Chapter 3: Why Isn’t He Scared?!

The next day, Pei Liu was jolted awake by a scream.

He gave a start, scrambled out of bed, and blinked a few times to clear his head before jumping down and hurrying over in his slippers.

The scream had come from Tong Jiaqi.

She was wearing a nightgown, her slender frame trembling as she stood at her bedroom door.

“What happened?”

Tong Jiaqi shuddered and pointed into her room.

As Pei Liu and the others walked in, they saw a trail of blood-red child-sized footprints extending from the doorway all the way to the bedside.

There were even more footprints clustered by the bed, dense and overlapping as if someone had lingered there for a long time; a faint metallic scent of rust filled the air.

On the other side of the set, the director watched the monitors and praised: “Who did those footprints? Not bad, they have a great feel to them.”

The assistant director answered, though he was secretly a bit puzzled; in his memory, the footprints had looked a bit crude to the naked eye, yet the effect captured on camera was unexpectedly good.

Tong Jiaqi gripped Wu Kai’s arm tightly, her voice shaking as she said: “In the middle of the night, in a daze, I saw a child crouching by the bed watching me.”

“His face was so white, and his eyes were completely black. He was smiling at me… it was terrifying.”

“I really wanted to wake up, but my body wouldn’t move at all. I thought it was a dream, but then this morning, I saw these…”

Hearing her description, images instantly flashed in everyone’s minds, making their skin crawl.

Wu Kai tried his best to remain calm, saying dryly: “I was very hot during the first half of the night and couldn’t sleep, but later, I felt very cold, like I was lying in the snow. There was a constant wind blowing against my neck.”

Zhao Hai and Jian Yongge nodded; they had experienced the same thing.

Pei Liu was the only one who looked a bit bewildered, his black hair slightly messy and his face carrying the lingering sleepiness of someone who had just woken up, giving him a docile, youthful aura.

He only then realized that he was the only one who had slept well.

Obviously, this wasn’t the kind of thing he should say out loud.

So, he suppressed the urge to yawn and nodded along, indicating that he was the same.

Ultimately, everyone decided to return to their rooms to wash up before discussing further.

Pei Liu really didn’t think a trail of footprints was anything to be afraid of; instead, he first thought of the staff members sneaking into Tong Jiaqi’s room in the middle of the night to stamp footprints while she slept.

The image was actually quite funny when he thought about it.

However, on second thought, that behavior seemed inappropriate.

The production team probably used some special pigment that was invisible at first and only revealed itself after a few hours.

Pei Liu let out a yawn and walked toward his room, closely surrounded by a group of invisible ghosts, which made the air very cool and refreshing.

After finishing his morning routine, he headed downstairs.

The stairs in the villa were made of wood, worn down by time and emitting a faint scent of decay.

With every step, the floorboards emitted a tooth-aching creak, making one worry if they might suddenly snap and collapse.

Breakfast had already been laid out on the dining table by the staff, and it was still hot.

Pei Liu arrived neither early nor late, but those who had arrived first hadn’t started eating yet.

They seemed still immersed in the morning’s terror, especially Tong Jiaqi.

Pei Liu thought for a moment, poured a glass of hot water, and handed it to her.

“Drink something hot first; you’ll feel better.”

Tong Jiaqi thanked him as she took it, cradling the warm cup.

As the heat spread through her fingertips, she took a sip and indeed felt a bit more comfortable.

Then, Pei Liu poured a cup for everyone else before sitting down and taking a sip of warm water himself.

Actually, he wanted to eat breakfast, but since not everyone had arrived, it wasn’t polite to start first.

Fortunately, it wasn’t long before Jian Yongge and Zhao Hai arrived.

Pei Liu expectantly opened the lid and began to enjoy his breakfast: a bowl of steaming hot beef brisket ramen.

At first, it was very quiet, with only the sound of slurping noodles.

When celebrities record a show, they can’t just eat without talking.

Zhao Hai was the first to speak, his tone calm and carrying the comforting air of an elder.

“Actually, we don’t need to be too afraid. Have you heard a certain saying?”

