Chapter 66

Li Chen seemed to be smiling at him from beyond the frame.

The moment this thought forced its way into his mind, Yang Siguang shuddered all over again.

Yang Siguang had no idea if he had simply become overly neurotic, but he could have sworn that the extra "Li Chen" in the otherwise motionless image was gently blinking at him.

It was clearly nothing more than a dim and blurry shadow; yet, the gaze piercing through those pale golden-brown eyes felt as tangible as reality itself...

It was a sensation with which he was intimately familiar.

Yang Siguang abruptly realized that during the many moments before Li Chen's death, he had often felt, out of nowhere, that he was being watched.

And all along, he had assumed it was merely his imagination.

So, what on earth was going on here? Why were there two Li Chens in the picture? Why did one of them look so nauseating, so bizarre and sinister?

In a daze, Yang Siguang recalled the warning Aunt Qiao had given him earlier.

The malevolent ghost the Li family had worshipped for all these years was the Ancient Mirror Immortal...

And mirrors—mirrors reflect human shadows.

A myriad of hazy thoughts gradually took shape in his mind like a scrambled jigsaw puzzle. The more anxious Yang Siguang grew, the harder it was to assemble a complete and clear picture.

In the very next second, when Yang Siguang looked closely at the image once more, he was horrified to discover that the extra "Li Chen" in the photograph seemed to have drawn slightly closer to him.

Had that bizarre figure been that close just a moment ago?

It was so close that it felt as though he were right there inside the frame, merely two or three meters away from him.

A wave of chill washed over Yang Siguang's entire body.

Subconsciously, he closed the image to escape that cloying, intense gaze. It was precisely at that moment that he received another message from Xu Lu.

[Did you see it?]

Xu Lu asked.

Yang Siguang's breath hitched.

Wait, how did Xu Lu know he had opened the image?

Before Yang Siguang could reply, a flurry of new messages squeezed into his phone's inbox.

[You must think this thing is terrifying too, right?]

[I find it terrifying as well. Let's meet up; we can't properly talk about this unless we meet in person, can we?]

No... I have no intention of meeting you at all.

[It's a deal then! (#^.^#) Let's chat in person.]

Clearly, Yang Siguang had already typed a refusal into the chat box, but for some inexplicable reason, he couldn't manage to send it.

Instead, Xu Lu's messages kept pouring relentlessly into his inbox.

[I'm almost there, wait for me.]

Xu Lu was not acting right.

Yang Siguang thought.

Or rather...

This "Xu Lu" was not the "Xu Lu" he knew at all.

Yang Siguang's heart hammered wildly.

He swiftly blocked Xu Lu's account and ignored the subsequent chain of messages flooding in—

[I've reached Binjiang Road.]

[I've reached the Yingbin Road intersection.]

[I've crossed the Renmin Road overpass.]

[I've reached West Garden Street.]

...

With an ashen face, Yang Siguang pressed the power button.

The system emitted a melodious chime, and accompanied by a slight vibration of the chassis, the screen went completely dark.

The phone was turned off.

Rapid, ragged breathing echoed through the hospital room.

Yang Siguang had never imagined that he would one day be so terrified of his own mobile phone.

Yet, just as he steeled himself to toss the device as far away as possible,

the phone—which theoretically should have been completely shut down—lit up once more.

The green chat interface reappeared on the screen.

[I'm downstairs at your hospital ward.]

Barely half a second later, the message box refreshed again.

[I'm at the door.]

[Siguang, open up.]

Almost by reflex, Yang Siguang hurled the phone away with all his might—

The metal casing collided with the wall with a sharp crash, and this time, it finally went completely silent.

However, from right outside the ward door, a series of crisp knocks rang out.

"Thump."

"Thump."

"Thump."

...

Then, Yang Siguang heard a lifeless, low murmur.

"Yang Siguang, open the door."

The voice certainly sounded like Xu Lu's... except it didn't sound like a living Xu Lu; between every syllable, a muffled, guttural rattle could be heard.

With great difficulty, Yang Siguang turned his head toward the door of the ward.

Through the narrow gap at the bottom of the door, a vague, dark shadow flickered into view. It seemed as though someone really was standing outside, rapping against the door with an unchanging, rhythmic cadence, and then speaking to him with the voice of the dead.

*

At the very peak of his accumulated panic, Yang Siguang suddenly grew calm.

He glanced at his bedside table, where a vase stood holding a bunch of brightly blooming, fresh flowers. He pulled the flowers straight out, tossing them onto the floor, and picked up the heavy porcelain vase instead.

Then, with a blank expression, he walked step by step toward the door. Amidst the relentless, pounding knocks, Yang Siguang yanked the door wide open.

"Get lost—"

"Li Chen, you psycho, can you stop fucking bugging me!"

Yang Siguang let out a heart-wrenching curse, raising the vase in his hand high toward the hallway outside.

