Chapter 10: Inviting Trouble (8)

Before, Lu Jin Zhao had thought that after the surgery, she could just cover that eye—perhaps that way she wouldn’t see things she shouldn't. But now, it was clear that path was impossible.

She calmed herself and pondered how to survive these final hours.

“Time’s running out. You go ahead with the surgery first, and... we’ll meet again afterward,” Jiang Yingzhi said farewell, her gaze meeting Lu Jin Zhao’s—one eye dull and lifeless, the other stinging painfully.

Lu Jin Zhao didn’t believe she had escaped the immediate danger, nor that the “ghost” had left. Staying here wasn’t wise. Jiang Yingzhi’s surgery was about to begin, and that ghost staring at her might still be lurking.

Leaving wouldn’t guarantee safety either. So now, she needed to confirm one thing.

By the time Lu Jin Zhao left the clinic, it was nearing midnight—the most perilous hour of the day. But she had no choice; there was no safe refuge inside the station.

Outside, the sky was pitch black. Though the streetlights prevented total darkness, the silence was absolute, and not a soul was in sight.

The faint red and blue glow from the shop signs only added to the unease.

Most shops had closed, and even those still open were empty behind glass doors and windows, with no shopkeepers in sight. It felt as if she were the only person left on the entire street.

In the dim night, even her footsteps sounded unnervingly loud, echoing faintly as if someone were closely following her pace.

Lu Jin Zhao wanted to look back but dared not.

She didn’t know if the ghost trailed her.

What if she turned and saw it?

Instead, she kept her gaze lowered to the ground, hoping to glimpse anything directly behind her—whether person or spirit. But even that offered little comfort.

“I finally understand how Lin Shuyue and the others felt.”

It was a torment, indeed.

A chill ran down her back as the sense of danger quickened her steps. At this moment, Lu Jin Zhao truly grasped how powerless ordinary people were when facing ghosts.

No way to fight back, no communication possible, and fleeing felt like a blind, frantic escape.

Even a single glance could mean death!

Only the sound of her hastening footsteps broke the silence of the night.

By memory, she reached the foot of a building—the very one where Lin Shuyue had performed her ghost-seeing ritual.

She needed to check on Lin Shuyue’s situation.

“Luckily, nothing happened on the way,” she thought, slightly relieved. But as she considered what she was about to do, her heart churned with inner conflict.

Did she really want to confirm this?

To find out if Lin Shuyue had been killed by the ghost.

If she was dead, she would retrieve the item Jiang Yingzhi mentioned.

But seeking Lin Shuyue was perilous in itself!

“If I don’t look, am I any safer?”

Her eye still stung, as if the ghost were reminding her, “I haven’t let you go yet.”

After a brief hesitation, she pulled from her pocket the sheepskin parchment she had never taken out since boarding. It was the only thing that might offer guidance, though she didn’t know what consequences its use might bring.

Taking a deep breath with a glimmer of hope, she unfolded the parchment.

But it was blank.

No words, no hint.

Her expression remained unchanged, for she had never placed full hope in the parchment.

After all, the price it demanded—“paying the cost to earn a way out”—felt ominous.

Yet its silence now was also a sign.

The parchment sensed she wasn’t desperate enough.

Not desperate enough to risk everything for survival.

Which meant the cost it demanded might be far more terrifying than she imagined.

“Indeed, until now, I haven’t felt certain death was inevitable.”

She folded the parchment and stared at the small building under the night sky, hesitating for half a minute before finally stepping inside.

Rather than passively awaiting the ghost’s attack, she chose to actively seek a way out.

Inside, it was darker than outside, and the motion-activated lights seemed broken.

Lu Jin Zhao wasn’t surprised.

In horror movies, the first thing to fail was always the light.

She turned on her phone’s flashlight, relying on its faint beam as she ascended the stairs.

Her field of vision narrowed further, and normally, this would cause a sharp plunge in one’s sense of security—some might even break down psychologically.

But for Lu Jin Zhao now, seeing less wasn’t necessarily bad.

In the confined space, the echo of footsteps grew more pronounced.

Fortunately, the small space helped her detect if someone really followed.

Apparently, no one trailed her.

At least, no one human.

Lin Shuyue’s room was on the third floor—not far, and she reached it quickly by stairs.

But as Lu Jin Zhao stepped onto the corridor and took in the scene, her heart skipped a beat.

The building was an old-style block, with long hallways on each floor connecting many single rooms. The corridor lights were out, plunging the hall into darkness. All the other doors were tightly shut—she didn’t know if their occupants were asleep or if no one was home at all.

Only one door was slightly ajar.

Faint yellow light spilled through the narrow gap like a sliver of light in an abyss.

But Lu Jin Zhao knew that this light in the darkness was more like a deadly trap.

Because that one open door with light was Lin Shuyue’s room.

And she clearly remembered they had closed that door when they left!

Who opened it after they were gone?

“...Maybe I didn’t come here for nothing.”

There was indeed “information” she needed inside—but it might be dangerous.

Steeling herself, Lu Jin Zhao slowly approached the doorway and peered through the barely three-centimeter gap.

At that single glance, a chill crawled across her scalp, and she wanted to turn and flee immediately.

Through the dim yellow light, she clearly saw Lin Shuyue sitting at the desk, her hand resting on a cup, her expression twisted in pain and grimace.

Behind her...

A ghost clung tightly to her back, gripping the hand on the cup as if fused with her.

The ghost and Lin Shuyue appeared inseparable, a dreadful union sealed in shadow.