"Yingzi! Xiumu!" I pounded frantically on the metal walls of the water tank. "Open the lid! Hurry, open the lid!"
No one answered.
I was panicking. The air inside wasn't circulating at all. After just a few shouts, I felt dizzy, short of breath.
My arms grew weak, and the phone slipped from my palm.
The tank wasn't large, but I couldn't find the way out. I scrambled, inch by inch, gasping for breath, until my face turned purple and the veins in my neck bulged like cords.
I had never experienced anything like this. In this sealed metal container, I finally tasted real fear.
Not the fear of ghosts—but the pure, instinctual terror of death.
Starved for oxygen, I clawed at my own face, leaving bloody gashes beneath my nails. It was unbearable. I couldn't even scream. Curled up at the bottom of the tank, I was like a fish left to dry on land.
"Why did you kill me?"
That voice returned, muffled but unmistakable, dragging me deeper into delirium.
With great effort, I forced my eyes open—and I saw him.
A boy with a bleeding little finger jumped into the tank. He personally slammed the lid shut and slowly sank into the cold, black void.
Alone, terrified, he was swallowed by darkness. As death crept in, his body thrashed instinctively, trying to survive. He cried out. Begged. But no one came. Eventually, his organs shut down. His body grew stiff and cold.
"I didn't want to die. So why did you kill me?"
That lifeless corpse floated beside me, eyes bulging like a dead fish, staring straight at me.
"Why did you kill me?"
Half-unconscious, I tried to push him away with the last of my strength—but it was no use.
His icy hands wrapped around my throat.
"Why did you kill me!"
Smack!
A sharp slap across my face shattered the darkness like a mirror.
A delicate face appeared in front of mine.
"Yingzi?" I blinked. I was lying inside the tank, my body soaked.
The boy, the voice, everything I saw—it was all gone, like a hallucination.
"You okay?" Xiumu's voice came from above the tank. "Thank god Yingzi realized something was wrong. If she hadn't pulled you out, you might never have woken up."
I stumbled to my feet, leaned over the water inlet, and greedily gulped in fresh air.
"I think… I think I saw how Guo Junjie died. He was screaming, struggling… saying you all killed him."
"Back then, everyone at Xinhu High was scared for their lives. Who would've cared what happened to him?" Xiumu said. "Honestly, if we'd killed him earlier, maybe none of this would've happened. Guo Junjie's always been watching us from the shadows. He's not going to let you investigate so easily."
What he said made sense. The ghost's resentment was overwhelming—he could kill me at any moment.
And honestly, I was scared out of my mind. That illusion, or whatever it was, got me good. Even now, my chest felt tight. I probably wouldn't be stepping into any small, dark spaces for a while.
"Yingzi, stay here with me for a bit. I'm still rattled."
Whether she was human or not, at least she'd saved me. That deserved some trust.
I picked up my fallen phone and shined the flashlight into the corner of the tank. The tattered school uniform was still there.
"This must be one of Guo Junjie's personal effects."
I laid it out on the metal surface. The back looked normal, but near the chest area was a large blackened bloodstain.
Something felt off. The blood had soaked the uniform from the chest outwards, and the stain was uniform—not the kind you'd expect from a stabbing or puncture.
I pressed the darkest part of the bloodstain against my own chest.
"This is right over the heart."
What kind of wound bleeds like that, evenly, and doesn't stop?
Only one answer came to mind: skinning.
I thought back to how Guo Junjie had cut off his own pinky and given it to Shen Meng as a gift. Whatever pity I'd felt for him was now completely gone.
"He's a total lunatic. Still looked human, but everything he did was straight-up demonic—twisted and completely beyond reason."
I searched the uniform pockets and found a class photo, but it had been soaked too long. Everyone's faces had blurred beyond recognition.
"If he died still clutching this, it's not because he missed anyone. More likely, he turned it into a cursed item. He wanted everyone in that photo to die horribly."
I tucked the photo into my pocket with Guo Junjie's final love letter and scanned the tank one last time. No more clues.
"Let's go. To the incinerator. It's time to end this nightmare."
