Supernatural and Paranormal Research Society

A cemetery for the wealthy.

Stone tablets stand in rows, their shadows looming over the landscape.

Chen Haoran did not pause in his steps, nor did he even look down at the road.

He turned into the heart of the area with practiced ease and headed straight for the solitary blue stone tomb.

[Tomb of Feng Di, wife of the late Madam Sun]

The inscription on the monument appeared a cold, hard bluish-gray under the flashlight beam.

A crack had been dug into the earthen mound in front of the grave at some point.

The black and red coffin lid was pushed open half a foot, revealing the deep darkness beneath.

Chen Haoran walked to the coffin and stopped.

He slowly bent down.

His movements were stiff, and his joints made a very slight "clicking" sound.

Then, he stepped inside.

The camera tilted as he moved, eventually settling on the bottom of the coffin.

He lay flat on his back, his posture frighteningly neat.

Place your hands on your abdomen and keep your legs together.

Like a body awaiting burial.

Immediately afterwards, he took something out from his side.

A dark red wedding dress.

The fabric had long since faded to a blood-red ochre color, with damp mud and dark brown stains clinging to its edges.

The flowing sleeves draped down, and the lotus scroll pattern shimmered with a dark, watery sheen under the lens.

Chen Haoran held it tightly in his arms, his cheek pressed against the cold, damp silk, and his Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

A satisfied smile slowly appeared on that pale face.

A tranquility that seeps into your very bones.

The comments section paused for a second.

[These props...they look so real!]

[The streamer actually lay down inside?! That's a damn lime coffin!]

The show was incredibly entertaining, but it gave me the chills...

Just then.

A pale hand reached in from the edge of the lens without warning.

The fingers were long and slender with distinct knuckles, and the nails had an ominous bluish-gray tinge.

It gently touched Chen Haoran's cheek, its fingertips slowly sliding down his cheekbone, across his jaw, and stopping at his Adam's apple.

A damp chill permeated the air through the screen.

"Giggle..."

A very soft laugh came through the microphone.

His voice rose, carrying the sweetness of moisture and aged incense.

Alluring, captivating, with the last syllable drawn out, like a soaked red silk ribbon brushing against the earlobe.

The barrage of comments exploded instantly.

Holy crap! Whose hand is that?!

[An actress?! That voice is amazing!]

[Something's not right... The streamer didn't move, but that hand was definitely touching him!]

Chen Haoran did not dodge.

He closed his eyes, his eyelashes trembling slightly, letting the hand wander along the side of his neck.

A very soft sigh escaped his throat, indistinct and hoarse.

"Sizzle—"

The screen flickered violently.

The screen suddenly went black.

[Live stream has been interrupted.]

The comment section was silent for two seconds, then it was flooded with comments like "Awesome!", "More chapters!", and "Looking forward to the sequel!"

Spectators are used to using "show effects" to digest all fears that are beyond their comprehension.

The frenzy of the internet age is always adept at concealing the cracks.

……

Girls' dormitory.

Tong Qianxue suddenly opened her eyes.

The amulet on his chest was burning hot, and the chill seeped into his bone marrow along his meridians, fighting desperately against the scorching pain on the amulet's surface.

She sat up, her breathing slightly rapid.

The chilling feeling did not dissipate when the live stream ended; instead, it clung to my limbs and bones like a maggot clinging to my bones.

She touched her phone; the screen lit up at 00:17.

The push notifications clearly show the broadcast time as 00:00:00.

Precision down to the second.

She opened the homepage, and the post "Feeling unwell, live stream paused" was still there, posted at 19:43.

People don't automatically start broadcasting at midnight after they've lost consciousness.

They would not complete a full set of rituals, including guiding the way, placing the body in the coffin, and betrothal, without being aware of it.

Tong Qianxue's fingertips felt cold; unease, like a raging beast, was frantically assaulting her reason.

She closed her eyes and pressed the amulet back to her heart.

The burning pain on the talisman subsided slightly, but the chill on my spine remained.

……

The Supernatural and Paranormal Research Society is located on the second floor of Joy City Plaza in the city center.

The incense stick burned to the end, and the ashes snapped with a "crack".

The boy behind the counter had long, slender fingers and was slowly folding paper ingots.

The gold foil fluttered between his fingers, making a dry, crisp sound.

"Grandma, you're really something."

He yawned, his voice lazily rising at the end: "They won't let people sleep in the middle of the night, they just drag them out to fold gold ingots."

The old lady on the recliner didn't even open her eyes as the jade-sticked, silver-tipped pipe tapped him on the forehead with a "thud".

"The customer placed an urgent order. If you don't do it, are you expecting me, this old man, to break it?"

The boy pursed his lips and didn't say anything more.

