Shen Yao’s emotions shifted from initial indifference, to irritation, to unease, and finally to a chilling sense of dread.
The reason was simple: this person who called themselves a “Consignment Master” described everything in such detail, and with such sincerity, that it didn’t sound like the ramblings of a lunatic talking about the supernatural, but rather like a detective who had witnessed something bizarre.
The details they described matched perfectly with the news reports—no, they were even more detailed.
Shen Yao noticed the post’s date: it had been posted a week ago—at that time, there hadn’t even been an official announcement about the incident in the news.
So how did this person know so much?
Reading further, Shen Yao realized that not a single person on the forum questioned the post.
Instead, all the replies were, “Thanks for sharing, OP,” “Thank you, Consignment Master, for the warning!”
Absurd!
Ridiculous!
Was there not a single normal person on this forum?
Shen Yao looked up at Qiao Yunxue.
In the red-haired girl’s eyes, he saw a dazzling, almost demonic light.
It felt as if this passionate, obsessed version of her was the real Qiao Yunxue, while the aloof, indifferent side was just a mask.
“Well, do you believe it now?” she asked.
“Strange things do exist in this world. Modern networks, telephones, and transportation haven’t erased them—instead, they’ve made them more real and powerful.”
“Shen Yao, help me. Help me find those hidden anomalies in reality.”
Her tone was pleading, and Shen Yao almost nodded.
He already had a good impression of Qiao Yunxue—being shaken by her was perfectly normal.
“Why… me?” he asked, his voice strained.
“Because you were the first,” she said.
“The first person who didn’t avoid me because of those terrifying rumors, the first who didn’t call me crazy when I spoke.”
“Because I’m an honest person,” Shen Yao said, hitting the nail on the head.
Qiao Yunxue looked away slightly.
“…That’s also part of it.”
Shen Yao shook his head.
“You overestimate me. I’m no different from the others. I wouldn’t change my worldview because of some rumors on the internet. There are no monsters or ghosts in this world.”
He hefted his backpack.
“If that’s all, I’ll head home.”
As he was about to step out of the study, Qiao Yunxue called out to him for the third time.
“Wait. Shen Yao.”
Shen Yao could have ignored her and left—his task was done.
But for some inexplicable reason, he stopped, waiting for Qiao Yunxue to say something that would make him stay.
“If you don’t believe me… why not stay here tonight and give it a try…”
She said.
“This villa—once, a woman died here. So, it’s considered a Spirit House heavy with yin energy.”
“Try what?”
Shen Yao turned back.
Qiao Yunxue pointed to the Pink Landline on the computer desk.
The surface was spotless, engraved with an English Brand Name in the corner—far more valuable than he had imagined.
Again, that chilling sense of dread.
It was clearly his first time seeing this phone, yet he felt as if he already knew some terrifying event had occurred here.
“At midnight, dial the number and see if anyone answers.”
She spoke calmly, but her words sent chills down Shen Yao’s spine.
“Stay, I’ll have Auntie arrange a guest room for you. I’ll send you to school tomorrow, okay?”
She looked at Shen Yao.
“If you think I’m crazy, then leave—and please, don’t ever get involved with me again.”
“But if you’re willing to believe me, then stay.”
Shen Yao’s throat tightened.
He felt as if his life had split in two at this moment.
One path led to a smooth, empty future; the other, to a rugged, dark abyss.
“So, Shen Yao, will you?”
—
Cheng Cheng walked out of the convenience store, holding a snow globe in her hand.
She looked at the snow globe, feeling a pang of regret—it cost 12 yuan, a fortune for a high school student.
Her friends crowded around her.
“Cheng Cheng, why did you buy that? Are you giving it to someone?”
Cheng Cheng nodded.
“Isn’t Shen Yao going to confess to Qiao Yunxue?”
“I figured Qiao Yunxue doesn’t seem easy to get along with, so Shen Yao might get hurt. I thought I’d give him a gift to cheer him up later…”
She stopped mid-sentence, noticing the strange expressions on the others’ faces.
“Cheng Cheng, and you say you don’t care about Shen Yao.”
“He’s my good bro—of course I care. But not in the way you mean between a man and a woman.”
Cheng Cheng brushed her short hair, revealing her pretty neck.
“What if Qiao Yunxue agrees to Shen Yao?”
Cheng Cheng froze, then gave an exaggerated smile.
