Xiao Mi and her group had rented out the entire floor of the hotel’s conference room.

The room was spacious, with a long wooden rectangular conference table in the center and neatly arranged chairs around it. When they arrived, several people were already seated inside—all familiar faces from the previous meeting. Zhou Jiayu counted them and realized that, indeed, no one was absent.  

However, Xiao Mi wasn’t among them. Shen Yiqiong immediately asked someone, “Why don’t I see Xiao Mi?”  

The person tilted their chin toward the restroom. “She’s in the bathroom.”  

“Oh.” Shen Yiqiong nodded in understanding.  

The conference room had an attached restroom, so Xiao Mi must have been inside. Shen Yiqiong found a seat, and the three of them sat down together, quietly waiting for Xiao Mi to come out.  

Before long, they heard a creak as the restroom door opened, followed by the sound of high heels clicking against the floor. As Zhou Jiayu listened to the noise, the image of Xiao Mi from the livestream flashed through his mind. But when Xiao Mi actually appeared before him, his breath caught in his throat.  

Xiao Mi was tall and slender, with delicate features and light, elegant makeup. At first glance, there seemed to be nothing unusual about her. But Zhou Jiayu could clearly see something on her back. At first, he thought it was just a trick of the light, but as Xiao Mi walked closer, he realized with certainty that there was indeed something foul clinging to her back.  

The thing looked like a person wrapped in long hair, silently crouched on Xiao Mi’s back. Yet Xiao Mi seemed completely unaware of it, smiling sweetly at them and saying, “You must be Shen Fu, right?”  

Shen Yiqiong, who evidently couldn’t see the thing, showed no change in expression. He replied, “Yes, I’m Shen Fu. You’re so beautiful—even prettier than you looked in the livestream.”  

No woman dislikes being complimented, and Xiao Mi was no exception. She giggled at his words, her tone softening. “You’re such a sweet talker, little brother. Are these your friends?”  

Shen Yiqiong said, “Yes.”  

Xiao Mi glanced at Lin Zhushui and Zhou Jiayu. Though her reaction wasn’t as obvious as Xiao Su’s had been, she didn’t seem particularly interested in them either, giving them a slight nod as a greeting.  

After they exchanged a few words, another newcomer arrived at the door. Xiao Mi said, “Someone else is here. I’ll go greet them.”  

As she turned to leave, Zhou Jiayu got a clear look at the thing on her back. It was indeed a humanoid figure covered in long hair, kneeling on Xiao Mi’s shoulders, its head pressed against the top of hers. Its bloodshot black eyes peered out from between the strands of hair, eerily scanning the room.  

Zhou Jiayu’s “intellectually disabled” persona helped him once again. Under normal circumstances, being stared at by such a thing would have made anyone show some reaction. But because he was acting as if he had a mental disability, any expression he made wouldn’t seem out of place. The thing’s gaze lingered on him for only a moment before disinterestedly shifting away.  

Once Xiao Mi was out of earshot, Zhou Jiayu whispered, “There’s something on her back.”  

Shen Yiqiong pretended to fiddle with his phone, keeping his head down as he replied, “What kind of thing?”  

Zhou Jiayu said, “It looks like a person wrapped in black hair…”  

Shen Yiqiong, upon hearing that, actually felt a bit relieved for once that he didn’t have Zhou Jiayu’s level of “sensitivity.”

The newcomers Xiao Mi had invited soon arrived. She checked the time, then took out her phone and started the livestream.

Shen Yiqiong opened the page of Xiao Mi’s stream and was shocked to see that as soon as it started, the viewer count jumped instantly from zero to over a million.

“So many people?” Shen Yiqiong was startled.

Zhou Jiayu glanced at it. “The numbers don’t add up. How can there be so many viewers and not a single comment?”

This idiot Shen Yiqiong said, “Then I’ll post one…”

Zhou Jiayu: “…”

And post it he did. Seriously. Shen Yiqiong earnestly typed: “Xiao Mi, you’re so pretty. We all like you.”

Zhou Jiayu was completely speechless.

There were no comments in the chat, but Xiao Mi still seemed cheerful. She enthusiastically introduced the game they’d be playing and the new guests to the stream.

“All the friends here today are so cute.” Although the livestream appeared quiet and still, Xiao Mi acted as if she were truly interacting with over a million people. She panned the phone camera around the conference room, warmly introducing everyone there.

“Which one do you like best?” she suddenly asked, a question that seemed completely out of the blue.

Zhou Jiayu had been watching her from the corner of his eye, and the moment she said that, the black thing on her back suddenly shuddered — as if it were excited by the question…

Zhou Jiayu thought their previous guess was probably right on the money.

