Chapter 34: The Shadow That Escaped

Watching his retreating back grow further and further away, Xie Wuyu’s eyes darkened. He stood in the shadows, blocking out all the light, as if anyone who came close would be pulled into the darkness, never to escape.

The released ghosts surged forward like monsters let out of their cages—dense, relentless, and unbelievably fast as they chased the living out the door.

Hearing the roars, Pei Liu’s heart tightened, and he ran even faster, finally about to reach the ornate gate.

The ghosts opened their bloody maws, their skin swollen and uneven as if bugs were crawling underneath. With bruised and blackened hands, they lunged fiercely at Pei Liu and Wu Kai, who were trailing behind.

They dove forward desperately, their toes mere millimeters from the ghost hands, narrowly escaping as they tumbled awkwardly to the ground. But they had finally made it out of the villa.

Tong Jiaqi and Zhao Hai helped them up, retreating cautiously.

The horde of ghosts howled and shrieked. The ornate gate acted as a barrier separating two worlds; the spirits couldn’t take a single step beyond it, left only with impotent rage as they stared at Pei Liu and drooled.

Realizing this, Wu Kai and the others breathed a sigh of relief.

At that moment, explosions erupted above their heads.

Pop, pop, pop.

Brightly colored ribbons and confetti showered down like snow.

Pei Liu stood frozen in place. A few pieces of confetti landed in his slightly messy black hair, making a stray strand stick up.

Only then did they realize it was the production team staff setting off party poppers, their faces beaming with congratulatory smiles.

“Congratulations on successfully escaping the villa!”

A row of fireworks on the ground sprayed bright flames, adding to the festive atmosphere.

Wu Kai and the others held hands and cheered: “Wow!” Their joy was genuine.

Snapping back to reality, Pei Liu joined in the cheering, his expression very sincere.

Finally, liberation!

Who wouldn’t be happy to leave this hellhole?

Outside the gate, the humans were celebrating; inside, the ghosts gripped the rusty iron bars, screaming like groundhogs, staging a scene of “tears behind bars.”

The stark contrast in the atmosphere made it obvious that the joys and sorrows of humans and ghosts are not intertwined.

Pei Liu smiled, subconsciously ignoring the chilling gaze piercing his back like needles.

He didn’t look back, thinking to himself: These ghosts are earthbound spirits, confined to the villa. They can’t come out.

After cheering, Pei Liu asked the staff: “Can we go now?”

The staff member paused and reminded them: “Besides the key, you got something else, didn’t you?”

If he hadn’t mentioned it, they really would have forgotten.

Tong Jiaqi picked up the file folder in her hand and pulled out the letter paper.

The group gathered around to read.

The handwriting belonged to two people: one delicate and soft, the other bold and vigorous.

From the contents, they were pen pals who initially didn’t know each other. They went from strangers to acquaintances, their minds connecting until they became the closest of friends, sharing all their hidden secrets.

“My sister is distancing herself from me; she fell in love with a bad man. I tried to advise her, but she told me to mind my own business, hit me, and pushed me to the ground. My heart hurt, I had an episode, but she didn’t see it and just left me there. My sister would never treat me like this before. My heart aches.”

“Do you want me to help you kill her? —Z”

“No, of course not. I love my sister the most. From the moment we were born into this world, we were one entity. Whenever I opened my eyes, I could see my sister, and I was so happy. You must understand how I feel, right? You are my soulmate; no one in the world understands me better than you do. Not even my parents, not even my sister, can compare to you.”

“Okay, I’ll listen to you. I’ll be good to your sister too.”

“I want to ask you for a favor; only you can help me. The man my sister likes really is a bad man. After meeting me only twice, he actually started pursuing me. I agreed to him. My sister broke off all ties with me. But… soon, you will hear news of my death. But don’t worry, this is my own choice. I only have one wish: I hope you can help me take care of my sister.”

“You’re going to commit suicide?! No! You can’t!”

The letters ended there, with no further correspondence.

Tucked in the middle was a piece of paper, which fell lightly to the ground like a feather.

It looked very familiar. Even before picking it up, they recognized it.

It was the drawing Pei Liu had received from the ghost child earlier, signed by Z.

Previously, they thought the nanny had drawn the older sister, but seeing the signature on the letters and the contents, they suddenly understood.

“So he was drawing the younger sister. No wonder his expression was so gentle, and no wonder he called the younger sister a goddess in the video and smiled so strangely.” Tong Jiaqi realized, connecting everything, which explained some of the plot holes.

“The older sister killing her was probably all planned by her. She even used the nanny to willingly do her bidding after her death. Her mind was truly twisted.”

It took Wu Kai a while to wrap his head around it before blurting out in shock: “f*ck! So the younger sister was the ultimate mastermind behind the scenes? She planned everything from the start?!”

The staff members listened to their discussion with satisfaction, feeling the plot twists were arranged quite well, completely surpassing their expectations.

Pei Liu didn’t say anything. With little sense of involvement, he stepped aside and quietly asked again: “Can we go now?”

The staff member: “…”

It’s obvious he really wants to get off work.

Tong Jiaqi noticed this and silently raised her hand: “Director, I want to leave too. This place is too creepy.”