“How could that happen? How could Qiao Yunxue be interested in Shen Yao? She’s the type of rich girl…”
“What if—just what if—she likes honest guys?”
Cheng Cheng kept smiling and shook her head.
“There’s no such ‘what if.’ And even if my good bro finds someone, I’d just be happy for him.”
After their jokes, Cheng Cheng parted from her friends and returned home.
She went through her usual routine—dinner, shower, homework.
Before bed, she suddenly remembered something.
She told her parents, then picked up the gift box and walked to Shen Yao’s house next door.
Shen Yao’s house was tightly shut, with a vegetable patch in front—most of the greens were already wilted.
She knocked on the door, feeling cheerful.
“Shen Yao, are you home?”
No response.
Cheng Cheng stepped back, noticing that the lights inside were still off.
She felt puzzled.
“Are Shen Yao and his aunt both out? It’s normal for his aunt to be away, but where did Shen Yao go?”
She looked down at the gift box in her hand.
“Forget it. I’ll give it to him before school tomorrow.”
—
In the end, Shen Yao chose to stay.
Maybe it was because he still had feelings for Qiao Yunxue, or maybe he was truly wavering—or both.
He temporarily stayed at the Qiao Family Villa, too anxious to appreciate the luxurious furnishings—his mind was filled only with apprehension about what was to come.
At 11:30 p.m., Qiao Yunxue knocked on the guest room door.
Shen Yao opened the door to find the red-haired girl in pajamas, looking more fragile and domestic than she had during the day.
She held a flashlight, illuminating only a small area ahead in the pitch-black corridor.
She didn’t say anything extra, not wanting to wake Auntie and the Driver downstairs.
She just gave Shen Yao a look.
He silently followed, the door closing behind them with a creaking sound that set his teeth on edge.
They walked down the dark hallway, unable to see what lay ahead—even if there was an abyss in front of them, they’d have no way to know.
The flashlight’s beam was dim, barely cutting through the darkness.
The oppressive atmosphere made Shen Yao feel as if someone was following behind him, but when he looked back, he saw only blackness.
“Is this place really a Spirit House?”
He felt chills down his spine.
Qiao Yunxue answered calmly.
“My mother died here.”
Shen Yao paused.
“Sorry.”
Qiao Yunxue didn’t respond.
She led him to the study and carefully opened the door.
Shen Yao reached for the light switch, but Qiao Yunxue stopped him.
“Auntie gets up at night. If she sees the study light on, she’ll complain to my dad.”
She shook her head.
“Don’t turn on the lights. Use the flashlight.”
Late at night, in a dark room, with only the ambiguous scent of the girl beside him, everything felt unsettling.
The flashlight beam swept through the study, revealing only a small part—who knew what else was hidden in the darkness?
Finally, the weak light fell upon the Pink Landline.
Qiao Yunxue’s voice trembled.
“There it is.”
Shen Yao hesitated.
“Have you seen a ghost before?”
“That was a long time ago, when I was still a child. This is the closest I’ve come to a ghost.”
She answered honestly.
“What if the call doesn’t go through?”
“……There will be other chances.”
She didn’t intend to give up.
Shen Yao realized she might have tried many times before, always ending in disappointment.
Humans are complicated creatures—pathetic, laughable, even hateful.
Shen Yao walked to the Pink Landline, hesitated for a long time, and finally picked up the receiver.
Logically, this was just a pointless ghost-hunting attempt—the call shouldn’t go through.
So why was he nervous?
Was he really being influenced by Qiao Yunxue?
Qiao Yunxue recited her own phone number.
“0918-47277…”
Beep beep beep beep…
Shen Yao pressed the buttons in order, ending with the pound key.
He put the receiver to his ear.
A current buzzed in the phone, followed by a short dial tone.
Qiao Yunxue looked expectant, as if desperately hoping to “encounter a ghost.”
Normally, the call would disconnect, indicating it couldn’t be completed.
But.
The dial tone continued.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Still trying to connect.
Sweat began to bead on Shen Yao’s forehead.
He finally realized how rash his decision had been.
The fact that the call wasn’t immediately disconnected already indicated something was wrong—this was a call that shouldn’t have gone through at all!
If the call really connected, who would be on the other end?
Murphy’s Law says that the more you fear something bad, the more likely it is to happen.
When the call finally connected, the taut string in Shen Yao’s mind snapped.
How could it connect?
How was it possible?
