Chapter 9: Whispers Behind the Wallpaper

That night, Pei Liu had another dream.

A giant snake coiled tightly around him, causing a sharp pain in his waist and making it difficult to breathe, as if it intended to strangle him.

He let out a pained sound, but then the snake suddenly vanished, and as he lost his support and plummeted from mid-air toward the ground, a ball of black mist caught him.

It was formless yet soft, pulling him deep into it like a muddy, viscous swamp from which he could not climb out.

He tried to push himself up, but his hands met only empty space, and he collapsed back down.

The black mist coiled around him expertly, strand by strand, like chains or countless arms trapping him—grabbing his hands, his legs, his shoulders, his waist, and even covering his face.

He was wrapped tightly from head to toe, constantly being dragged downward into the abyss.

A wave of intense weightlessness panicked him, and his leg twitched uncontrollably, causing him to wake up.

It was already daylight.

Pei Liu lay there with his eyes open, staring blankly at the ceiling, not yet fully awake.

He couldn’t recall what he had dreamed about last night, but his heart was racing, and he knew it hadn’t been a pleasant dream.

He pushed himself up to sit, only to discover that his entire body was aching; it wasn’t a severe pain, but a persistent, nagging soreness that was incredibly tiresome.

He couldn’t help but frown; did he have some sort of strange illness?

He instinctively reached for his phone to check, but grabbed only thin air before remembering that the production team had confiscated it.

‘I hope it’s not some terminal disease.’

Pei Liu worried to himself while walking into the bathroom to wash up.

He was distracted while brushing his teeth, and as he raised his hand, his shirt lifted, revealing a glimpse of his lean, fair waist.

He caught a glimpse of something unusual in the mirror and turned to look properly; there was a bruise there.

Pei Liu felt a surge of confusion and reached out to press it, wincing at the pain.

‘Could it be that I was restless in my sleep and rolled onto the floor, bumping into something?’

He pondered for a few seconds, pulled his shirt back down, finished washing up, and then took his clothes off for a closer look; there was a symmetrical bruise on the other side of his waist as well.

After changing clothes, he went downstairs and retrieved yesterday’s first-aid kit, planning to apply some ointment to help the bruising fade faster.

Wu Kai saw him applying the medicine and asked curiously: “Why are you injured?”

Pei Liu gave his best guess: “I’m not sure, maybe I was restless in my sleep and bumped into something.”

Wu Kai thought about it—sometimes people did end up with unexplained bruises without knowing where they had hit themselves.

However, Pei Liu’s bruises were quite severe and covered a larger area, looking suspiciously like the marks left by a man’s large palm.

The group ate breakfast as usual.

Jian Yongge’s complexion was even worse than yesterday, as if he hadn’t slept at all.

The others offered a few words of concern, but it was mostly out of courtesy.

If this had been the previous two days, Jian Yongge would have done something to draw everyone’s attention to himself and secure his position as the center of attention.

But now, he was agitated and terrified, haunted by a dream where he revisited the ghost-sighting in the corridor, only this time the plot had changed.

The severed legs had walked in front of him, then suddenly turned around without warning, toes pointing toward him, and walked toward him step by step.

As they moved, the cross-section of the flesh undulated, teeming with dense white maggots.

Jian Yongge had turned to run, but no matter how fast he fled, those two legs stayed close behind him, at a steady distance, their “tap-tap” footsteps driving him to the brink of insanity.

This led to him feeling a deep sense of dread and hidden resentment when he saw the vibrant Pei Liu this morning.

‘Why wasn’t it Pei Liu who had that experience? Why can’t Pei Liu just die?’

Pei Liu vaguely sensed something, looked up, and caught Jian Yongge staring at him with a sinister gaze before sneering and looking away—all from an angle where the others and the cameras couldn’t see.

Pei Liu frowned.

‘Is something wrong with his brain?’

In the morning, they discovered a nursery.