Yet, all that met his eyes was an empty, silent corridor.

There was nothing outside the door.

"..."

*

And then, the phone that Yang Siguang had previously smashed to pieces in the far corner of the room flickered back to life.

Because the screen was completely shattered, the green chat box of the messaging app now looked blurred and washed in an ominous red.

The touch function must have suffered severe internal damage as well, for an invisible finger seemed to gently tap on the newest voice message sent by Xu Lu.

[“Darling, I’ve come in.”]

Accompanied by that smiling, muffled whisper, a pair of grayish-blue, icy hands reached out from behind Yang Siguang, tangling tightly between his fingers.

The vase slipped from his grasp, shattering into countless ceramic shards upon the floor.

Yang Siguang felt his throat tighten instantly. In the next second, an invisible, immensely powerful force seized him, hoisting him bodily into the air. The hands clamped around his neck were immaterial, yet they were bitterly cold, imbued with a lethal strength that threatened to snap his laryngeal cartilage entirely.

“Hk… Hrk…”

Yang Siguang squeezed out a few whistle-like breaths of air.

But soon, even that sound deserted him.

Within seconds, the agony of oxygen deprivation gradually blurred his consciousness.

His face flushed a deep, mottled purple.

Driven by the primal instinct to survive, he clawed desperately at his own neck, but found himself completely devoid of strength.

After failing several times to find purchase on the floor, his kicking legs also grew weak and heavy, finally dropping down limp.

His field of vision warped.

At the very moment his soul was about to tear free from his flesh, Yang Siguang dimly perceived what stood right in front of him.

It was an ashen entity, resembling both a corpse and an aged, faded waxwork.

It bared its teeth at Yang Siguang, its turbid, evil gaze brimming with bottomless greed and desire.

[“Siguang… It’s okay, it will all be over soon, and you will come with me.”]

[“We will be together forever.”]

[“Forever…”]

Following a brief flash of lucid clarity from a final surge of adrenaline, Yang Siguang finally lost all strength to struggle.

Having finally seen the true face of the malevolent ghost, his vision was gradually engulfed by a swirling black mist. A bitter cold began to seep outward from his bone marrow; his body felt as heavy as a waterlogged sack of flour, yet his soul grew abnormally light, as though it could slip out of its mortal shell at any moment...

Only those icy hands remained clamped firmly around his neck.

Whether in reality or on the spiritual plane, they never once relaxed their grip.

Ah, I'm really going to die this time.

Yang Siguang thought hazily.

Yet immediately afterward, he heard a strange, eerie whimpering. The spot on his chest where the paper figurine was kept suddenly caught fire, radiating a scorching heat that felt almost hot enough to burn him.

“Si… Sisi… &*…%￥……”

Something was there.

Something was slowly taking shape in the air.

Yang Siguang beheld the horrifying humanoid figure once more.

A body twisted and deformed by a car accident, limbs already torn apart, and a ruptured abdominal cavity. A corpse-like face utterly devoid of color and incapable of expression.

Yang Siguang watched as the "Li Chen" crushed by the wheels crawled slowly behind the malevolent ghost, drenched in blood.

The faces of the two "Li Chens" drew close to his, almost like a mirror reflection; the only difference was that one was intact and flawless, while the other was warped, shattered, and utterly terrifying.

They glared daggers at each other, then began to tear into one another in a grotesque, unnatural frenzy. A pungent, foul stench filled the air—the distinct reek of rotting blood.

The ghostly figures grew fragmented amidst their violent struggle, blood splashing everywhere.

The "hands" that had been clamped around Yang Siguang's neck mysteriously released their grip, and he plummeted heavily to the floor. He felt very little pain, managing only a faint, muffled groan.

He watched the malevolent ghost shriek, watched "Li Chen" tear the ghost apart, only for the warped shadow to reform and tear "Li Chen" apart in return.

The evil spirit let out an enraged roar, and somewhere deep within its body, Yang Siguang faintly heard the crisp, snapping sound of bones breaking.

Eyeballs, severed hands, viscera...

Everything rained down like a sudden downpour.

Yang Siguang's vision was dyed a brilliant, uniform crimson.

He struggled to concentrate, desperate to find out who was gaining the upper hand, but the black haze in his field of vision grew thicker and denser by the second.

At the very last moment before his consciousness completely faded, he saw Li Chen.

Li Chen, sprawled face down on the ground, limbs broken, dragging his shattered body forward inch by inch.

The person who had long since died crawled slowly, slowly toward him, leaving a long, crimson trail of blood in his wake.

“Sisi… &*￥#… Don't be afraid… ￥#… I… will watch over you…”

“Always… *&%…… watch…”

The dead man's icy hands gently caressed Yang Siguang's face, clumsily wiping the tears from the corners of the living human's eyes.