Climbing out of the tank, I felt the trip had been worthwhile. All that remained now was to follow the trail and find Guo Junjie's body.
The school's waste disposal pit was in the farthest corner of campus. The deeper we went, the more overgrown and desolate the place felt.
A cold wind slipped under my clothes. Thinking about all the bodies likely buried beneath our feet, I instinctively sped up.
"There it is!"
Two sheds sat near the school's perimeter wall. The door was locked, and the windows were covered with strange sealing talismans.
"This is where we stop," Xiumu said grimly. Just being near the incinerator made his skin crack. "We can't go any further."
"Don't worry. I've got this."
The talismans clearly had something to do with his reaction. I stepped closer and examined the window.
All of the seals were covered in bizarre symbols. I'd learned my lesson from Anxin Motel, so I didn't tear them down recklessly.
"Time to consult the experts."
I called out for help in the livestream.
Most replies were either scammers or clout-chasers, spewing nonsense. Very few were actually helpful.
"Is Liu Banxian from Qingcheng Mountain online? Anyone seen Liu Banxian?"
No luck. He wasn't streaming today.
"Yuanchen Soul-Hanging Seal? Just a low-tier paper talisman—rip it and move on?"
One message caught my eye. The user who posted it had the handle Daoist Master Wanyi.
It wasn't that his comment made the most sense. It was the way he said it—with godlike arrogance, as if he were the only one under heaven who knew the truth.
"Folks, we've got a life-or-death situation here. Any real advice?"
"Call the cops! That's our chat's tradition—panic, then dial 911!"
"Cops? Screw that. Kick the door three times, then use your butt to disrupt the evil aura with internal chi. That's what my grandmaster taught me: Only by kicking the widow's door at night can you ascend to true manhood. Let me explain with quotes from ancient texts—"
"God, what a bunch of clowns. Listen to me, streamer. I'm a real pro. Graduated from Harbin Buddhist College, third cohort. Mastered the Guanyin Sitting Style—"
The danmu flew by like a storm, but I kept my eyes on Master Wanyi.
"Yuanchen is one of the Eight Fate Fiends," he wrote. "Also called 'Great Loss.' Extremely inauspicious. When it appears, misfortune follows—especially dangerous at the end of a strong luck cycle. A man cursed by it becomes vile, crude, gluttonous. A woman becomes unlucky, unruly, and disgraceful. Such people give birth to cursed children."
"The corpse inside that room bore Yuanchen in life. Now dead, it's become a grounded, wrathful spirit. Regular seals are useless. This Yuanchen Soul-Hanging Seal only holds it temporarily."
I stared at his message. I didn't understand most of the jargon, but it sounded way more legit than anything else I'd seen.
"Master Wanyi, do you have any method to eliminate this Yuanchen Fiend? Please, I'm all ears."
"You, a mere mortal, dare challenge Yuanchen?" he replied. "Laughable. Utterly laughable."
That sounded familiar. Liu Banxian had said something similar—but at least he'd been a bit more polite.
"Master, if your knowledge is truly unmatched, I humbly ask for your guidance. I'd be eternally grateful."
"Unmatched might be an understatement," he huffed. "But fine. Today, I'll grant you a life-saving technique."
The chat exploded with mocking emojis. Everyone thought he was just another delusional edgelord.
Even I wasn't sure—was he the real deal or just a next-level roleplayer?
"You're ignorant and talentless. If you want to banish Yuanchen, you'll need reckless courage—only by charging headlong into peril can you find the sliver of hope hidden in death."
"Master, please skip the proverbs and tell me what to do."
"Yuanchen is ferocious. Without death, there is no transformation. Without slaughter, no authority. You must empty your heart of doubt. Step into that tomb of corpses and ghouls. Find the body cursed by Yuanchen…"
"…and carry it on your back."
"Wait, carry the corpse?!"
"Find a place where the moonlight shines bright. Climb high—and hurl the body down."
"If it shatters to pieces, the curse will be broken, and you'll live."
"But if its hatred remains intact…"
"…then you will die."