Most of the villa’s rooms had already been searched, and if things went well, they would be done by the end of the day.

Shortly after the wedding, the CEO’s young wife had become pregnant, and they had attached great importance to it, early on having various baby supplies prepared and carefully creating a nursery.

As soon as Pei Liu and the others entered, they could tell.

Wu Kai sighed: “It’s all money; as expected of an overbearing CEO.”

Searching for clues wasn’t just about rummaging through things; they occasionally ran into puzzles involving higher mathematics, physics, and the like, which had to be solved to proceed.

Wu Kai was the team’s muscle and wasn’t good at puzzles, so he just spun around like a silly dog.

Zhao Hai and the others puzzled over the Huarong Road puzzle, frowning.

Pei Liu’s eyelashes flickered as he suddenly thought of something, and without hesitation, he reached out, moved the wooden blocks a few times, and click—it opened.

“Wow—” the others exclaimed in excitement.

Tong Jiaqi and the others couldn’t help but admire him: “You solve eighty percent of the puzzles. Seriously, little Pei, how is your brain wired?”

Wu Kai gave him a hearty slap on the shoulder and declared: “You are our team’s greatest brain!”

Senior Zhao Hai also nodded with a smile.

Pei Liu lowered his eyes, touched his neck, and gave a shy, awkward smile: “It’s nothing…”

Tong Jiaqi sighed in wonder.

‘His ears are actually red. Is he shy from being praised? So cute!’

Who couldn’t love a handsome, smart, shy, and blushing boy?

Although her manager had warned her to stay close to Jian Yongge and ignore Pei Liu, she found Jian Yongge’s fans to be terrifying, praising him as the most flawless human being and attacking any female celebrity who stood near him as being a shameless gold-digger.

Now that she was truly recording the program, she found that while Jian Yongge looked gentle and approachable, calling her “sister” with honeyed words, he was actually quite arrogant, and even when he hit her yesterday, he just brushed it off with a casual comment.

On the other hand, Pei Liu was nothing like the negative rumors online; he was diligent in recording, polite and respectful to others, and would even protect them when they were scared—obedient and hardworking.

Being six years younger than her, she couldn’t help but dote on him like a younger brother.

Just as they were chatting happily, the wardrobe door behind them opened without warning, despite no one touching it, emitting a creak as a doll fell out and hit the ground.

The movement immediately caught their attention, and as they turned, they saw the doll on the floor come to life.

It first braced itself with its hands, then its feet, its ball joints clicking as its limbs twisted at bizarre angles like a zombie.

The doll stood up stiffly, its features exquisite and realistic, its long black hair reaching its waist, and its resin eyeballs glowing with an inorganic, cold light as it stared straight at them.

It tilted its head, suddenly smiled, and as its mouth moved, a high-pitched, childlike voice began to sing a nursery rhyme.

“Seeking, seeking, seeking a friend.”

“Found a good friend, cut off the hands, hack off the feet.”

“Cut off the nose, gouge out the eyeballs.”

“You are my good friend…”

The doll sang, laughing shrilly as it walked toward them step by step.

The sudden turn of events terrified Wu Kai and the others.

The “Uncanny Valley” effect—as the simulation of human toys and robots increases, human favorability rises, but as it approaches near-100% realism, favorability plummets, creating fear.

This realistic doll had clearly reached that valley of fear.

The melody of the song rose at the end; it should have been light and innocent, but listening to it now, it only brought a chilling coldness.

“Big brothers and sisters, do you want to be friends with me?”

The doll asked in a sweet voice, its face expressionless.

Tong Jiaqi had a phobia of dolls and felt terrible, wanting Wu Kai to help her.

But when she turned and reached out, she found that he was even more useless than she was—despite his tall stature, he was scared out of his wits by the doll, lunging toward the door on the spot.

However, his legs were likely weak, causing him to slip on the floor, perform a “limit drift,” and tumble sideways toward the wall.