But his hands moved a little faster.

The screen of his phone was lit up, displaying a notification that Berserker's live stream had disconnected.

The old lady fiddled with her pipe, her eyelids slightly lifted:

"That kid's yin meridian has already passed through the stomach. He borrowed the passage at midnight, and the shell has already recognized its master."

"A fool who's courting death."

The boy casually tossed a paper ingot into the bamboo basket, his tone nonchalant: "Helping him is just asking for trouble. Once a ghost marriage contract is signed, you have to accept it; getting involved as a living person will only bring trouble upon yourself."

The old lady chuckled softly, as if she knew the boy would make his move sooner or later, and tapped her pipe against the edge of the bed.

The boy's fingertips paused slightly.

He didn't say anything more.

……

The next morning.

Chen Haoran was awakened by the cold.

The chilling cold seeping from between the bones felt like ice shards slowly rubbing against the marrow.

He opened his eyes and saw rough wood grain, exuding a strong smell of damp earth and rotten wood.

He blinked.

A black wooden coffin lid, dark cracks, and the faint cawing of crows in the distance.

He sat up abruptly, his back slamming heavily against the coffin wall. Cold sweat instantly soaked through his pajamas, sticking stickily to his skin.

What is he doing here?!

He clearly went back to his dorm after parting ways with Tong Qianxue and the others last night.

Lock the door, get into bed, and close your eyes.

The memory is crystal clear.

But now, he lies in a coffin in the rich man's cemetery in Yinshan Village.

She was still clutching the damp, cold red wedding dress in her arms.

Chen Haoran scrambled out of the coffin.

When his legs landed, he felt as if he were stepping in mud. He didn't bother to put on shoes and ran barefoot on the gravel road.

The wind whistled past my ears, like countless wet sheets of paper being patted against me.

He dared not turn around, for fear that if he did, he would see that dark red figure following him at a leisurely pace.

My lungs felt like they were being rubbed with sandpaper, and every breath smelled of blood.

He dared not stop.

Run as fast as you can.

It wasn't until the blue and white gates of Qinglan Middle School came into view that his legs went weak and he almost knelt down.

……

Classroom of Grade 11 (3).

The morning reading bell had just rung.

Chen Haoran leaned against the door frame, panting. His school uniform jacket was open, his hair was messy, and his face was as white as if it had been coated with putty.

"Hiro?!"

Li Lingyun suddenly stood up and grabbed his arm:

"Where did you go last night?! When I got back to the dorm after evening self-study, my bed was empty! The blankets weren't even touched!"

Chen Haoran opened his mouth, his throat was parched, and his voice was as hoarse as a broken bellows: "I...I'm going to Yinshan Village."

"What?!"

Li Lingyun's voice suddenly rose, and all eyes in the class turned to him.

He quickly lowered his voice, his eyes bloodshot and filled with worry:

"Are you crazy?! The doctor told you to rest, why did you go to the cemetery again?!"

"It's not my idea to go!"

Chen Haoran abruptly shook off his hand, his nails digging into his palm.

"I was definitely sleeping in my dorm yesterday! I opened my eyes... and there I was in a coffin! Lingyun, I really don't know what happened..."

He was speaking incoherently, his eyes filled with terror and bloodshot veins.

He wanted to escape, but he didn't know what else he could do.

He clearly... he clearly locked the door last night!

Li Lingyun gritted his teeth:

"No! There's definitely something wrong with you right now! Come on, ask for leave, we'll go to Joy City Plaza to find that expert! We can't delay any longer!"

He reached out to pull Chen Haoran.

My fingertips just touched his wrist.

Li Lingyun abruptly withdrew her hand.

cold.

Bone-chilling cold.

It felt like holding a piece of iron that had been frozen in a morgue for three days.

Chen Haoran did not move.

He slowly straightened up.

The trembling in his shoulders stopped, his breathing calmed down, and even the fear in his eyes seemed to be erased by an eraser, disappearing completely in an instant.

He raised his eyes, and the breath he exhaled was a frozen white mist.

The last vestiges of panic in his pupils were replaced by an eerie, deep-pool-like calm.

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, the curve as perfect as a mask.

"Need not."

He spoke, his voice perfectly still without a single inflection:

"I'm fine. I was just sleepwalking last night and got lost. Don't make a fuss about it."

Li Lingyun stood frozen in place.

That's not right.

This is not Chen Haoran.

At least, he's not the Chen Haoran of yesterday who was afraid, broke down, and desperately tried to rationalize himself.

The sunlight slanted into the classroom through the window and fell at Chen Haoran's feet.

The shadow was so faint it was almost transparent.

The edges are blurred, like ink stains that have been soaked in water.

The outline of the shadow could be vaguely seen to be a touch of red.