“Today’s game,” Xiao Mi explained, “is called the Door-Opening Game.” She pointed at the door. “The more people, the better. Everyone draws a number from one to seven. Then, starting with number one, you go out the door, turn to face it, silently count to ten, then knock on the door three times. After that, number two opens the door for number one…”

Xiao Mi’s voice turned eerie: “They say that after repeating this a few times, at some point when one person opens the door for another, they’ll see something standing behind them…”

Some people in the room looked afraid, while others seemed eager to try.

“If you do see something dirty, don’t panic,” Xiao Mi said. “Whatever you do, don’t slam the door shut. Everyone inside has to blow air at the thing together — blow it away, and everything will be fine.” She suddenly chuckled, as if an amusing image had popped into her head.

The laughter had a strangely creepy undertone, and it made Zhou Jiayu feel uncomfortable.

“Well then, let’s begin,” Xiao Mi said with a smile.

Just then, the livestream — which had seemed frozen — finally exploded with comments. And not just a few, but a flood of them, densely packed until they completely covered Xiao Mi’s stream. The content of the comments was a jumbled mess — most of them didn’t even make sense if you tried to read them carefully.

Xiao Mi brought out the numbered cards and had the seven participants draw.

Shen Yiqiong drew number one, Lin Zhushui drew number seven, and the rest of the numbers were distributed among the others.

Because of Zhou Jiayu’s “special condition,” no one expected him to participate in the game. They just hoped he wouldn’t cause trouble. Shen Yiqiong found him a spot in the corner of the room, opened the stream on his phone, and coaxed him into sitting quietly like a child watching TV.

Xiao Mi still looked a little unsure and asked suspiciously, “He won’t wander around, will he?”

Shen Yiqiong said, “Nope. He loves watching TV, right, Xiaoyu?”

What else could Zhou Jiayu do? He just tilted his head and gave a goofy, honest smile.

Only then did Xiao Mi stop worrying about him and walked off.

The game was about to begin. The stream’s popularity was rapidly climbing. At first, Zhou Jiayu assumed most of the viewers weren’t human. But as the stream went on, he wasn’t so sure anymore — he couldn’t tell whether the audience was made up of humans or… something else.

Meanwhile, just a short distance away, the seven participants had lined up, ready to begin the Door-Opening Game.

Shen Yiqiong was the first to go. He opened the door and stepped out into the hotel hallway, then turned around to face the door and began silently counting to ten.

The hallway was quiet. The overhead lighting gave off a slightly orange hue, not enough to feel cold or eerie. When Shen Yiqiong reached ten, he knocked on the door three times.

Creak — the door opened. Shen Yiqiong saw the number two — a petite young girl who looked a bit nervous. She glanced over Shen Yiqiong’s shoulder but saw nothing strange, and clearly sighed in relief.

Shen Yiqiong didn’t say anything. He stepped back inside and moved to the end of the line, while the girl stepped out and closed the door behind her.

The game continued in this loop. The only sounds were the quiet breathing of the participants and the soft clicks of the door opening and closing.

Zhou Jiayu sat quietly in the conference room, the phone in front of him playing the livestream. He pretended to be watching, but his attention was entirely focused on the door.

Almost every person who stood in front of the door looked a little tense — clearly afraid of seeing something behind the person they were opening the door for.

Fortunately, two full rounds passed without incident. Just as the tension started to wear off and people were growing numb, Zhou Jiayu clearly heard the knocking — first three times, then again and again in rapid succession.

Knock knock knock knock. The relentless knocking was like needles on the nerves of the person about to open the door — a young man. He gulped and, hands trembling, reached for the doorknob. Taking a deep breath, he finally opened the door a crack and peeked outside.

There was only one person standing there. The boy clearly relaxed — but only for a second. His just-formed smile froze on his face, because everyone else could still hear the knocking continuing.

Knock knock knock. The sound kept coming — like a hammer pounding on their hearts.

“Open the door!” Xiao Mi’s sharp voice rang out.

“B-but…” the boy was terrified. “There’s something out there…”

“If you get scared, you’ll break the rules,” Xiao Mi snapped. “And if that happens, we’ll all die!”

The boy looked too shaken to think straight. His pitiful expression made people feel a bit sorry for him. Just as he hesitated and seemed about to step forward, Lin Zhushui took a step up and softly said, “If he’s too scared, then let me do it.”

Xiao Mi hadn’t expected Lin Zhushui to suddenly challenge her. She said, “You—”

“The game didn’t say we couldn’t break the order, did it?” Lin Zhushui’s tone was calm, and the trace of timidity in his expression had nearly vanished. His composed voice left Xiao Mi momentarily speechless.

