Forgotten Photo Studio

Chapter 55 Anger

He was stunned for a moment before he came to his senses.

That memory is gone. The image of Chen Zhiwei handing him the amulet, along with her trembling lips saying, "Promise me you'll come back"... has vanished completely.

A sudden, sharp pain shot through my chest, more intense than the wound under my ribs.

"Brother Yan! How are you?!" A Zhe's face was full of panic.

Xu Yan did not answer immediately. He opened his hand, and the blood-red fragment of the wedding dress and the photograph of the bride lay quietly, their touch icy, as if silently mocking him.

He lowered his head, his fingertips tracing the venomous face on the photograph, his voice chillingly cold:
"Watch closely. The justice you can't get, I'll get for you."

This was no longer just a promise; it was more like a covenant from the abyss. He traded a warm memory for the right to fulfill this cold vow.

Ah Zhe froze, staring at the photograph, a complex feeling suddenly welling up inside him.

This is both a seal and a redemption.

However, the surrounding space did not stabilize. The darkness continued to churn, and the blood-red cracks stretched out like a spider web.

This is not the real world, but the edge of a ghost realm, as if it will collapse completely at any moment.

The cold air filled my lungs, carrying the dusty smell unique to the real world.

Xu Yan clenched the photograph in his hand, his gaze cold.

"Walk."

A Zhe was startled by the sudden crack in the ground beneath his feet and hurriedly followed.

The two supported each other, stumbling back to the Forgotten Photo Studio. Pushing open the door, the studio was as deathly silent and cold as ever.

Chen Dingkun's spirit still hovered in front of the offering table, its light enveloping the faintly aura-filled Chen Zhiwei.

His gaze swept over the two disheveled figures, lingering for a moment on the object in Xu Yan's hand. In the deep, still depths of his eyes, a faint, almost imperceptible trace of weariness seemed to flash by.

“Master…” Xu Yan’s voice was hoarse as he placed the photograph and fragments of the wedding dress on the counter, “…I brought the things back.”

Chen Dingkun nodded slightly, his gaze shifting to the drawer behind the counter where the file folders were stored.

Xu Yan walked over silently and took out the kraft paper bag and the brush dipped in dark red ink.

He picked up his pen, but paused in mid-air.

"What...is her name?" he asked, looking up.

Chen Dingkun's spirit remained silent for a moment. His aged voice was devoid of emotion, yet it held something more than just a cold statement: "No one remembers. Perhaps... he was never named to begin with."

There was a hint of coldness, almost pity, in that tone.

Xu Yan's heart sank, and he asked no more questions.

He picked up his pen and wrote heavy characters on the bag: "Red Demon - Ruined Courtyard - 2018"

The instant the pen tip leaves the paper.

hum...

The entire photo studio let out a very slight sigh, as if a heavy burden had been quietly lifted.

A faint yet pure and gentle warmth emanated from the file folder.

On the altar, the two clusters of pale blue flames silently rose an inch, their flames becoming stable and solid.

On the wall, among the countless cold portraits, the frozen expressions of pain on some faces seemed to ease slightly, as if someone had finally closed their eyes and gained a moment of peace. But the biggest change came from Chen Zhiwei.

A faint trace of color returned to her paper-white cheeks. Although she was still unconscious, her tightly furrowed brows relaxed slightly, and her breathing became more pronounced and prolonged.

It was as if an invisible spring of life had been poured into her nearly depleted soul.

Xu Yan subconsciously reached out, wanting to touch her cheek, which seemed to be warming up again. But his fingertips hovered in mid-air, and he suddenly froze.

He discovered that the image of her smiling face that he was desperately trying to recall was completely blurry, and he couldn't remember it at all.

The faint warmth that had just begun to rise because of her improved condition was instantly overwhelmed by an even greater chill.

He abruptly withdrew his hand, as if burned by the warmth. A chilling nausea surged from his stomach. But to Xu Yan, this warmth was colder than ice.

"I...I'm going!"

Ah Zhe stared wide-eyed at this incomprehensible scene, and subconsciously reached for his backpack, only to find that it was already gone.

So he pulled out the only small detector he had left, and the screen was filled with gibberish: "The energy field level has changed! What... what is this? Negative entropy conversion? Resentment purification feedback? What is the working principle of this photo studio?!"

His gaze abruptly shifted to Chen Dingkun's ghostly figure, carrying the stubbornness characteristic of a science and engineering student and an irrepressible suspicion:
"Master Chen! This...whose 'merit' should it be attributed to? Should it be attributed to Brother Yan, or to this restaurant? Is this really alright?! Using the 'benefits' from eliminating a ghost to save another person? Does this...does this comply with the law of conservation of energy?! And what is the cost of this equivalent exchange?!"

His question pierced the delicate calm like a knife.

Chen Dingkun remained silent for a moment before slowly speaking, his voice seemingly coming from an ice cave:

"Merit does not belong to any individual, nor to this institution. It is merely the embers produced by the operation of the 'rules,' and this institution is the only furnace that can collect and utilize these embers."

He paused slightly, his tone carrying a chilling sharpness:

“Remember, it’s not a ‘benefit,’ but a debt. If you save someone, someone else must repay it. What you feel you’ve gained is simply being allowed to continue giving.”

cost……

Xu Yan suddenly raised his hand and pressed hard on his temple.

That vague gap in memory suddenly burned with pain.

He remembered! What he had lost!
It's Chen Zhiwei!

It was Chen Zhiwei's forgotten, trembling words of advice when she handed him the talisman.

He opened his mouth, wanting to shout those words at her, even just one sentence, but his throat felt like it was filled with ice shards, and he couldn't squeeze out a single word.

That extreme sense of powerlessness, like an icy hand, instantly gripped his heart, crushing all his bravado.

He used his memories of her to gain the power to seal the female ghost, and in return, he received a little bit of "merit" that was injected into her body.

A chilling sensation, a mixture of absurdity and anger, instantly swept over his entire body.

"The price... is my memories." Xu Yan's voice was terrifyingly low. He raised his head, his eyes bloodshot with shock and anger, staring intently at Chen Dingkun's ghostly figure. "I traded my memories of Zhiwei... for this?! For your so-called 'merit'?!"

He slammed his fist on the heavy wooden counter, making a dull thud.

"Saving her was my own choice! I wouldn't even blink if it meant losing everything. But why, why do you have to shove this into my hands? Why should my fate be decided by someone else?!"

The camera is devouring my memories—is it to save others or to trap me?! You knew perfectly well what it would turn me into, yet you never told me the truth!
"If I'm just a vessel, a key, a sacrifice... then what am I?!"

He was overwhelmed by immense anger and resentment.

(End of this chapter)