“Believe it and it exists; disbelieve and it’s gone. There’s a folk saying that every person has three fires on them: one on the crown of the head, and one on each shoulder.”

“When walking at night, you shouldn’t turn your head sharply, as it’s easy to blow the fires out. If you encounter a situation, you can scratch the top of your head to make the fire burn brighter.”

Hearing this, Wu Kai subconsciously scratched his head, but then realized no one else was doing it.

Feeling like a fool, he immediately retracted his hand.

Zhao Hai continued: “Legend says that ghosts cannot harm people at will, especially those with strong yang energy and healthy bodies.”

“Ghosts can only use terrifying illusions to scare people first. When a person is afraid, their spirit becomes weak, and their yang energy fluctuates, making it easy for evil spirits to enter.”

“Only then is it easier for ghosts to attack humans, devour their souls, and occupy their bodies to run rampant in the world of the living. Therefore, if your will is firm and you do not fear ghosts or believe in their existence, you will generally be fine.”

Jian Yongge praised: “Teacher Zhao, you know so much.”

Tong Jiaqi and Wu Kai’s expressions softened, and they voiced their admiration.

Pei Liu nodded while eating his noodles, managing both tasks perfectly.

“However,” Jian Yongge mused, “the idea that ‘it exists if you believe it’ is a form of idealism. If ghosts are an objective reality, they wouldn’t change based on our will. Whether we believe or not shouldn’t have any effect, right?”

Zhao Hai froze for a moment, then laughed.

“What you say is also correct.”

Discussing ghosts through philosophy was quite interesting.

Pei Liu joined in: “Matter determines consciousness. So, until we actually see a ghost and confirm it really is a ghost, we should maintain a skeptical attitude. There’s no need to be afraid.”

“Come to think of it, I’ve never seen a ghost in all my years.”

Tong Jiaqi teased: “The way you say it makes it sound like you’re actually looking forward to it?”

Pei Liu modestly held up his hand, leaving a tiny gap between his thumb and index finger.

“Just a little bit. If the ghost is very ugly, I wouldn’t really want to see it.”

Everyone has a bit of a superficial side, after all.

After this conversation, the atmosphere lightened, and they briefly forgot they were in a haunted house.

But a large crowd of invisible ghosts was squeezed around them, lively enough to throw a party.

The folk legends Zhao Hai mentioned weren’t entirely baseless.

Ghosts indeed cannot harm the living at will.

When Pei Liu first entered the villa, many ghosts had their eyes on him.

This was because Pei Liu exuded the fragrance of flesh and blood, a scent so alluring that to a ghost, he was like a meaty bone to a starving dog.

Furthermore, the most miraculous thing was that Pei Liu’s soul was unique; it didn’t seem to fit perfectly with his body.

Most people’s souls stay tucked away inside, but a portion of Pei Liu’s soul seemed to leak out—clumsy and slow, as if it would fall out with a single bump.

This made the ghosts salivate, wanting nothing more than to pounce and swallow his soul in one bite to take his place.

Unfortunately, Pei Liu didn’t believe in ghosts and wasn’t afraid of them at all.

As a result, they couldn’t even touch him, let alone eat him.

From last night until now, the ghosts had tried every possible way to scare Pei Liu.

Blowing on his neck, flickering lightbulbs, hair, bloody faucets, severed heads, standing by his bed at night watching him sleep—all the methods that were so effective in horror movies were useless.

When the yin energy was strongest at midnight, they even made sounds of knocking on doors, crashing cabinets, and rolling glass beads.

Pei Liu had been woken up once, grumbling dissatisfiedly as he half-opened his eyes.

The ghosts’ eyes glowed with an eerie green light, thinking there was hope. They were incredibly excited.

Two seconds later, Pei Liu’s head tilted, and he closed his eyes to fall back asleep.

He had absolutely no intention of being scared by the noises or getting up to investigate and make eye contact with them.

The fat prize right in front of them had slipped away!

The ghosts were so angry they nearly came back to life, and they began to beat each other up violently.

