Forgotten Photo Studio

Chapter 39 The Whispering House
As he spoke, he couldn't help but shiver:
“We went to the community, and they said we were hallucinating due to excessive grief. We called the police, but when they came and looked at us, they said they couldn’t do anything.”

Later, we heard about some kind of 'city emergency response center' that specializes in handling these kinds of strange incidents, so we quickly went there. After registering the case, they said they 'would not accept it,' saying that the energy response was too low and did not meet the intervention criteria.

But...but that's clearly my mom! Does she have some unfulfilled wish? Did we do something wrong? We're scared that she's come back like this, and she's not at peace either..."

Zhou Wenbin's face was filled with helplessness and fear, as well as a deep concern that his loved ones might be suffering.

Silence fell over the photo studio.

Ah Zhe regained his senses slightly, clutching the hem of his clothes tightly, his voice still trembling, yet he couldn't help but mutter under his breath:
"Energy response too low? Damn, that's exactly the tone of those bastards at the center."

Their monitoring system only looks at numerical thresholds. As long as the energy fluctuation does not exceed the threshold, it is directly classified as 'harmless'... But what if it is a boundary case?

"Legacy spirits and low-energy ghosts don't rely on explosive power to win; instead, they can exploit loopholes... Once these accumulate, they'll inevitably cause major trouble sooner or later."

As he finished speaking, his voice tightened, as if he was becoming increasingly afraid, but a trace of the calm calculation unique to technicians flashed in his eyes, as if he was using reason to cover up his panic.

Chen Zhiwei looked at Zhou Wenbin's haggard and sad appearance, and her eyes showed sympathy.

She grew up with her grandfather and was well protected, but she was still exposed to certain things and had an instinctive awe and understanding of the obsessions and ties between the deceased and the living.

Xu Yan listened in silence, his mind racing as he weighed the options.

This isn't the trap at the center; it's just an ordinary person with nowhere else to turn.

The request sounded like a common case of lingering spirits, and didn't even pique the center's interest.

But... they desperately need a breather, resources, and a reason to temporarily hide and avoid being seen by the central authorities.

This seems to be just right for handling such "small orders".

and.

"The Ghost Festival is here."

Xu Yan suddenly spoke, his voice low and deep.

Zhou Wenbin nodded vigorously: "Yes, yes! Granny Xue also said that it's the fifteenth of July, the pass has opened, and there will be a total lunar eclipse tonight, and then... then I'm afraid it will be even more..."

Xu Yan's gaze swept over Chen Zhiwei and A Zhe, finally settling on Zhou Wenbin.

"We've accepted this commission," Xu Yan said softly. "The door was already knocking on the Ghost Festival. The real thing... might already be on its way."

The photo studio door closed again, shutting out Zhou Wenbin's anxious figure, but unable to contain the heaviness and chill he left behind.

The brief silence inside the museum was replaced by a new, purposeful tension.

“Damn it… I just escaped the tiger’s den, and now I’m getting this kind of trouble…” Ah Zhe rubbed his bruised eyes, his voice hoarse, but the despair he had felt before seemed to have been somewhat diluted by this sudden “normal” commission. “What kind of profit could there be in a ‘small order’ that even the central government doesn’t want? I’m just glad I didn’t get into any trouble.”

Chen Zhiwei, however, had already taken action quietly.

She went behind the counter, opened her suitcase, and took out a compass, red-threaded copper coins, and a talisman.

Her movements remained gentle, but her fingertips trembled almost imperceptibly when they touched the cold objects.

Grandpa's secret is like a thorn in my heart, but right now, helping the living comfort the dead is in line with the "rules" that Grandpa has always taught me.

At this moment, for the first time, she felt a deep sense of bewilderment about everything she had learned.

Grandpa often said that the most difficult thing to deal with is the vengeful spirit, whose obsession is as heavy as a mountain. But when she actually faced it, she found that the talisman in her hand seemed to feel that weight and became difficult to grasp.

