A bizarre and terrifying experience; I messed up the dungeon world.

Han Yingying opened her eyes.

The ceiling was white, with fluorescent light tubes embedded in it, humming with electricity. She stared at the tube for a long time, her mind blank.

Where is she?

Who is she?

These two questions lingered for several seconds before the answer slowly emerged—Han Yingying, nineteen years old, a college student.

But thinking deeper, nothing can be grasped. Memory is like being torn in half, the front part intact, the back part completely empty.

She sat up.

The room wasn't big, with pink curtains, a few textbooks on the desk, and two suitcases piled in the corner. This was her room, no doubt. But why was she lying in bed? What time was it?

There is an alarm clock on the bedside table; it reads 2:17 PM.

Han Yingying threw off the covers and got out of bed. As she stepped into her slippers, she caught a glimpse of the wall out of the corner of her eye.

She was stunned.

A piece of paper was pasted on the wall, but she hadn't put it there. The paper was yellowed, the edges were curled, and several lines of text were written on it in black ink:

[Home Stay Rules]

1. You must be home by 6:00 PM every day and are not allowed to go out.

2. If you hear a knock on the door, first check the peephole to see who it is. If you don't see anyone, do not open the door.

3. If you see a face that is not your own in the mirror, immediately cover the mirror with a cloth and do not remove it for 24 hours.

Fourth, the door to the third room in the house must always be kept tightly closed and no one may enter.

5. If someone claims to be your family member but you don't know them, don't argue, just smile and respond.

VI. Violation of any of the above rules will result in consequences at your own risk.

Han Yingying read it twice. The first time she thought it was absurd, and the second time she felt uneasy.

Who posted this?

She opened the door and went out. The TV was on in the living room, the news channel was broadcasting the weather forecast, everything was perfectly normal. The smell of cooking oil wafted from the kitchen, and someone was busy working inside.

"woke up?"

A middle-aged woman peeked out from the kitchen; she had permed hair and wore a floral apron. She smiled and said, "Perfect timing, come and eat."

Han Yingying stood still.

She didn't know this woman.

She pieced together the information from her memory—her mother left when she was seven, and her father remarried, taking the surname Liu. But her impression of this stepmother was very vague, as if seen through frosted glass.

Rule number five popped into my head: If someone claims to be your family member, but you don't know them, don't argue, just smile and respond.

Han Yingying forced a smile. "Okay."

"Sis, you're finally up."

Another voice interrupted from the side. A girl of about sixteen or seventeen walked over from the other end of the corridor. She had her hair in a ponytail, wasn't particularly pretty but knew how to dress well, with long eyeliner and bright pink lips.

Step-sister, Liu Siqi.

Han Yingying didn't have much of an impression of her either, but she still smiled and responded.

Liu Siqi looked her up and down, then leaned closer and whispered, "Stop pretending. I tore that piece of paper off the wall a long time ago, except for the one in your room. What kind of ridiculous rules are these? Are you trying to scare a kid?"

Han Yingying's heart skipped a beat. "You tore it?"

"Tear it down, it looks awful sticking on the living room wall." Liu Siqi rolled her eyes. "My mom said it was some crazy prank."

Han Yingying didn't reply. She glanced at the living room wall; it was indeed spotless, with nothing on it.

The atmosphere was quiet during the meal. Her stepmother had prepared four dishes and a soup, and her cooking skills were quite good, but Han Yingying could barely taste anything. Her mind was completely occupied with the contents of that piece of paper.

"Oh, right," the stepmother put down her chopsticks, "someone from the Li family is coming over tonight, so get ready."

"The Li family?"

"Li Jinshan, have you forgotten? The marriage was arranged when your father was still alive." The stepmother's tone was casual, as if she were stating a matter of course. "He said he would come to see you at seven o'clock tonight."

Han Yingying stopped using her chopsticks.

She had absolutely no recollection of such a person. She remembered no marriage, no Li Jinshan. But Rule Five was ringing in her ears, and she swallowed the rebuttal that was on the tip of her tongue.

"What time is it?"

"Seven o'clock. Take a shower and change into something nice."

Han Yingying lowered her head, ate a couple of mouthfuls of rice, and didn't say anything more.

The afternoon seemed to have been sucked away, passing by frighteningly quickly. Han Yingying spent the entire afternoon searching her room for clues—she checked every trace she could find: chat logs, memos, and photos on her phone. But the phone looked like it had been formatted; the contacts only contained three numbers: her stepmother, Liu Siqi, and an unknown number labeled "Li Jinshan."

No friends. No classmates. My social media profile is completely blank.

She stared at the three characters "Li Jinshan" for a long time without dialing.

At 5:30, Han Yingying went out.

For no other reason than to confirm one thing. She walked three hundred meters out of the residential compound and saw the same piece of paper on the glass door of a convenience store.

[Rules for going out]

1. No one may walk alone on the street after sunset.

Second, when you encounter a pedestrian wearing red, do not make eye contact with them.

3. If notices appear in black ink on bulletin boards in public places, they must be read and obeyed.

The convenience store owner sat behind the counter, watching Han Yingying expressionlessly. Han Yingying went in, bought a bottle of water, and casually asked while paying, "Did you put up that sign by the door?"

The boss raised his eyelids slightly. "It's been on for a long time."

Who wrote it?

The shopkeeper didn't answer the question, but glanced at her again while giving her change. "Young lady, hurry home, the sun is about to set."

Han Yingying glanced out the window; the orange-red hue on the horizon was sinking. Clutching her water bottle, she quickened her pace unconsciously as she walked back.

At two minutes to six, she stepped into her home.

There was another person in the living room.

The man sat on the sofa, dressed in a suit and tie, his hair neatly combed. He had a handsome face with regular features, but there was something inexplicably awkward about him.

The stepmother eagerly brought over tea and, seeing Han Yingying enter, beckoned her over.

"Yingying, Jinshan is here."

The man stood up.

The way he looked at Han Yingying was... well, very calm, but something was hidden beneath that calmness. Like the gaze of an animal eyeing its prey, restrained yet focused.

"Yingying, it's been a long time."

He called her name so familiarly, as if he had called it a thousand times.

Han Yingying took a half step back. Not out of fear, but out of instinct. She couldn't answer where this person had come from; she had no memory of "Li Jinshan."

Rule 5. Respond with a smile.

She tried to force a smile.

But when Li Jinshan stepped forward, she noticed a problem.

He has no shadow.

The living room light shone down from above, casting shadows on the stepmother, Liu Siqi, the coffee table, and even the cat. Only the floor beneath the man's feet remained perfectly clean.

Han Yingying's smile froze on her face.