I fabricated myths to guide the revival of spiritual energy.

Jishou, western Hunan.

Days of heavy rain have shrouded the city, nestled among mountains, in a hazy, misty fog. The air is damp and sticky, carrying the earthy smell and the stench of decaying leaves unique to the depths of the mountains.

Inside an unassuming guesthouse, Gu Qing stood by the window, his fingertips lightly tapping the windowpane. Deep within his pupils, a pale blue stream of data was frantically scrolling across the screen.

[Current Script: "The Corpse Transporter of Western Hunan" (Pre-release Phase)]

[Accuracy of Information Collection: 12.5%... 13.1%...]

[Warning: An excessively high concentration of "fear value" has been detected in a localized area.]

[System notification: When the credibility of a lie exceeds a critical point, reality will be distorted. Please note, host, you are no longer writing a story, but rather the rules.]

Gu Qing withdrew his gaze and looked at an old-fashioned radio on the table. This was a "low-level prop" he had just set up, which was playing a piece of garbled audio with a crackling sound, occasionally interspersed with a few indistinct Miao language chants.

Although it was just a rather unsophisticated trick, the urban legend of "receiving ghostly messages on a late-night radio station in western Hunan" has already begun to spread online.

"Is this what they call 'three men can make a tiger'?" Gu Qing muttered to himself.

He stretched out his hand, palm facing upwards. A faint wisp of black energy suddenly appeared in his previously empty palm. This was neither a holographic projection nor a visual illusion, but real, physically-based energy.

[Trust Conversion Rate: 0.001%]

[Energy Attribute: Yin (transformed from fear)]

"Before, I needed to use special effects, props, and holographic projections to deceive their eyes." Gu Qing clenched his fist, the wisp of black energy wandering between his fingers, bringing a bone-chilling coldness. "But now, as long as they believe, this thing will really be born."

Just then, the rain outside the window suddenly intensified.

In the dark alley downstairs from the guesthouse, several stray cats that were foraging for food suddenly bristled, let out piercing screams at the void, and then scattered and fled.

Gu Qing keenly sensed something was amiss. He pushed open the window and looked into that dark corner.

There was no one there, only a pile of garbage that no one had cleaned up. But in Gu Qing's system view, the data in that corner was undergoing drastic distortion.

A rat that was gnawing on carrion suddenly began to convulse.

Its bones made a teeth-grinding "crackling" sound, and its originally grayish fur instantly fell off, revealing bright red muscles underneath. Its body swelled at a visible speed, its teeth became sharp as saws, and its eyes, which were the size of mung beans, became cloudy spheres filled with bloodshot veins.

It is no longer a mouse.

It transformed into a creature that was either extinct or existed only in supernatural tales—the Corpse Rat.

[Warning: A "Derivative Demon" has been detected.]

[Note: Due to the "Xiangxi Ghost Stories" script deployed by the host, the subconscious fears of the people in this area have become concentrated, causing a slight adjustment to the rules of reality. Ordinary organisms have been affected by the "script radiation" and have mutated.]

Gu Qing looked at the mutated rat howling in the downpour, but felt no fear. Instead, he revealed a fanatical smile.

"When lies become truth, demons are born."

He did not kill the monster.

This corpse rat was the world's first response to his "script." Though pitifully weak, and likely not even surviving tonight's downpour, its appearance proved a terrifying truth:

Gu Qing is no longer just a screenwriter or director.

He is becoming the creator.

Although this creator can currently only rely on human fear to create monsters.

"Go," Gu Qing said in a low voice, as if issuing a decree to the monster, "Go and let this world experience what the 'unknown' truly means."

The corpse rat seemed to understand his words, or perhaps driven by some instinct, it suddenly burrowed into the sewers and disappeared into the city's underground network.

Gu Qing turned back to the table and opened her laptop. On the screen was a document she had prepared beforehand—"Top Secret Files: Western Hunan Chapter".

He typed the last line and then clicked "Upload".

In the dark corners of the online world, a new legend begins.

[System: The core scene of the script, "Ghost Train," has been loaded.]

[Item Placement: An old train ticket printed with "K444".]

[Trigger condition: Midnight, Jishou Old Railway Station.]

Gu Qing picked up the yellowed train ticket on the table. The ticket was rough in texture, the ink was somewhat blurred, and the date showed it was from thirty years ago.

But he knew that the train would arrive at the station on time tonight.

This train is not meant to transport passengers, but to transport the fears that the world has long forgotten.

"It's time to go."

Gu Qing put on a black raincoat and picked up an inconspicuous black cloth umbrella.

He pushed open the door and stepped out into the raging wind and rain.

Behind him, the static from the old-fashioned radio suddenly became clear, and a hoarse female voice sang softly:

"In the Fallen Flower Cave, all the flowers have fallen; zombies worship the moon, not the gods..."