Forgotten Photo Studio

Chapter 37 A lot of doubts
At that moment, the fear in Chen Zhiwei's eyes instantly turned into tears.

Ding-ling… Ding-ling…

She raised the bell, trembling as she increased the frequency of her shaking. The crisp, tinkling sound was like an invisible thread, desperately trying to pull Xu Yan back from the edge of chaos.

The confusion and unfamiliarity in Xu Yan's eyes finally faded away little by little under the familiar ringtone and the tearful gaze of the person in front of her.

"...knowing the subtle."

The blue lines on her palms were still writhing under her skin, bringing a cold, stinging pain, but the desolate emptiness in her chest seemed to be forcefully suppressed by her shout.

Tears welled up in Chen Zhiwei's eyes, and her voice finally broke out: "Senior...Senior Brother."

In that instant, Xu Yan's chest tightened suddenly.

However, the relief of surviving the ordeal was fleeting.

A pungent, fishy stench mixed with the smell of rotting mud suddenly rushed into Xu Yan's nostrils, making him feel nauseous as he was just regaining his senses.

Chen Zhiwei snapped back to reality and hurriedly pushed the two of them towards the back room: "Quick! Go wash it off first! This smell is too strong, and it will attract bad things!"

As if awakened, Ah Zhe looked at his filth-covered body, cursed with a mournful face, "Damn! I look like I just crawled out of a grave!" He staggered towards the pool.

Xu Yan was still somewhat dazed, like a wooden sculpture.

Chen Zhiwei practically dragged and pushed him to the washroom and handed him clean clothes.

The sound of water pattering.

Sludge and stench were washed down Xu Yan's arm, forming streams of murky black water that meandered into the drain.

Under the light, his grayish-white right arm gleamed with an eerie coldness in the water, and the bluish-black lines seemed to be activated by the water, wriggling and undulating subtly.

Xu Yan stared blankly, his breathing gradually becoming labored.

In a daze, he saw the reflection on the water begin to distort and deform.

It was no longer his arm, but a withered, dark hand with strangely long knuckles, slowly reaching out from his wrist, its wet nails gleaming coldly, about to climb up to his throat.

"Brother!"

Chen Zhiwei's shout was like a thunderclap, shattering the illusion.

Water splashed everywhere, the reflection disappeared, leaving only the empty washbasin and the rapidly flowing black water.

But in the next instant, the black mud that had been washed away strangely gathered at the bottom of the pool, forming a blurry human face.

His silhouette resembled both his master and the water spirit that entangled them underground, a chilling smile spreading across his lips.

Xu Yan's heart tightened, and he suddenly raised his foot and stomped down hard.

With a "pop," the water surface exploded, but only muddy water splashed up; nothing else remained.

There was nothing beneath his feet but the swirling dirty water in the sink, as if that face had never appeared.

Xu Yan stiffly raised his head, cold sweat pouring down his forehead, mixing with the sewage, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it was going to shatter his sternum.

The hallucination disappeared, but his fingertips still trembled uncontrollably.

That fake face seemed still etched deep in his mind, staring coldly at him. When the two changed their clothes and returned to the hall, the rumbling from underground seemed to have temporarily subsided.

But the photo studio was not at peace. A deathly silence descended, replacing all the previous excitement, and was almost suffocating.

Extreme exhaustion and belated fear, like two invisible giant hands, finally and completely defeated Xu Yan.

He leaned against the cold filing cabinet, slowly slid down to the floor, and felt as if his soul had been hollowed out.

Seeing his dejected appearance, Chen Zhiwei's eyes instantly reddened.

She suppressed her fear, quickly walked to the back room, poured two cups of hot tea, and silently handed them to him.

Her hands were still trembling slightly from the shock she had just experienced.

"Senior brother..." Her voice choked with emotion, a thousand words stuck in her chest, yet she didn't know where to begin.

In the corner, A Zhe sat slumped, clutching his head tightly, curling up into a ball as if trying to hide himself in the shadows.

His breathing was rapid and shallow, his shoulders trembled uncontrollably, and he kept muttering things like "It's over," "I'm dead," and "I'm really going to die this time." His eyes were unfocused as he stared at a point on the ground, as if he could see a way out from there.

Time flowed viscously in the deathly silence.

A-Zhe's fear did not subside; instead, it swelled like fermentation, filling every corner of the photo studio.

Suddenly, he jerked his head up, his eyes bloodshot, as if burned by his own thoughts. His voice became shrill and distorted with extreme tension, and he spoke so fast he almost bit his tongue:
"No...no! Brother Yan...what...what did you do?! That 'Soul-Suppressing Iron'...that thing is a 'suppressing object'! It's an inanimate object! It's a weapon! How could it...how could it crawl into human flesh on its own? This is against the rules! This doesn't make sense!"

He grasped at the only straw that allowed him to think, even though that straw was chillingly cold:
"If...if it really merges with you...then what are you now? A 'living talisman'? A humanoid talisman?! This...this..."

A Zhe's breathing suddenly became rapid, and the last trace of color drained from his face. It was as if he had just fully understood the meaning of the words he had blurted out, and his voice was filled with uncontrollable horror:
"If the center's data monitoring captures this... you won't just be 'trouble' in their eyes anymore, you'll be... you'll be 'experimental material'! In an unprecedented way! Your value and danger will both be off the charts! They will never let you go. Not to silence you, but to dismantle you! To dismantle you for research!"

Xu Yan slowly raised his head, his eyes no longer dazed, but filled with a deep, cold hatred.

“The center… tricked me into this trap, using evil spirits as bait,” he said in a hoarse voice, but each word was clear. “The tomb my master guards, the terrifying being inside, and the thing on my body… must be connected.”

These words were like an icicle, piercing Chen Zhiwei's ears.

She was jolted, as if she hadn't heard clearly, or as if she had heard it too clearly, and her whole body froze.

His face turned deathly pale instantly, and even his lips lost their color.

"Grandpa...guarding the tomb of an evil spirit?"

She murmured the same words over and over, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible, each word spoken with extraordinary difficulty, as if it were some incomprehensible ancient incantation.

The copper bell in her hand emitted a series of fine, disordered tremors, revealing the uncontrollable trembling of her fingertips.

Her gaze involuntarily fell on Xu Yan's strange right arm, where the writhing bluish-black lines looked incredibly glaring at the moment.

Her eyes were filled with obvious fear, but deeper still, there was a more intense struggle that almost tore her apart.

"No...it can't be..."

She shook her head, her voice gradually growing louder, carrying an urgency that was both an attempt to convince herself and a desire to deny the reality before her.

“Senior brother, are you mistaken? Grandpa... he was cautious and upright his whole life, he only offered incense to our ancestors and never touched those dubious, unorthodox temples... He sternly warned me from a young age that there are certain boundaries that must never be crossed and certain things that must never be touched…”

(End of this chapter)