Pei Liu was shocked by this maneuver and hurriedly reached out to catch him.

But Wu Kai was too heavy, and instead of pulling him up, he was dragged down with him.

Just as he prepared to fall awkwardly, the bruise on his waist suddenly throbbed, and he stabilized himself somehow, while only Wu Kai fell flat on his butt.

It had happened in a matter of seconds; to the others, it looked like Pei Liu had pulled Wu Kai, keeping him from hitting the wall.

The incident was so absurd that Tong Jiaqi forgot her fear and wanted to laugh; she tried to suppress it while moving to help Wu Kai up.

Meanwhile, Jian Yongge walked up to the doll and picked it up without fear to reclaim his “brave” persona.

He turned the doll over, pushed open the cover, and removed the batteries, silencing the eerie voice.

“It’s just a recorded song.”

Wu Kai let out a sigh of relief and turned to thank Pei Liu.

Jian Yongge took another look at the battery and said: “It says here, ‘Crib’.”

They all walked to the crib, searching through pillows, blankets, and seams, and sure enough, found a diary.

As soon as they opened it, they saw elegant handwriting.

“I love it here; today, someone gave me a bouquet of lilies.”

“I love him so much.”

“Nannan has been strange lately; she’s always talking to the air, as if someone is standing there.”

“Today is the happiest day; we have a new baby on the way!”

“Nannan is even stranger…”

“Why does she always stare at my stomach? Is she excited for a little brother or sister? It must be.”

“I’ve been so sleepy lately, even falling asleep watching TV; when I woke up, Nannan was standing in front of me with a knife in her hand.”

“I was startled and asked what she was doing; she said she wanted to peel an apple for me.”

“But there was no apple in her hand! And her eyes… indescribable, they made me very afraid.”

“Nannan has become so unfamiliar; I keep feeling like she wants to kill my child.”

“She wants to push me down the stairs.”

“No, I can’t let this go on; I’ll talk to my husband tomorrow.”

The diary ended there.

Pei Liu and the others immediately had new ideas.

“The daughter must have been possessed by a ghost.”

“Or maybe she was a born evil seed? I’ve seen movies of this type; children can have unimaginable levels of malice.”

“Maybe it was the pregnant mother’s psychological issues…”

Their opinions differed, and lacking evidence, they had to keep gathering information.

As they changed locations, Pei Liu trailed behind, deep in thought, and didn’t notice where he was stepping, accidentally treading on a protrusion.

In the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a piece of white bone.

Pei Liu didn’t pay attention, his body reflexively reaching out to steady himself against the nearby wall, but his grip accidentally tore the wallpaper.

The wallpaper was already peeling, and his pull increased the area, exposing the wall itself.

“…Hmm?”

Pei Liu looked up and let out a surprised sound.

On the wall was a bloody handprint—small and clearly belonging to a child.

Pei Liu paused, reached out, and grabbed the wallpaper, intending to tear off the entire section; he felt it was a clue.

However, despite looking fragile, it was unexpectedly sticky and firm; his first pull failed.

He used both hands, leaning back, intending to call for the others to help.

At that moment, a wisp of black mist drifted from the shadow of his hand on the wall, wrapped around his wrist, and gave a gentle tug.

Riiip!

Large swaths of wallpaper peeled away.

Pei Liu, caught off guard, stumbled backward, but something seemed to support his lower back just in time to help him stand steady.

The bright red palm prints were exposed behind the wallpaper, thick and dense, covering the entire wall, with words written beside them—

Mom, Mom, Mom.

Go to die! Go to die! Go to die!

The words were carved deeply into the wall with great force, visibly radiating intense hatred.

As Pei Liu was looking at them, his shirt was suddenly tugged; he looked down to see several pale, small fingers.

A little girl with pitch-black eyes and a pale, blueish complexion was looking up at him, grinning.

“Big brother, do you want to be friends with me?”