Chapter 11: After Sleeping Naked Beside a Ghost

The warmth of the water made him sluggish, and with his head feeling heavy and dizzy, it was likely he wouldn’t wake up until the water was completely freezing, he caught a chill, or accidentally inhaled water and started choking.

For now, he was simply unable to get up, his body soft and limp as he lay half-submerged in the tub.

The spirits coveting his delicious soul took this opportunity to slip in silently, taking advantage of the deep night, the heavy yin energy, and his vulnerable, sleeping state to try and strike fear into him once more.

The faucet dripped a single drop of bloody water, creating a sudden, abrupt plink in the vast, quiet bathroom.

The drain cover began to vibrate, and black strands of hair pushed through the gaps, emerging continuously—long, endless strands that crawled toward the bathtub like something without an end.

The bathroom was filled with mist, and as the steam rose, it condensed into water droplets on the ceiling, turning the view hazy and blurred.

Then, like ripples on a pond, a giant eye suddenly emerged; the pupil rolled, turning toward the bathtub to stare fixedly at the living person within.

Scarlet blood vessels spread across it, and the giant eye narrowed as if laughing in the shadows.

It began to move toward Pei Liu…

Just then, the bathroom door swung open.

Black mist invaded, thick and overwhelming.

The moment the pale, handsome man appeared, the bloody water, the long hair, and the giant eye all vanished simultaneously, fleeing with desperate speed.

The man was shrouded in black energy, as if condensed from thick fog, exuding a sense of indescribable danger.

Pei Liu remained unaware as the tall man approached the bathtub, stood to the side, and looked down at him with cold, impassive eyes for quite a while.

Pei Liu’s eyes were closed, his fair cheeks flushed a light pink by the heat, his face damp with water that slid down his temples to bead on his chin, trembling as if about to fall.

In his sleep, his body unconsciously slipped, and the water that had been at his neck line now completely submerged his chin; that droplet of water instantly disappeared into the depths.

He continued to slide downward until his lips touched the water line.

At that moment, a pair of pale hands reached into the tub, passed behind his neck, gripped his shoulders, and hooked under his knees, lifting him up.

Pei Liu’s body hung in the air, the water streaming off his skin and back into the tub like a wet rain.

The shadow paused, feeling the strange, unfamiliar sensation of making extensive contact with a warm, living person.

The hand resting on the back of his neck kept getting soaked by his wet hair, and the man’s own clothes grew damp, clinging to him.

The shadow’s expression remained unchanged as he carried the person out.

In an instant, the dampness on his clothes vanished; even the water on Pei Liu’s body seemed to be wiped away, leaving him feeling refreshed and only faintly warm.

Pei Liu slept soundly, devoid of any wariness, and even subconsciously shifted, finding a more comfortable position in the other’s arms.

The shadow looked down at him, stepped out of the bathroom, and placed him casually on the bed.

As soon as Pei Liu touched the mattress, he instinctively pulled the quilt over himself and let out an involuntary sneeze, feeling cold.

He curled up, sleeping only on one side of the bed, leaving the other half empty.

The shadow didn’t hesitate, lying down in the empty space with a sense of complete entitlement.

Not being human, he lacked human concerns and thoughts; he was capricious and unrestrained.

He had no need for sleep, so he simply lay there without closing his eyes.

After an unknown amount of time, he turned, pushed aside the quilt, reached out to pull Pei Liu closer, and prepared to feed him his aura once again.

Pei Liu was jerked over, his back hitting a broad chest, before being turned around to face the shadow.

The shadow stared at him for a long time, his palm pressed against Pei Liu’s face, stroking it in a leisurely, deliberate manner.

Pei Liu seemed to sense something, furrowed his brows, let out a grunt of dissatisfaction, and tilted his head to avoid the hand.

But the moment he moved, the mist spilling from the shadow’s fingertips coiled around him, pinning him in place.

He was like prey trapped in a spider’s web.

Except, ordinary prey wouldn’t have the ability to eat the web itself.

The chain-like black mist tightened around Pei Liu’s chin, forming a small black cage that held him steady.

Whatever touched his lips disappeared bit by bit into the gap between them.

The shadow watched calmly until Pei Liu had consumed every wisp of the black mist.

In his dream, Pei Liu had feasted on a grand banquet, and even outside the dream, the corners of his mouth curved upward in satisfaction.

He unconsciously stretched out his body, kicking at the quilt.

He moved even closer to the shadow, nearly burying himself in the other’s chest and kissing the protruding Adam’s apple.

Pei Liu and the shadow slept soundly, separated by a subtle, intimate distance.

The quilt covered only a small part of him, leaving his body bare.

Before long, Pei Liu felt cold and moved toward the heat source, shrinking back into the quilt.

Yet, an arm suddenly lay across his waist, pulling him back and forcing him to press tightly against the cold chest.

Pei Liu’s long, dense eyelashes fluttered; his body felt cold, as if he were about to wake up.

But he was too exhausted, his eyelids impossibly heavy, and after moving a few times, he drifted back to sleep, only instinctively grabbing the quilt to pull it back over himself.

The shadow sleeping beside him, without an inch of distance, was also covered by the quilt.

The specter had no need for it, but he didn’t cast it aside, remaining in a posture of circling the person, inspecting him in detail and claiming him as his own, as if clutching a pet.

And so, the night passed until dawn.

Pei Liu opened his eyes, but he remained sleepy, wanting to linger in bed for a nap.

But with work to do, he had to climb up reluctantly.

When he threw off the quilt, he was shocked to discover that he wasn’t wearing any clothes.

His eyes widened abruptly, and he began to think back.

But his final memory stopped at the bathroom, having fallen asleep while soaking in the tub.

How did he get to the bed?

‘Was I so exhausted that I climbed out of the bathtub in a daze, crawled to the bed on instinct, and went to sleep? Without wearing any clothes?’

…He really was impressive.

Pei Liu admired himself, got up, grabbed his clothes, and put them on one by one.

As he lifted his leg to put on his trousers, his heart suddenly skipped a beat: Wait, weren’t there cameras in the guest rooms?

It’s over. It’s over. It’s over.

He pulled on his pants, squatted down abruptly, and covered his face, screaming internally and wishing he could die on the spot.

Social death was the same as being dead.

Since entering this haunted house, others had been scared countless times, their emotions exhausted to the point of heart failure.

Pei Liu, however, was only now experiencing a true roller coaster of emotions; he didn’t even have the courage to walk out that door, wishing he could dig a hole and bury himself right there.

The shadow beneath his feet silently extended a wisp of black mist, which nimbly reached his side.

Its tip was slightly rounded, like the stamen of a flower, and it tentatively, cautiously, gave his hand a light touch.

As if perceiving its owner’s distress, it approached, patting and rubbing him with its “paws” to comfort its owner like a pet.

Pei Liu sensed something, slightly uncovering his face, and looked at his hand with confusion.

His face was revealed, flushed a deep crimson from the social death, his ears also bright red.

The black mist seemed excited and rubbed against his face again.

Pei Liu discovered nothing, and as the time grew later, to avoid others coming up to find him, he entered the bathroom to drain the tub and wash up as quickly as possible.

He hurried to glance at the mirror to ensure his face looked normal before leaving the room to go downstairs.

The moment he entered the dining room, he met Jian Yongge’s gaze.

Jian Yongge smiled and said: “You’re here! We were just waiting for you to have breakfast.”

Pei Liu: “Sorry, I’m late.”

Tong Jiaqi said: “Not late. You weren’t feeling well, right? Did you sleep well last night?”

Pei Liu had come down in a rush, his black hair fluffy and slightly messy, carrying a sense of just-woken-up confusion, his smile clean: “It was pretty good, just a bit cold.”

“Cold?” Wu Kai was surprised. “It’s summer now; you didn’t catch a cold, did you?”

As he said this, he deliberately ignored the fact that he had been freezing the previous nights as well—due to the heavy yin energy.

He had been hypnotizing himself, telling himself there were no ghosts in the world and to believe in science; that he felt cold simply because his body was weak.

Men hate being told they aren’t “up to the task” most of all.

But as long as the ghosts didn’t come after him, Wu Kai didn’t mind being called a “mother” by a ghost, let alone being told he wasn’t strong; he was very willing to let things go.

Once he said this, Zhao Hai and the others began observing Pei Liu’s complexion.

“Your face looks a bit flushed; could you have a fever?”

Pei Liu immediately thought of something, stiffened, and shook his head: “…I’m fine.”

He hurriedly changed the subject.

