Kuang Feifan’s face was ashen, but what Xu Hui said still managed to stir something within him. He turned his head to glance at Xu Hui, noticing the extreme seriousness in his expression, which suggested this was no mere excuse fabricated to placate him.

For that briefest moment, Kuang Feifan felt a flicker of curiosity regarding the “curse” and the “zombie” Xu Hui had mentioned, but he quickly lost the interest to inquire further. He had a stack of pressing issues before him now and was in no mood to delve into other “paranormal events.”

“If you don’t believe in ghosts, then there’s nothing I can do,” Kuang Feifan stated. Now calmer, he realized Xu Hui’s skepticism was understandable. After all, he himself hadn't believed Bai Ru at first, not until he had personally experienced that terrifying situation. Perhaps without such an encounter, it was genuinely hard to believe in the existence of ghosts. Moreover, he couldn’t properly explain Bai Ru to Xu Hui; all Xu Hui knew was that she had used means beyond the ordinary to treat the poison in He Shaoqing’s wound.

“I really should have let him see that surveillance footage of the recovery,” Kuang Feifan couldn't help thinking, though he immediately dismissed the idea.

Xu Hui knew his words had agitated Kuang Feifan. He leaned back on the sofa awkwardly, resting his arm on the armrest, glanced at his watch, and suddenly said, “Whoa, it’s already eleven. I need to head home.”

Kuang Feifan didn’t pick up on the cue but instead asked, “Are you going back to that small building tomorrow?”

Xu Hui nodded. “I plan to check it out, but I’ll go around noon, say twelve. What do you think? Even if there are ghosts, I doubt they’ll be out in broad daylight.”

Kuang Feifan hesitated for a moment, then patted the sofa. “This can convert into a sofa bed. If you have nowhere else to go, crash here tonight. We can check the place out together tomorrow.”

Xu Hui was initially taken aback, his expression oddly inquisitive. “Didn't you say Dr. Bai warned everyone against entering that small building?”

Kuang Feifan sighed softly. “I don’t want you risking danger alone, especially since I still have some means of protection.”

“Protection?” Xu Hui asked, curiosity piqued.

Kuang Feifan managed a strained smile. He didn't want to explain those things right now. He raised a hand, pointing toward the main door, changing the subject. “Since you broke my door lock, you have to stand guard for me tonight and ensure my safety, right?”

Xu Hui didn't process the implication immediately and instinctively nodded.

Kuang Feifan helped him pull out the sofa bed mechanism and found bedding and pillows, then returned to his own bedroom.

Just as he reached his doorway, Xu Hui suddenly caught on, turning back to ask, “You want me to guard your door? What do you take me for?”

A slight curve appeared on Kuang Feifan’s lips as he waved a hand. “Good night.”

Perhaps because he had napped in the afternoon, Kuang Feifan felt no sleepiness at all as he lay in bed. He stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, listening to the patter of the rain outside, his mind drifting back to that recent, dreamlike nightmare.

He instinctively reached for his phone, which he had plugged in to charge, and after a moment’s thought, sent Bai Ru a text: Are you okay? What are you up to?

After waiting for a long while with no reply, he couldn't resist calling directly, only to find her phone was switched off.

Kuang Feifan couldn't help but worry about her situation. While he was lost in thought, there were two soft knocks on his bedroom door, followed by Xu Hui’s voice from outside: “Hey, do you have anything to eat here?”

Kuang Feifan got up and opened the door. Xu Hui, a cigarette dangling from his lips, immediately asked upon seeing him, “Hey, we forgot something, you know?”

Hearing the question about food, Kuang Feifan realized they had been so caught up in talking that neither of them had eaten dinner.

Rummaging through the cabinets, they found a few packets of instant noodles and made do with a meager meal.

While stuffing noodles into his mouth, Xu Hui mumbled indistinctly, “Earlier, I’m sorry.”

Kuang Feifan offered a wry smile. “Don't mention it. Seeing you, I believe it now.”

Though he spoke casually, he never imagined that this statement would soon become reality.

Back in his room, Kuang Feifan tried calling Bai Ru again, but the phone was still off—perhaps she was “busy,” or maybe the battery had died.

He reached out to switch off the bedside lamp, but his hand paused over the switch, hovering before retracting. He lay back down, forcing his eyes shut in a feigned attempt at sleep.

Perhaps the rhythmic drumming of the rain against the window glass had a hypnotic effect. Kuang Feifan began to feel his mind grow foggy, gradually slipping into a state between waking and sleeping.

After an indeterminate time, Kuang Feifan’s mind registered an odd sensation. He snapped his eyes open—the room was pitch black. Startled, he fumbled in the dark for the lamp switch, having sworn he had left the light on. He flicked it several times; the lamp remained dead. Had the power gone out?

It was then he realized the strange sensation he’d felt earlier stemmed from the string of prayer beads on his wrist tightening uncomfortably.

Kuang Feifan shifted his wrist slightly to loosen the beads. Closing his eyes again, he decided to let his senses adjust to the darkness. Perhaps in the absence of sight, his other senses sharpened, because he distinctly heard a faint, rusty creak coming from the direction of the bedroom door, like the sound of old hinges opening.