Xu Yan did not participate in the discussion; he leaned against the wall, closed his eyes, and concentrated.

Inside his right arm, the strange sensation of the Soul-Suppressing Iron sinking into his flesh still lingered. A cold, object-like stagnation intertwined with the sinister writhing of the Ghost Hand Curse itself, forming a delicate and dangerous balance.

He tried to mobilize a trace of power, and the bluish-black lines under his skin felt slightly warm, followed by a stinging pain like being pricked by needles, as if warning him of the double-edged nature of this power.

He opened his eyes and glanced at Chen Zhiwei and A Zhe.

"Let's go." He said succinctly and walked towards the door first.

He needs to take action, and he needs to hone this "knife"—which could hurt himself or others—under external pressure and crisis.

Ah Zhe sighed, resignedly got up, and casually picked up the modified old radio: "Take this with you, in case there are any abnormal energy field changes, it will be more reliable than a dog."

Zhou Wenbin's home is located in a somewhat dilapidated apartment building in the old city.

The corridor was narrow and dark, filled with a mixture of stale cooking fumes and damp, musty smells.

The closer one gets to the door of the Zhou family's room on the fourth floor, the more pronounced the eerie, ghostly aura that seeps into the skin and irritates the nerves becomes.

Zhou Wenbin opened the door with trembling hands.

An indescribable aura wafted over us.

The curtains were half-drawn, the light was dim, and the furniture was neat but lifeless.

The portrait of the deceased on the altar had a kind smile, but the fruits and dried fruits placed in front of it showed obvious signs of being moved, and there was a faint fingerprint-like gray spot on one of the pears.

“That’s…that’s it…” Zhou Wenbin’s voice trembled, and he dared not step inside.

Chen Zhiwei took out a compass, and the magnetic needle slowly and persistently tilted towards the bedroom.

She took out a purification talisman, flicked her fingertips, and the talisman spontaneously combusted without fire. The flames were a ghostly blue, emitting a very faint hissing sound, like sobbing, and the ashes drifted in the same direction.

“There are indeed lingering spirits,” she said softly, her expression grave. “Their aura is more sorrowful than resentful, but… they are very stubborn.”

The radio in A Zhe's hand emitted intermittent static noise, and the indicator light flickered erratically.

“The energy field isn’t strong, but the frequency is strange and extremely disruptive,” he frowned, listening carefully to the noise. “It doesn’t sound like random noise; it’s more like some kind of incomplete information encoding. Is she trying to ‘transmit’ something? But we can’t receive it, or… we can’t decode it?”

"Damn it, if she's really broadcasting information, then this weird frequency is harder to decipher than encrypted satellites... Those pretentious monitors at the center only look at energy values. If they miss this kind of edge case, sooner or later there will be big trouble."

Xu Yan walked silently into the living room. The cold, stinging pain in his right arm had gradually intensified since he entered the house.

He followed his instincts and walked step by step toward the bedroom with the door tightly closed.

The closer he got, the stronger the strange sensation in his right arm became, and a cold resonance became clearer, as if the thing inside had formed some kind of weak connection with the Soul-Suppressing Iron in his arm.

He stopped in front of the bedroom door.

The others followed, holding their breath.

It was completely silent inside.

Xu Yan reached out and slowly pushed open the door.

The bedroom was even darker inside.

Through the light filtering through the crack in the door, one could see that the bedding on the bed was neatly arranged, but a glass of water on the bedside table had tiny ripples on its surface.

Just as everyone was staring intently, the rippling water strangely and briefly converged, reflecting an extremely blurry and distorted human face in the center of the water, with two bottomless black dots in the eye sockets.

But before you could get a closer look, the shadow vanished, leaving only the ripples on the water.

Almost simultaneously, a very light and ethereal sigh rose clearly, as if it were blowing right next to everyone's ear.

"Ugh……"

His voice was old, filled with endless weariness and sorrow.

Zhou Wenbin suddenly covered his mouth, so frightened he almost collapsed.

(End of this chapter)