“Then go ahead,” Xiao Mi said coldly. “Since you’re so brave.”

The boy’s eyes lit up when he heard that Lin Zhushui was willing to take his place, but his expression also showed some concern. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Lin Zhushui had already stepped out decisively and closed the door with a click.

The room fell silent again.

Time seemed to freeze. Zhou Jiayu began to clearly feel the temperature in the room dropping — and rapidly. A sudden strong wind blew in from outside, whipping the curtains into a chaotic frenzy.

You could hear a pin drop in the meeting room; everyone was waiting for Lin Zhushui to knock on the door.

But as time passed, the knock never came.

The boy finally couldn’t take it anymore and asked with a tremble in his voice, “Wh-what’s going on? Why hasn’t he knocked?”

“Did something happen to him?” The girl’s voice was rising in panic. “Should we open the door and check?”

“This is your fault!” Xiao Mi snapped angrily. “I told you it was your turn. Why were you so scared? Now look what’s happened…”

Realizing she was still livestreaming, she quickly turned to her phone and put on a pitiful expression. “What do I do, guys? I’m so scared. Is this guy really encountering something paranormal, or is it just a prank?”

Others might not have noticed, but Zhou Jiayu, who had been watching her stream, suddenly had a shocking realization — Xiao Mi’s voice wasn’t trembling from fear. Now that he was here in person, he could tell it was trembling from excitement.

Was she happy? Happy that something had gone wrong with the paranormal game? Dozens of thoughts flashed through Zhou Jiayu’s mind.

The temperature in the room kept dropping — and this time, it wasn’t just Zhou Jiayu who noticed. The others were starting to shiver too.

The girl hugged herself, rubbing her arms for warmth.

Xiao Mi, however, seemed unfazed. She turned to her viewers and coyly asked, “Everyone, give me some advice~ What should we do? Should we open the door and see what’s out there?”

The chat immediately exploded, most people urging her to open it.

“Okay, I’m opening it now,” Xiao Mi said, reaching for the handle.

The others tensed as she moved. With a click, the door opened easily, revealing the long hallway outside — but the person who was supposed to be there was nowhere in sight.

“Where is he?” Xiao Mi stepped out, looking around. “Did he get too scared and run away?” She seemed slightly irritated that Lin Zhushui was gone.

“AAAAAAHHHH!!” Just then, a blood-curdling scream rang out from the room — it was Girl #2, screaming in terror. “There’s a ghost! A ghost! Help—!”

The moment she screamed the word “ghost,” Zhou Jiayu noticed the light in the room dim, and the livestream on his phone froze, then went black.

Xiao Mi slammed the door shut. “Why are you screaming like that?!”

“There’s a ghost! A ghost—!” the girl pointed at the window, trembling violently.

Everyone looked where she was pointing, and their faces went stiff. Outside the window, a black shape was floating. At first glance it looked like the shadow of a tree — but then they remembered they were on the 18th floor. How could there be a tree?

“What the hell is that?” Surprisingly, Shen Yiqiong was the bravest among them. He walked over and yanked the curtain aside.

What he revealed made everyone go pale — the glass window was covered with handprints. Countless handprints, layered on top of each other, and more kept appearing, as if something outside was trying to force its way in.

“What is this?!” the girl cried, now truly on the verge of breaking down. Though she liked spooky games, this was the first time she was facing the real thing.

Zhou Jiayu saw a reflection of himself in her terror… but maybe because he’d mentally prepared for this, he actually wasn’t as scared as he’d expected.

“Stay calm!” Shen Yiqiong shouted.

“Calm? How can anyone be calm?!” another boy shouted, on the verge of losing it. “Do you think we’re all idiots? Only a moron would be calm right now!” He turned and glared hatefully at Zhou Jiayu, who had done nothing.

Zhou Jiayu, completely innocent, felt a flash of annoyance. So what if I’m a moron? It’s not like I’m eating your rice.

“Don’t be scared. I don’t think they can get in,” Shen Yiqiong said after observing the blood-streaked handprints.

But he had jinxed it — right after he said that, the glass began to crack.

“Haha, oops. My bad,” he said, awkwardly, under everyone’s glare. “Looks like they can get in.”

The meeting room was now a completely different place than before.

Though the lights were still on, the room felt gray and lifeless. And now, it wasn’t just the windows — there were sounds coming from the door as well. Everyone inside felt like prey being hunted, curled up in corners, shaking in fear.