Qiao Yunxue showed a tearful, joyful expression—as if she’d finally found what she’d been seeking.
Shen Yao didn’t speak.
It was the man on the other end who spoke first.
“Hello.”
The voice was solemn, broadcast-like, thick and magnetic—like a news anchor on TV.
Sweat dripped from Shen Yao’s forehead onto the receiver.
“……Hello…”
“Hmm… Where are you?”
The man didn’t seem to care who had called.
“……I… who are you?”
Shen Yao was drenched in cold sweat.
The man didn’t answer, but asked again.
“Are you at home?”
Qiao Yunxue mouthed: Answer him. Don’t hang up.
Shen Yao had no choice but to say,
“I’m not at home. I’m at someone else’s house.”
“……Then where are you now?”
Qiao Yunxue mouthed again: Yunfu Street.
“……I’m on Yunfu Street.”
“Which Yunfu Street?”
The man replied quickly.
“Hua Province, Yaoguang City.”
“……”
A strange sound came from the other end.
“I’ve arrived at Yaoguang City. Then?”
I’ve arrived at Yaoguang City? What does that mean?
“……Yunfu Street.”
The strange sound came again.
“I’m at Yunfu Street. Where are you now?”
Qiao Yunxue continued mouthing: Keep going south.
Shen Yao suppressed his growing unease.
“You… you keep going south.”
“I’ve already gone south. I’m at the intersection. Then where?”
What’s with this man on the other end?
Where is he? How can he move so far so quickly?
Qiao Yunxue: Tell him. Go straight to the villa district.
But this time, Shen Yao didn’t follow her instructions.
He looked through the study’s glass toward the outside—he knew this was the villa district.
“Where are you… hello, where are you?”
The broadcast-like man on the other end grew more anxious as Shen Yao didn’t answer.
“I’ve already gone south. Where are you now?”
Shen Yao had the feeling that if he said “go straight to the villa district,” the man would immediately appear outside the window.
No…
Was that really a human?
Was the person on the other end, who kept asking for his location and getting closer, really a human?
Qiao Yunxue urged softly.
“Tell him—go straight…”
The broadcast voice grew more impatient.
“Where are you? Hurry up! If you don’t tell me, I’ll find you myself! Hurry!”
“……Who are you…”
Shen Yao asked back.
“I asked where you are! I’ve already gone south! Should I go straight? Should I go to the villa district? I am—”
Click.
Shen Yao slammed down the receiver, leaving Qiao Yunxue stunned.
“You… why did you do that… we were so close to an encounter, why…”
Qiao Yunxue’s tone was tinged with anger.
But Shen Yao was drenched in cold sweat.
“I never told him where to go, nor mentioned the villa district. He shouldn’t know.”
“Then you shouldn’t have hung up!”
“I felt unsafe!”
Shen Yao retorted without hesitation.
“I don’t care how much you want to encounter the unknown, but life only happens once… The person on the other end was extremely strange. I don’t want to talk to him anymore—it’s that simple!”
Qiao Yunxue’s eyes were red.
She pushed Shen Yao away.
“If you won’t do it, I will.”
She reached to dial the number again.
Shen Yao couldn’t help grabbing her hand.
“Calm down!”
Qiao Yunxue shook him off, stubbornly dialing her own number.
But no matter how many times she tried, the call wouldn’t connect.
“Why… why can’t I get through?”
She looked on the verge of tears.
“Do I lack ‘inspiration’?”
Shen Yao didn’t answer.
He was already deeply doubting his worldview.
There was no doubt—the one who answered the call was not a normal human.
The best possible guess was: he had misdialed and reached a Psychiatric Hospital, and a patient happened to pick up.
But… could such absurd coincidences really exist?
If he kept answering the man’s questions, would he have ended up like that girl?
And by hanging up so abruptly, would he enrage the man on the other end?
Everything was unknown.
Everything made him uneasy.
Most importantly, he realized Qiao Yunxue might not be the lunatic everyone claimed she was.
Maybe those strange things she spoke of really did exist.
If they were born from human fear, then fear spread online must be hundreds or thousands of times greater than in ancient times…
Just thinking about the endless information circulating on the internet—vulgar, backward, superstitious, bloody, eerie—who could imagine how many anomalies might be hiding within, buried in posts from countless users?
If what Qiao Yunxue said was true, then this might be the most terrifying Cyber Ghost Tale of all.