Old Hou felt a sudden chill on his wrist and recoiled in alarm, instinctively taking a step back, only to collide squarely with a flatbed cart behind him.

With a dull clang, the flatbed lurched forward slightly, startling him again. But as he regained his composure and looked closely, he saw the female corpse before him hadn't moved an inch, as if his previous sensation had been merely a trick of the mind. Yet, when his gaze fell upon the corpse's hand, his eyes widened in horror—that hand was now resting upon the body itself.

A sheen of cold sweat instantly broke out on Old Hou’s forehead. To be fair, he had often seen bodies twitch after death; scientifically, it was merely the residual action of neurons in the body.

He recalled once seeing a deceased person suddenly sit up in the morgue, but that case was due to pufferfish toxin inducing a state of suspended animation. Of course, even when that person sat up, it was due to external stimuli affecting the body after ingesting the poison, and ultimately, that person had not truly been revived.

Having spent so much time in the morgue, he had witnessed all sorts of bizarre occurrences, but for some reason, Old Hou felt this particular female corpse was profoundly wrong, utterly steeped in something sinister.

Old Hou dared not hesitate any longer. He spun around and rushed to the door. Beside the morgue entrance was a storage cabinet; he yanked open one door and retrieved a red cloth bundle. Inside, he found an antique bronze censer, which he placed near the doorway. Then, pulling out three sticks of incense, he lit them with a slightly trembling hand, stuck them into the censer, and finally breathed a sigh of relief. Without looking back, he pulled the door open and walked out.

He had to ensure those three sticks of incense burned completely before returning, Old Hou reminded himself as he headed toward the duty room.

But he soon realized he had encountered a major problem. Normally, walking down the corridor to the end led straight to the duty room, a matter of mere minutes. But now, from the moment he stepped out and started walking toward the duty room, the corridor ahead seemed to stretch endlessly. Looking out, anything slightly distant appeared blurry, as if veiled in mist. Furthermore, the corridor's ceiling, normally over three meters high, now seemed poised to crush down upon him. The walls on either side were visibly narrowing, and the surroundings felt as if they were closing in to envelop him. This suffocating pressure made Old Hou panic involuntarily. He quickened his pace, and the sound of his soles scraping against the cement floor created a continuous echo, as if everything was grating against his heart, or perhaps like countless unseen entities whispering secrets in the dark.

Old Hou couldn't help but press a hand to his chest. He found that everything before his eyes began to waver, as if the walls and ceiling were threatening to collapse. It felt as though he were adrift in a small boat during a violent storm. This vertigo made Old Hou nauseous, the urge to vomit churning up into his throat in waves. He had to spread his arms to steady himself against the wall, his steps stumbling like those of a drunken man, leaning on the wall to continue forward. No matter what, he had to get back to the duty room.

By the end, Old Hou was moving almost unconsciously, driven only by instinct. Gritting his back teeth, he finally stumbled into the duty room. As soon as he was inside, he collapsed onto the floor, drenched in sweat, feeling a profound sense of having survived a disaster.

After panting heavily for a moment, he managed to pull himself up from the floor, staggered to the bedside, and frantically searched beneath the pillow. Finally, near the snap closure of the pillowcase, he found a yellow talisman folded into a triangle.

Old Hou’s eyes immediately lit up. Grasping the talisman tightly as if it were a lifeline, he held it in a death grip. This talisman had been given to him by the old Taoist master, rumored to be very effective against evil spirits, but only to be used when real danger arose. For years after receiving it, Old Hou had often felt the urge to use it but never found the right opportunity. Later, he had almost forgotten about it entirely. Today’s events were truly terrifying, prompting him to finally remember the charm.

Whether it was psychological or not, shortly after gripping the talisman, Old Hou felt a sense of peace wash over him, and his breathing eased.

But just as he began to relax, before he could fully collect his thoughts, a sound suddenly filtered in from outside the door—Wuuu…—like the howling winter wind, or perhaps a mournful, sorrowful whimper.

Old Hou sucked in a sharp breath. He realized the three incense sticks burning inside had evidently done nothing. How could there be wind in a basement? That was clearly a cry outside the door, and it sounded distinctly like weeping filled with grievance.

Sitting in the duty room, Old Hou felt an icy chill course through him. He subconsciously stood up, rushed to the door, locked it, and then leaned against it weakly, his heart now pounding a frantic thump-thump-thump.

He couldn't tell how long passed before the sound outside abruptly ceased, as if cut off instantly.

Old Hou stiffened. He had no way of knowing the situation outside. Had it passed?

After hesitating for a long while, he couldn't resist reaching out again, opening the door, and quickly sticking his head out to look left and right. The corridor appeared normal, suggesting everything was back in order.

Old Hou pondered for a good while, then decisively stomped his foot, pulled the door open, and walked straight toward the morgue.

This time, the bizarre phenomena he had encountered in the corridor did not reappear; he reached the morgue door smoothly.

However, the moment he arrived at the threshold, he felt icy tendrils of cold air seeping out from the gap beneath the door. Before his hand could even grasp the doorknob, the morgue door silently swung inward.

Watching the door open slowly, Old Hou’s heart nearly stopped beating. He desperately wanted to turn and flee, but as if bewitched, his legs inexplicably refused to obey, and he shuffled slowly inside.

Under the stark, pale light of the fluorescent tubes, the censer that had been on the floor near the doorway was overturned. Looking up into the room, the air was thick with a chilling, spectral atmosphere.

Suddenly, Old Hou’s eyes snapped wide open. On the flatbed in the center, where the female corpse had been placed, a large section of the white sheet hung down to the floor, and the female corpse that had lain upon it was gone.

Extremely horrified, Old Hou instinctively scanned the room, but due to his heightened tension, he failed to notice the precise details. Just then, the several flatbeds inside the room began to move slowly, as if something were pushing the wheels at the corners of the beds. Old Hou’s gaze immediately dropped downward.

In that instant, a ghastly white object swam into his vision, slowly writhing—it was the female corpse. But now, she was prone on the floor, resting on all fours. Her bloodless skin held a faint greenish tinge under the harsh light. Since her hair was dishevelled, her face was obscured.

Perhaps sensing Old Hou’s gaze, she slowly raised her head. In that moment, man and corpse met eyes…