The sound was faint and quickly gone. Kuang Feifan opened his eyes and saw that the door appeared to be pushed ajar, leaving a dark sliver of opening.

Blown open by the wind? Kuang Feifan thought hard. The windows were closed, and the main door was wedged shut with cardboard. There couldn't be a cross-breeze strong enough to swing open his bedroom door.

“Xu Hui? Is that you?” Kuang Feifan instinctively called out.

Then he realized that was impossible. Given Xu Hui’s personality, he wouldn't just push the door open a crack; besides, if he listened closely, he could hear Xu Hui’s near-earthquake-level snoring from the living room.

He sat up abruptly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness now, and aided by the faint light filtering from the window, he could clearly see a pitch-black seam where the door was open.

A dark room, a slightly open door, and Kuang Feifan sitting on the edge of the bed—a chill ran down his spine. He felt certain that behind that door, a pair of eyes was lurking in the shadows, staring fixedly at him.

He knew this feeling was heavily influenced by his recent experiences; it was psychological pressure generated by the body’s defense mechanisms, and it was hard to ignore.

He tried to rationalize it as self-comfort, a form of self-hypnosis, telling himself nothing was happening. Unfortunately, before the comfort or hypnosis could take hold, he heard a soft sigh just behind him.

He whipped his head around instinctively. Raindrops, the window, the gloomy sky—nothing outwardly frightening presented itself.

Kuang Feifan gave a self-mocking chuckle; he must have misheard. The constant frights were making him overly suspicious.

He turned back, and before his gaze could settle back on the door, he heard the faint sound of the door moving again. Then, he saw the dark seam slowly widen. Suddenly, a pair of ghastly white hands shot out from the darkness, gripping the edge of the door with visible force, fingers digging in tightly. Immediately following, a pale face slowly peered in through the crack.

As the face entered the room, it seemed to pause upon seeing Kuang Feifan sitting on the bed.

Kuang Feifan recognized the face instantly; it was the one from his recent nightmare, and it belonged to He Shaoqing.

He launched himself up, springing toward the bedroom door. Kuang Feifan was done hedging; he had only one goal: rush over, grab He Shaoqing, and perhaps deliver a solid beating.

Unexpectedly, the face and hands at the door moved faster than him. Before Kuang Feifan could reach the threshold, they whipped back into the darkness with a whoosh, and the door slammed shut with a thud.

Kuang Feifan nearly collided with the wood. He grabbed the doorknob and pulled with all his might, but the door wouldn't budge.

“Xu Hui! Xu Hui! Wake up…” Kuang Feifan shouted until his throat was raw. If He Shaoqing was outside the door, it meant both of them were in the living room.

But no matter how hard he pulled, or how hoarse his voice became, the door remained locked, and Xu Hui outside gave no sign of stirring.

He gasped for air, temporarily giving up on pulling the door. He pressed his ear against the wood, trying to discern any sounds from the other side. After listening intently for a long time, he heard nothing. Just as he was about to straighten up, he realized with a shock that he couldn't move. His body was inexplicably rigid and unresponsive. He felt an intense coldness seeping into his brain, gradually permeating his body, and his consciousness began to cloud over. He felt as if Death itself was beckoning him.

At that critical moment, he suddenly felt a surge of warmth originating from his left wrist, instantly flooding his core and spreading rapidly throughout his limbs, driving the icy coldness back. Kuang Feifan seized the opportunity to retreat swiftly, putting distance between himself and the door.

“He Shaoqing, whether it’s you or not, open this door for me now…” Kuang Feifan screamed at the door.

Naturally, there was no response from outside.

He retreated unconsciously until he reached the bedside. His gaze fell upon the bedsheet, and an idea sparked: rip the sheet into strips, use them to climb out the window, even if it meant descending from the fourth floor.

However, when he turned his head toward the window, he was horrified to see that the glass was streaming with scarlet fluid, like rain—it was blood, although he couldn't be sure of its source, he recognized it as blood.

Dream? Or reality?

In that moment, Kuang Feifan could no longer distinguish between the two.

He slumped onto the bed, crossing his hands to rest his chin, his eyes inevitably drawn to his wrist. It was then he noticed that the string of prayer beads seemed to be emitting a faint, gentle glow.

A realization struck him. He recalled that the tightening of the beads on his wrist had caused the discomfort that jolted him awake, which preceded the face appearing at the door and quickly retreating upon seeing him awake. Could the beads have issued a warning, waking him up to prevent the hostile actions of the “He Shaoqing” apparition?

Kuang Feifan couldn't help but slap his own head. He had let psychological fear completely overwhelm him, forgetting to utilize the abilities he possessed to fight against the “He Shaoqing” trying to kill him.

With this thought, he closed his eyes, striving to calm his chaotic emotions, silently chanting the "Six-Syllable Mantra." Gradually, he felt his anxiety stabilize, and the heart-pounding fear slowly receded.

Kuang Feifan stood up, continuing to chant the “Six-Syllable Mantra” with full concentration, while extending his left hand to grasp the doorknob. The door, which had been unmovable moments before, now opened with ease, yielding a narrow gap…