in poor health and somewhat sickly, and being cramped and unable to relax in front of the camera when he first debuted fit the green and timid nature of a secret crush.

More importantly, he had a flawless face full of aesthetic beauty, which gave him a huge advantage in romance dramas.

Pei Liu frowned as he watched.

Although the later dramas were indeed a bit cringe-worthy, seeing people online wildly insulting the other version of himself made him very unhappy.

There were many anti-fans sending extremely nasty private messages, insulting his ancestors and telling him to die.

He almost wanted to start a fight with them.

Fortunately, his rationality barely managed to pull him back.

He studied how to act and tried a cringe-worthy performance toward the air, frowning and clutching his chest while reciting melodramatic lines.

“You’ve been lying to me all this time?”

“How could you trample on my feelings like this? You’re so cruel; you have no heart!”

“Why! Why! Ahhh—”

Pei Liu did his best to perform sorrow and heartbreak, screaming in a breakdown, but it was useless.

Instead, he looked more like a groundhog.

Coincidentally, at that moment, a sound came from the entrance.

Someone opened the door and walked in, meeting eyes with Pei Liu, who was standing on the sofa.

“…”

The thing he feared most was a sudden silence in the air.

Pei Liu instantly felt so embarrassed he wanted to die, frozen there like a paused video.

After two seconds, he quickly jumped off the sofa and stood up straight as if nothing had happened just now.

“Sister Yu…” he said sheepishly.

His manager, Sister Yu, cleared her throat.

“You’re quite energetic.”

Pei Liu gave a forced laugh.

“Alright, didn’t we sign for a horror variety show earlier? Recording is about to start. I’ll take you for a pre-interview today.”

Pei Liu nodded, changed his clothes, and followed her.

When they arrived, he saw a group of staff members and cameras.

Pei Liu had never done this before and was worried about being exposed, so he couldn’t help but get nervous.

Seeing his state, the assistant director comforted him: “Don’t worry, it’s just a pre-interview. The questions are very simple.”

Pei Liu smiled at her, his eyes seemingly filled with fragmented starlight.

The assistant director froze, her heart suddenly skipping a beat.

No wonder Pei Liu was called a “White Moonlight.” This face and this smile were incredible—a precision strike to the heart. How could anyone not be moved?

The interview began, and the questions were indeed very ordinary.

“Do you think ghosts exist in this world?”

Pei Liu shook his head.

“No.”

The staff was a bit surprised.

“You think all those rumors about ghosts are fake?”

Pei Liu: “Yes. Rumors are usually spread by word of mouth, making them prone to exaggeration and distortion. Besides, there has never been any actual evidence proving the existence of ghosts. I still believe in science.”

“You do remember that this is a horror show, right?”

Pei Liu said subconsciously: “I remember, but aren’t the ghosts all just staff members in disguise?”

“…”

The interview couldn’t continue like this; the guest was tearing down the stage!

The staff didn’t give up and asked again: “In that case, are you confident that you won’t be afraid throughout the upcoming program?”

Pei Liu thought for a second and nodded seriously.

“Unless you show me a real ghost. That would count as a new species, wouldn’t it? Thinking about it, I’m actually quite looking forward to it.”

Those words were a bit arrogant.

No problem—our ghost NPCs aren’t pushovers either.

The trope of someone getting their face slapped never gets old!

Once Pei Liu was scared into screaming by the ghosts during the show, they would definitely insert this pre-interview clip in post-production, accompanied by the sound of slapping.

As soon as the interview finished, Sister Yu asked him: “Why would you answer like that? Aren’t you afraid of ghosts? Setting up this kind of persona is an easy way to fail and get insulted.”

Pei Liu hadn’t expected the version of himself in this world to be afraid of ghosts.

However, if he had to act scared during the recording, it would likely look very fake.

He said: “The ghosts are all played by people. I’m not afraid.”

Sister Yu glanced at his expression and, thinking he wanted to change, patted his shoulder.

“Whatever, you have your own ideas. When recording, be bold and proactive. Try to get more screen time and build good relationships with the other guests, but don’t get too close—you need to be wary of people. Also, even if you get scared by a ghost, hold it in and don’t cry. The anti-fans are all watching you.”

Pei Liu: “…I won’t cry.”

Sister Yu brushed him off dismissively: “Sure, sure.”

For the next two days, Pei Liu stayed home watching the first two seasons of Heart-Pounding to prepare for the recording.

****

On the day recording began.

Pei Liu took the production team’s car to the recording location.

The drive was long, and he accidentally fell asleep.

When he got out of the car, he was still a bit dazed.

A remote suburb, an abandoned villa—a gray-and-white European-style building with a pointed roof.

Dark green ivy was like the claws and hair of a vengeful spirit, densely covering almost an entire wall.

The villa’s door was wide open, the interior dimly lit.

One could vaguely see the main hall, where dark red traces resembling blood lay on the floor.

It exuded a hair-raising, eerie aura, as if it were impatiently waiting to devour every living person who entered.

Dusk is also known as the “Hour of Monsters,” the time when ghosts and gods are most likely to appear.

The evening glow spread across the horizon, and the red light of the setting sun spilled onto the dilapidated walls of the villa like thick blood.

As night fell, it took away the heat of the midsummer day, replaced by a chill that seeped into the gaps between bones.

A gust of cold wind blew against his face, swirling the dead leaves on the ground and making a rustling sound.

The sudden chill made Pei Liu sober up a bit.

He looked up at the villa and thought to himself that it really did have the feel of a horror movie.

In fact, at a window on the third floor, a curtain moved slightly.

A tall, slender figure was faintly visible.

Although the person vanished in the blink of an eye, the cold sensation of being watched from above lingered.

Pei Liu was somewhat surprised by the production team’s dedication, but he wasn’t afraid.

He retracted his gaze and pulled his suitcase forward.

The wheels rolling over the ground made a light friction sound, which was infinitely amplified in the silence, sounding exceptionally clear and piercing.

He passed through the rusted and mottled ornate gate and stepped into the haunted-house-like old villa step by step.

He didn’t know that inside the seemingly empty and spacious hall, the surroundings were crowded with ghosts.

Each one was pale and hideous, staring straight at him.

Their mouths were split open to their ears in grotesque smiles, welcoming his arrival. It was incredibly lively.

The ten days of living with ghosts had officially begun.