As soon as she spoke, a gust of cold wind swept past, chilling everyone to the bone.

Wu Kai, Zhao Hai, and Jian Yongge all raised their hands in agreement.

Pei Liu suggested: “How about we change locations for the wrap-up?”

The staff member glanced at the dilapidated villa, couldn’t help but shudder, and silently raised their hand too in full agreement: “…Okay.”

And so, the group got into the cars, and the production team’s convoy left the villa one by one.

As the scenery retreated outside the window, Pei Liu took one last look and vaguely saw a tall, slender black figure standing behind a window of the haunted house, glaring coldly at him.

This scene was very similar to when he first arrived at the villa to start filming. But the gaze now was much more terrifying—it felt tangible, capable of piercing and scorching his body.

He immediately retracted his gaze, turned his head to the side, and closed his eyes to rest.

He had escaped that hellhole; he shouldn’t think about it anymore.

He would return to his normal life and properly study socialist core values.

There are no ghosts, there are no ghosts, there are no ghosts.

Important things must be repeated three times—even ten thousand times wouldn’t be too much.

The staff member in charge of the extras settled their pay as they walked out through the ornate gate.

The final scene with the ghost horde required many actors, so they hired quite a few extras, many of whom were unfamiliar faces. They initially worried about their acting skills, but the result was unexpectedly good. It felt less like a variety show and more like a movie shoot.

The extras walked out of the gate one after another. The malicious expressions on their faces stalled, turning blank and dazed, before they slowly regained some vitality.

…We’re done?

They realized this job was finished incredibly fast, as if it ended as soon as it began. But this was a good thing; they could collect their pay and rush to the next set.

The assistant director looked at the departing extras and muttered in confusion: “Are there only this many extras? It looked so spectacular when we were filming just now.”

He didn’t know that real ghosts had mixed in with the extras.

And after they left.

A tall, slender black figure also walked out of the villa, as if taking a leisurely stroll in a courtyard. As he passed through the ornate gate, he wasn’t confined like the other ghosts; he easily walked right out.

The entity lifted his eyes, glancing indifferently in the direction Pei Liu had left.

Black mist curled up, and his figure dissipated like smoke, leaving no trace behind.

A little girl followed, running to the gate. Taking advantage of a lingering wisp of black mist, she tentatively stretched her short leg out at the boundary. Realizing she could actually leave, her eyes lit up, and she ran out happily. The dog followed, barking and spinning in circles.

Meanwhile.

Pei Liu finished the final wrap-up content, officially concluding the show’s recording, and returned to his apartment.

His manager, Sister Yu, was in a great mood and praised him: “I asked around; the director is very satisfied with you and said you performed extremely well. Once the show airs, your fan base will definitely grow. I watched a bit, and it was quite scary. You’ve worked hard; take a few days off to rest. Then I’ll pick you up for an audition. Director Chen has a very good role. Initially, I thought it wasn’t suitable for you, but now I think you can give it a try.”

Pei Liu was exhausted, his eyes barely open, so it’s unknown how much he actually heard.

Seeing him like this, Sister Yu decided not to bother him anymore and said: “You’re so tired, I won’t say anymore. Get some sleep first. Do you want the assistant to get you some food?”

Pei Liu lazily shook his head and mumbled.

Sister Yu smiled: “Then I’m leaving. Go sleep in your room, and remember to eat. Don’t sleep until you lose track of time.”

While changing her shoes at the entryway, she smiled and added: “I was initially worried your ‘fearless’ persona would crash and burn, but you were actually that brave. I underestimated you. The NPCs the production team hired were also too dedicated; if it were me, I really couldn’t have handled it.”

Then came the sound of the door closing, and the clicking of high heels gradually faded away.

Pei Liu lay face-down on the sofa, sprawled out like a soft pancake, abandoning all his image.

His ears heard her, but it took a long while for his brain to slowly process the words.

What “brave”? My persona collapsed a long time ago. Sister Yu definitely hasn’t seen the later parts…

The recording is over, but who knows what the broadcast will look like. However, the production team seemed to act quite normal; they probably didn’t capture any ghosts on camera. Let’s hope so, otherwise, it would be too terrifying.

Pei Liu lay there, far too lazy to get up and return to his bedroom. His consciousness slowly slipped into darkness as he fell into a deep sleep.

In his pocket, the forgotten cloth doll fell out, hit the floor, and rolled twice. It landed face up. The doll was crude and unrefined, with obvious stitching marks, and its black button eyes gleamed with a faint, cold light. The doll’s hand suddenly twitched, as if trying to crawl up.

At that moment, a dangerous, overwhelmingly powerful aura swept over. The sky above the building darkened, as if black clouds were pressing down on the city.

In an instant, all the ghosts in the city grew restless, fleeing in panic and unease.

But after a short while, the aura faded, like a drop of water merging into the surface of a lake. After the ripples passed, it returned to calm. Yet, no one knew if there were surging undercurrents beneath, ready to swallow everything.

Black mist passed through the door, silently infiltrating like a massive net. It tightly entangled itself, trapping the person lying on the sofa within it, forever unable to escape.

And Pei Liu, completely oblivious, continued to sleep soundly, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks.