Chapter 266: The Pale Face at the Window

May 20, 2022

The main gate to the apartment complex was already closed. Zhao Mingkun glanced back at me, still straddling the motorbike. She killed the engine, pointed at the wall, and then patted the back seat. I realized then what she meant—she wanted me to stand on the motorbike to climb over the wall.

Standing on the motorbike made it way easier to get over the wall. While I was still wondering if the bike would be steady enough without anyone holding it, I blinked and saw Zhao Mingkun was already up on the wall.

She gave my shoulder a pat and said, “Earlier, when I was talking to that old woman, she told me where these people live and work now. For everyone she could still contact, all thirteen are living and working here in Dongxing City. It’s unlikely any of them will leave the city anytime soon.”

Zhao Mingkun led me into a residential building, and just by glancing at the architecture I knew there wouldn’t be any security cameras here. That meant we had no way to check if anyone had broken into Luo Ding’s place to play ghostly tricks. The building only had six floors, and Luo Ding lived in 601.

As we climbed the stairs, Zhao Mingkun already had Luo Ding’s number ringing on her phone.

Compared to where Liu Ruize or even Hu Pei used to live, Luo Ding’s place was even more run-down. The motion-sensor lights in the hallways barely worked, so it was pitch-black as we walked. I had to use my phone to light our way. Zhao Mingkun kept trying Luo Ding’s number, but there wasn’t a peep from inside.

Shaking her head as she checked her phone, Zhao Mingkun muttered, “Could Luo Ding really not be home? Maybe he just disappeared somewhere.”

I hesitated. “Honestly, no idea… But Luo Ding said it himself, that the ghost of Lü Zhiqiu was following everyone. No matter where he went, the ghost would be there. So even if he tried to run, he’d still end up back home eventually, right?”

All the way up to the sixth floor, Zhao Mingkun never managed to get through to Luo Ding.

In these old buildings, not even an extra security door outside—just one flimsy wooden door between us and the apartment. I knocked hard, making it rattle, but there was no response at all from inside.

I shrugged. “No idea where Luo Ding’s gone. Looks like even picking up the phone is a challenge for him. He’s not married, doesn’t look like the type with many friends either, doubt he has anywhere else to stay.”

“Let’s go,” I said to Zhao Mingkun.

But Zhao Mingkun stayed put, closing her eyes like she was tuning into something.

“Shh, listen carefully,” Zhao Mingkun whispered.

Seeing her like that, I closed my eyes too, trying to hear what she did. Sure enough, in the darkness, I picked up a soft, faint sound—almost like music quietly playing in the pitch-black space.

I held my breath, straining to figure out exactly where the sound was coming from.

Suddenly, Zhao Mingkun spoke up. “That sound—it’s coming from inside Luo Ding’s apartment.”

I pressed my ear right up against the door. Sure enough, I could clearly hear a gentle melody coming from inside.

“That’s Luo Ding’s ringtone!” I blurted.

Zhao Mingkun looked at me. “That means he’s in there. If…”

Before she could finish, a scream tore through the air, so loud and raw it nearly burst my eardrum since my ear was pressed to the door. I jerked back, but I could tell exactly whose voice it was.

“Ah! Ah…” More screams followed.

We could hear it in his voice—pure, soul-scarring terror. Luo Ding’s cries were shaky, on the verge of tears. Clearly he’d run into something truly horrifying again. Zhao Mingkun and I locked eyes and lunged at the door.

The wooden door gave way with a loud crack, and both of us slipped inside.

The second we burst in, Luo Ding’s screams went silent. I flicked all the switches on the wall, flooding the apartment with light. Just then, a white shadow flashed past the living room window and vanished outside.

That glimpse sent my heart racing. The thing was a deathly pale face. Its features weren’t clear, but where its eyes should have been, there was nothing but empty black voids. The face was much larger than a normal person’s, and just as I turned on the lights it slipped out of sight.