The ghostly energy surged, fierce and malevolent.

They weren’t a unified group to begin with; they were competitors fighting for meat, and no one held back.

Fangs and green faces, severed limbs, eyeballs and blood—everything was flying everywhere. It was as rowdy as a midnight dance party in a graveyard.

And Pei Liu, completely unaware, curled up in his blanket and slept soundly, his brows relaxed, feeling cool and comfortable.

The ghosts couldn’t understand it.

He was clearly a sickly human with yang energy that wasn’t exactly overflowing—how was he so difficult to deal with?

As Pei Liu ate his noodles, a glass on the table slowly moved, almost imperceptibly.

With great effort, it reached the edge.

Just as it was about to fall and shatter, Pei Liu looked up. His physical reflexes were faster than his brain, and he reached out to steady it.

He muttered to himself: “That was close; I almost knocked it over.”

The ghost standing beside him roared: “It was me! It was me! I moved it!”

Dammit!

The lightbulb on the ceiling flickered.

A hanged ghost was suspended from the chandelier, its body dangling in mid-air.

Its head slowly lowered until it was face-to-face with Pei Liu, its pale face inches away.

It stared at him and grinned, revealing rows of sharp, white teeth.

Pei Liu picked up a piece of beef brisket and popped it into his mouth.

The beef was stewed until tender, the broth was rich and fragrant, and the noodles were chewy. He ate with great relish.

The ghost in front of him watched, drool pouring out of its mouth.

Was this human… really not doing this on purpose?!

Jian Yongge was eating absent-mindedly.

He happened to look up at Pei Liu and saw a blurry, greenish-white ghost figure beside him.

Startled, he suddenly choked and began to cough violently.

Wu Kai slapped his back twice.

“Are you okay?”

He was strong, and his slaps made Jian Yongge’s body sink, feeling as if his internal organs had been flattened.

After coughing for a while, Jian Yongge’s back felt tingly. He looked at Pei Liu again, but this time, he saw nothing.

…Had he just been seeing things?

Jian Yongge frowned, forcing down the fear in his heart.

As soon as he turned his head, he met the gaze of a female ghost with half her face rotted away.

This time, however, Jian Yongge had no reaction and simply lowered his head to continue eating his noodles.

The rotting female ghost looked disappointed: “You didn’t see me? What a pity.”

“Still, he was able to see the hanged ghost just now, so he must be guilty and afraid of ghosts.”

“He looks quite a bit worse than that pretty living human, but he’ll do.”

The female ghost climbed onto Jian Yongge’s back, her mangled hands wrapping around his neck and slowly tightening.

Jian Yongge shivered from the cold.

The female ghost lowered her head to rub against his face, smiling with ultimate sweetness.

If one ignored the falling pieces of flesh and the bloodstains, the image actually looked like a pair of intimate lovers.

After breakfast, it was time to start looking for clues again.

The villa was huge, and searching every corner would take a lot of time.

Zhao Hai suggested: “Efficiency will be low if we all stay together. How about we compromise? We can separate slightly but stay close enough that if anything happens, we can call out for help and others can reach us in time.”

Essentially, they would look for clues in adjacent rooms, and the others agreed.

They looked for seemingly useful clues while also keeping an eye out for locked doors or cabinets.

They still didn’t know what the key from yesterday was for.

Pei Liu searched for a long while without finding anything.

Suddenly, he remembered the figure he had seen before entering the villa: the room on the east side of the third floor.

It wasn’t far away, anyway.

Pei Liu set off toward it.

Many ghosts surrounded him, carrying ill intent as they closely followed.

The ghosts were having meetings and fighting each other like crazy, arguing over how to scare Pei Liu and how to divide his delicious soul and body.

Ultimately, they couldn’t reach a definite conclusion.

No one was willing to lose out, and they scrambled forward, terrified of missing out on this “Tang Monk” meat.

The ghosts could honestly say they hadn’t worked this hard even back when they took the National College Entrance Exam.

If they’d had this kind of persistence back then, they could have gotten into top universities in a heartbeat.