“What do we do… what do we do…?” One girl broke down crying. “What are those things?! What are we supposed to do?!”

Even Xiao Mi’s face had gone pale. Her voice trembled as she said, “I heard… if a ghost kills you, you can’t reincarnate…”

It was as if she were deliberately trying to stir fear — the creepy things she kept saying only made the atmosphere in the room even more tense.

Even adults might have lost it in a situation like this, let alone a room full of teenagers. The cracks on the glass were getting worse, and it looked like those things might break in at any moment.

“I have an idea!” Xiao Mi suddenly said.

She looked like she had made a tough decision. “Have you ever heard of a guardian spirit?”

“Guardian spirit? What’s that?” Shen Yiqiong shook his head.

“It’s a kind of spirit. Once you make a contract with it, other ghosts can’t hurt you.” Xiao Mi explained quickly. “Actually… I already have a guardian spirit. If you all sign a contract with it, I think you’ll be safe. It will protect you.” Zhou Jiayu saw clearly — the black mass behind her neck, half hidden in her hair, began to tremble with excitement as she spoke.

“So? Do you want to sign?” Xiao Mi asked.

“Are there… any side effects?” Shen Yiqiong, still relatively calm, questioned her. Only he and Zhou Jiayu hadn’t panicked completely.

“Side effects? What side effects?” Xiao Mi said coldly. “If you don’t sign, you’ll die.”

She seemed surprised that Shen Yiqiong was still so composed. Her tone turned irritable. “Those things are almost inside!”

“But making a deal with something like this never comes without a price.” Shen Yiqiong remained unshaken. He had realized — Xiao Mi was the one panicking now, not out of fear, but out of urgency.

“Then fine, I don’t care about you!” Xiao Mi snapped, her face twisting with rage. “Go die alone, then! What about the rest of you?” She turned to the others.

“Um…” The others hesitated. Maybe Shen Yiqiong’s calm had affected them — they seemed to sense something wasn’t right with this contract.

“If you don’t sign, you’ll die!” Xiao Mi shouted. “You’ll really die!” Just as she said this, the banging from outside grew louder, almost like it was urging them to hurry.

“I’ll sign, I’ll sign!” Finally, someone broke down. The first to cave was Girl #2, crying with fear as she looked toward the window. “I’ll sign, okay?”

“Good,” Xiao Mi grinned. That grin was grotesque, stretching across her face, making her look monstrous. “Come on, then.”

Just as she reached into her pocket to pull something out, her phone suddenly rang.

The ringtone echoed through the silent room. She looked at the caller ID, hesitated for a moment, and then answered the call.

“Hello?” Her voice trembled slightly. “Wh-What is it?”

As soon as she asked, everyone in the room clearly heard a beast-like roar coming from the phone. Even though she hadn’t put it on speaker, the sound was unmistakably loud. It wasn’t like any animal they had ever heard—it sounded more like a human scream. Of course, whatever was capable of making that noise might not even be human.

To everyone else, it was just a terrifying roar. But in Xiao Mi’s ears, it seemed to carry another meaning. Sweat began to bead on her forehead, her face turning truly pale. She said, “I’ve prepared the offerings. I really have. They’re right next door… seven of them, a full seven…”

There was silence on the other end.

“That’s impossible!” Xiao Mi suddenly shrieked. “It’s impossible! I saw them with my own eyes—” As she spoke, she suddenly rushed to the door, trying to open it.

Everyone hurried to stop her. The thing outside was still pounding on the door—if she opened it now, wouldn’t she be letting it in directly?

“It’s over. Everything is over.” The call ended. Xiao Mi collapsed to the ground in a daze, cold sweat dripping from her chin onto the floor. “Everything… is over.”

Seeing this, Shen Yiqiong stepped forward and asked what had happened.

Xiao Mi shook her head hard and began sobbing on the floor. “They’re gone. They’re gone.” As she spoke, Zhou Jiayu clearly saw the black mass that had been clinging to her shoulder slowly wriggling downwards, inching its way toward the ground.

At the same time, strands of Xiao Mi’s thick black hair began falling out one by one.

The scene was horrifying—but also, strangely, a little funny. A thought popped into Zhou Jiayu’s head… Could the thing Xiao Mi was worshipping actually be some kind of wig spirit?

---

Author’s Note:

Zhou Jiayu: Sir, am I really mentally challenged?

Lin Zhushui: Anyone who dares say you’re mentally challenged—I’ll beat them till they are.

Zhou Jiayu: Sir, you’re so kind.

Lin Zhushui: Of course. My little silly fish is the smartest.

Zhou Jiayu: ……..