Jian Yongge watched the others surrounding Pei Liu with concern, lowered his head, and curled his lips into a cold sneer.

It’s just a little discomfort. How pretentious.

Pei Liu felt a malevolent gaze that made him uncomfortable, but when he looked up, he found Jian Yongge looking down at his porridge, not watching him at all.

As they ate breakfast and chatted, they naturally began discussing the events here.

Zhao Hai: “I heard several cameras have broken; could it be such a coincidence? This villa really is a bit strange.”

“Which cameras?”

“Ours were all broken; they went dark shortly after being turned on last night. During the day, in the master bedroom and the burned room… sometimes the image isn’t clear.”

Zhao Hai deliberately lowered his voice, making Wu Kai and Tong Jiaqi feel nervous.

Pei Liu, however, was exceptionally different: he breathed a secret sigh of relief.

I don’t have to worry about social death!

His mood brightened significantly.

He was very grateful that Zhao Hai had brought him this piece of good news, and he smiled in natural relaxation.

Zhao Hai froze: “What are you smiling at, Little Pei?”

Pei Liu: “These wontons are delicious.”

He scooped up a wonton from the bowl; it was round, the skin paper-thin and translucent, revealing the whole shrimp inside.

One bite, and it was filled with fresh fragrance.

The taste was indeed excellent.

The production team was quite conscientious when it came to food, that much was undeniable.

But in such a haunted house atmosphere, even the best food would be discounted.

Pei Liu, however, still had the heart to enjoy the gourmet meal.

Zhao Hai thought to himself that his mental state was truly extraordinary.

After breakfast and a short rest, it was back to business as usual.

The only difference was that previously they had been looking for potentially useful clues, but now their goal was very clear: a newborn baby.

Just thinking about it made one feel unwell.

Was the baby a corpse, or a ghost infant?

Also, it was easy to recall the black card they had seen when they first arrived at the villa, which had a pattern of a baby crawling on it, followed by trails of dark red blood.

Are we going to see such a terrifying scene later?

Ghost infant horror themes weren’t rare—crawling out of a mother’s body, a bloody mass of flesh, ghostly and eerie, killing people without restraint.

“There really is no free lunch in the world,” Wu Kai lamented.

If you want a ghost’s help, you have to pay the price.

They searched for a long time without any results, though they were scared several times by the production team’s elaborate setups.

Pei Liu lagged behind the group, walking slower and slower, feeling a sore throat, cold hands and feet, and a tightness in his chest.

Very unluckily, he really was sick.

He suspected it was because he had fallen asleep in the tub yesterday and caught a chill.

However, it wasn’t severe; he figured he could power through today’s recording and take some medicine during the meal.

Pei Liu felt exhausted, had no energy, and didn’t want to wander around aimlessly, so he suggested: “Why don’t we try to lure the ghost infant out?”

The others froze, swallowing their saliva in nervousness: “…How?”

Pei Liu tried to pull himself together: “There are quite a few toys in the nursery; we can find a rattle or something and call the baby’s nickname, Chaochao.”

He had learned the nickname from the diary.

It sounded like a feasible method.

They did as he said; to increase their chances of success, everyone grabbed a toy.

Jian Yongge took the lead, walking at the front with a firm and brave expression.

Pei Liu lagged lazily at the back, forming a sharp contrast.

In the silent, empty corridor, there were only the sounds of them calling out in turns and the noise of the toys.

Thump, thump, thump.

The pellet hit the drum surface again and again, quite eerie.

Wu Kai couldn’t help but shiver; the ghost hadn’t appeared yet, but they were already shaken by the strange atmosphere.

After walking for over half an hour, there was still no response.

Jian Yongge stopped and looked back: “Is this method useless? I feel like we’ve wasted our time.”

Tong Jiaqi glanced at Pei Liu and said carelessly: “Maybe, but nobody knows if it’ll work unless we try; if it doesn’t, we can just switch tactics.”

Pei Liu’s breathing became heavier; he closed his eyes, then opened them again, his voice slightly raspy: “Stop.”

Everyone looked at him.

Pei Liu continued: “Do you hear… the baby crying?”

They paused, subconsciously softening their breathing, not making a single sound as they tilted their heads to listen.

They actually heard a faint sound of an infant crying.

It was very shrill.

And, it was coming from beneath their feet.