Translator: CinderTL
After hearing the story of the girl in the building across the street, Xiao Lan was terrified. From that day on, she never dared to approach the windowsill again and became increasingly anxious.
Seeing her daughter grow paler and weaker each day, Xiao Lan's mother knew this was no ordinary matter. She asked a well-connected friend to contact a Master known for handling strange and unusual problems.
This Master was said to possess remarkable skills, specializing in resolving bizarre incidents.
Following the Master's instructions, they made arrangements at home. Instead of talismans or holy water, they completely blocked Xiao Lan's bedroom window with dark curtains, vowing never to open them lightly. Then, they placed a potted flower on the windowsill.
As the days passed, Xiao Lan's health gradually improved, and her spirits lifted. Apart from her continued fear of the windowsill, she returned to her former self.
Just when Xiao Lan and her mother thought the matter was slowly fading away, they received a sudden call from the Master.
Over the phone, the Master explained that the previous arrangements were merely a temporary measure. The ghost wasn't what they thought; its true nature was that of a curse.
"Xiao Lan had already promised to let the ghost find her, essentially making a pact. Once such a pact is made, the ghost is bound to come."
Upon hearing this, Xiao Lan was paralyzed with terror, her lips trembling so violently she couldn't utter a word.
Xiao Lan's mother desperately pleaded with the Master, begging him to find a way to stop the ghost from coming for her daughter, no matter the cost.
The Master sighed helplessly. "It's too late. Once the pact is made, the ghost is destined to appear. Nothing can prevent it now."
However, he quickly added, "While the ghost's arrival is inevitable, that doesn't mean Xiao Lan is doomed. If you follow my instructions precisely on that day, there's a good chance she'll remain unharmed. Moreover, since the ghost has already come once to fulfill the invitation, it won't return a second time."
"When will the ghost come?" Xiao Lan's mother pressed, her heart flickering with a fragile hope.
"When Xiao Lan's leg is nearly healed," the Master replied.
Time passed. One morning, the Master called. He didn't ask about Xiao Lan's condition; instead, he instructed her mother to go to the windowsill and look at the potted flower.
The moment Xiao Lan's mother drew back the curtains, she froze. The flower, perfectly healthy the day before, was now completely withered.
Its leaves weren't yellowed with decay; they were ashen gray, like paper offerings burned for the dead.
The Master sighed. "Tonight is the night," he said. "I need to make some preparations. Have Xiao Lan wait for my call. I'll call again at dusk to tell her what to do."
True to his word, the Master's call came just as twilight fell. Xiao Lan answered immediately, clutching the phone like a lifeline.
First, the Master instructed Xiao Lan's mother to leave the room. Once she was gone, he told Xiao Lan, "The Ghost will come in the early hours of the morning. Before midnight, you must open the front door and all the doors in the house."
He later explained that this was to show her sincere invitation to the Ghost, proving she had not broken their original agreement.
Xiao Lan's face turned deathly pale when she heard she had to open the door to welcome a ghost. But she knew that her only chance of survival lay in following the Master's instructions, so she gritted her teeth and agreed.
"Secondly," the Master said, "you must find a safe place to hide. The ghost won't linger long in your house. As long as she can't find you, you'll survive."
"Where should I hide?" Xiao Lan asked urgently.
"Under your bedroom bed," the Master replied without hesitation. "And prepare a set of your usual clothes beforehand. Arrange them on the bed in a human-like shape to deceive the ghost."
Terror stretched time thin. Finally, the moment arrived. With just minutes to spare before midnight, Xiao Lan followed the Master's instructions, arranged the clothes on the bed, and quietly cracked open her bedroom door.
Then she darted to the bed and squeezed into the narrow space beneath it.
The gap under the bed was cramped; even someone as slender as Xiao Lan barely fit. Strangely, the confined space gave her a peculiar sense of security.
Peeking through the crack, Xiao Lan could just make out the bedroom door. Her right hand, clutching her phone, was slick with cold sweat, and she barely dared to breathe.
She was waiting—waiting for the ghost to come knocking.
Gradually, she heard a strange sound approaching from the direction of the door.
At first, it was faint and indistinct, coming from a distance. But as it drew closer, her pupils dilated, and her grip on the phone tightened until it nearly slipped from her hand.
It was an eerie scraping sound, as if someone were dragging their feet across the floor without lifting them.
Midnight. At the end of the silent corridor, a woman moved with unnatural fluidity, her feet scraping along the floor as she glided toward her.
Just imagining this scene sent chills down Xiao Lan's spine.
Finally, the eerie scraping sound reached her apartment door.
At that moment, an ominous premonition washed over Xiao Lan. She frowned instinctively, as if she had overlooked something crucial.
Just then, Xiao Lan's phone received a message. Having set it to silent beforehand, it didn't make a sound.
Staring at the screen, Xiao Lan's eyes froze. It was from her mother. Several messages had arrived in quick succession.
The moment she deciphered them, Xiao Lan's mind went blank with a deafening buzz.
"Xiao Lan, are you alright? Master has been calling you non-stop. Why haven't you answered?"
"Master says you must lock every door in the house tightly. No matter who knocks, don't open it and don't make a sound."
"Most importantly, find a good hiding place—but make sure it's high up! That ghost has no legs; she can only crawl along the floor. As long as she can't see you..."
Xiao Lan didn't finish reading. It was unnecessary. The scraping sound had stopped.
Trembling, she turned her head. A human-like figure lay sprawled across the bedroom doorway, its bloody, mangled face pressed against the floor, staring directly under Xiao Lan's bed.
"Found... you," the female corpse's lips split into a ghastly grin. The voice emanating from her shattered mouth was that of the Master.
After finishing her story, the Red-Clad Woman stepped back to the side, her head bowed. In the dim light, no one could make out her face.
"That was quite a story," another man spoke up. He had been standing in the shadows, silent and barely noticeable until now.
When he stepped into the light, they saw a man in his early forties with disheveled hair and a mud-stained tracksuit that looked like it hadn't been washed in ages.
(End of the Chapter)
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