I rushed to the window but saw nothing outside. Everything seemed perfectly calm. It almost felt like that giant face I saw never existed.

Making it even weirder, the window was closed. That meant the face had somehow passed straight through the glass.

I flung the window open and stuck my head out, but still—nothing.

I stared, stunned. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, there’s no way I’d believe things this bizarre could happen.

Zhao Mingkun was right beside me, poking her head out to check too.

“I didn’t just imagine that, did I?” I asked Zhao Mingkun.

Her face was grim. From her expression I could tell she’d seen that face by the window too.

“No,” Zhao Mingkun replied, looking at me. “I saw it as well. It disappeared outside the window in an instant.”

Suddenly, I spun around as something else hit me. “Where’s Luo Ding?”

Luo Ding was nowhere in the living room. The room was total chaos—tables upended, broken cups and plates littering the floor, beer cans everywhere. Couch cushions and tissues were all over the place. You could tell just from looking that his life had fallen apart.

Zhao Mingkun and I frantically searched every room for Luo Ding. But after a full sweep, there was still no trace of him.

“Where is he?” Zhao Mingkun said. “How does a fully grown man just vanish?”

We’d just heard his terrified screams, but by the time we entered, he was gone. Could he have disappeared in an instant, just like that ghostly face?

The thought sent a chill through me. Everything happening was just too bizarre. First Xing Yafang in the elevator, gouging out her own eyes for no reason, and now there was that huge floating face—several times larger than normal—that vanished without a trace.

Could Liu Ruijie have died in the same way, trapped in a closed room, her eyes gouged out by a ghost?

“His phone! Luo Ding’s phone!” I blurted out. “I didn’t see it anywhere in here. Try calling him again.”

Zhao Mingkun nodded and dialed Luo Ding’s number.

There was no sound.

Zhao Mingkun and I both frowned.

“Could his phone have been taken, like what happened with Hu Pei?” I wondered.

Zhao Mingkun shook her head and stayed silent, just raising her finger to her lips. I clamped my mouth shut. In the silence, a faint buzzing noise started to surface. Listening closely, it sounded exactly like a phone on vibrate.

She pointed toward a spot in the apartment. “It’s coming from over there,” she said.

With that, Zhao Mingkun walked into the bedroom.

Inside, a big wardrobe stood against the wall, and the vibrating was definitely coming from inside it. Zhao Mingkun and I glanced at each other. “It has to be in there,” she said.

Looking around the apartment, if there was anywhere a full-grown person could hide, it was the wardrobe. I took a couple deep breaths, scared of what I’d find if I opened it and there was no one inside. If Luo Ding really disappeared in this room, nothing could be scarier.

When I opened the wardrobe, I found Luo Ding curled up inside.

The moment I opened the door, he tumbled out, still coiled into a tight ball. He looked like a curled-up pangolin, not moving at all.

Zhao Mingkun acted fast. She pulled on gloves and checked for his pulse and heartbeat.

After a moment, Zhao Mingkun shook her head at me, signaling that Luo Ding was dead.

His phone was still buzzing away inside the wardrobe.

It took both of us a lot of effort to unfold Luo Ding from his tightly curled position. Looking at his face, we saw a twisted expression with his eyes wide open. His hands were locked into claws, tendons pulled tight. Sweat drenched his face, still fresh—you could tell he’d been utterly terrified right before he died.

Zhao Mingkun studied him and finally said, “Guess we got here a step too late.”

I frowned at Zhao Mingkun. “He died of fright, too.”

She nodded.

Another one scared to death. First Hu Pei, then Luo Ding. Who would be next? And what was that face that vanished in an instant? Do things really exist in this world that no logic can explain? Are ghosts real?

But if it’s all just people behind it, how do they pull it off?

There’s no way Zhao Mingkun and I had the same hallucination at the same time. That face was real. Its eyes had been gouged out, too. If that’s Lü Zhiqiu’s ghost, in this group of thirteen, who’s next to die?