"Hey, we're a legit streaming channel here, so no sudden NSFW stuff!" I quickly stopped the veterans who were ready to jump straight into dirty talk. I was just acting out the victim's behavior—not planning to do anything real.
"Streamer, you're playing with fire now!"
"Don't worry, I'd never do anything illegal or immoral. I know the limits."
"Well said, but why do I still feel disappointed?"
The chat was full of troublemakers eager for drama, so I wisely decided to drop the topic.
"Everyone, remember the victim's personality: he might have lost control sometimes, but financially he was too broke to do anything reckless."
A guy running from debt, scared every day, hiding in a cheap motel on the outskirts, barely able to eat — his finances were definitely bad.
Back to square one: what exactly did the victim do that night?
If I were him, stuck in this creepy, weird room, late at night with nothing at all, would I go out for a smoke or something?
"When I checked into room 203, the old lady warned me not to go out no matter what noises I heard. So logically, the victim should've been warned too. But what if he didn't listen and snuck out that midnight?"
Makes sense logically: his death is linked to leaving the room at night.
Checking my watch — not yet midnight. I cracked open the door and set the camera by it, watching live on my phone. The third floor was empty, deathly silent.
"Let's take a walk. If I'm gonna face ghosts, no more hesitation." Camera at the door, I looked at room 206 opposite, remembering that weird victim. I wouldn't lie — I was scared.
"If I could get into 206, maybe I'd find police clues they missed." But that thought stayed in my head — asking the old folks would just alert suspects. I already suspected that old couple.
I took the stairs down to the second floor. Scar-faced old man and the short fat granny were gone. Only a woman in her twenties was at the front desk.
She knelt in the corner, back turned, seemingly praying to a black-and-white photo of a toddler girl.
"Excuse me, do you know where the landlord is? The TV in my room's broken."
"The TV's always broken. Can't fix what's broken."
"Oh, you say that like it means something. Broken things are the ones that need fixing."
She stood and wiped the incense burner by the toddler's photo. "Like people — once broken, they never change."
She kept her back to me, voice low: "Nothing here's safe at night. You better head back."
"You've got my curiosity now. Is that girl your kid? I think you—"
"She's my sister. She disappeared when she was very young."
"Sorry to hear that."
"Doesn't matter. I'm used to it. Just hope I'm not next."
Her voice was bleak.
"Is it just you three running this place? Where's your man?"
"I have a brother. He works out of town."
"Life's tough. If you need help, anything, just say."
I patted my chest confidently but kept my eyes on her. She trembled slightly, like she was scared of something.
"I mean any kind of help. I'm here if you need."
A test. I didn't expect a stranger to trust me, unless she was desperate.
After a fruitless round, I went back to 203 and closed the door, setting the camera aside.
This cheap $35-a-night motel couldn't be expected to have much security. I had to be wary of ghosts and humans messing around.
The chipped wooden door looked old, with a loose lock — the classic style popular in the 80s or 90s.
I gripped the handle and shook it. Honestly, this door probably couldn't stand up to a kid kicking it hard.
I put the key in my pocket, cracked the door open a bit. Rooms 203 and 206 sat mid-hallway, which was dim and flickering. The half-dead bulb by the stairs set a creepy mood without any effort — it killed all desire to leave.
"No clue how this place is still open."
I set the warm thermos the granny gave me by the door, placing a cup on top — not to block the door, but as an early warning.
If someone sneaked in, the cup would fall, alerting me.
Careful, not paranoid — just these last two days were terrifying. I still didn't know if what I faced was human or ghost.
Next to the door was a tiny room — the bathroom. I hadn't checked it earlier because Liu Banxian from Qingcheng Mountain kept spamming chat.
"Hope nothing weird shows up."
I opened the bathroom door.
New ceramic tiles on the floor and walls gleamed. The toilet and sink looked clean. A solar water heater still wrapped in plastic stood above a half-fixed bathtub.
"For $35 a night, this bathroom's too fancy." No charms or symbols, but the cold light reflecting off the white tiles gave an eerie feel.
The rest of the place looked stuck in the 90s, but the bathroom was obviously renovated — very out of place.
"Something's off." Strange things always mean a hidden clue in this case. "Why renovate only the bathroom?"
I thought a moment: the owner was hiding something. Could this bathroom be part of the murder scene?
I took the camera and explained the bathroom layout, then searched for clues.
Half an hour later, I was interrupted by a faint knock.
I crept to the door and listened. The knock came again.
Peeking through the crack, in the dim light, I saw a blurry white figure standing by the door to 206 — the room where someone died three months ago.
"Is that a person or a ghost?"
The figure stood still. Time seemed frozen. I gripped the talisman, raised the camera.
"No fear. I came to face ghosts and expose YinJian Show's real face. Can't chicken out now!"
I loosened the talisman and slowly unlocked the door.
"Come on, show me who you really are. Let me see what a ghost looks like!"
Just as I was about to open the door fully, the damn hallway bulb died, plunging me into darkness. Cold air crept inside my clothes.
Cold sweat soaked my back. In the silent blackness, I sensed movement.
The light flickered back. In that instant, I saw a pale, expressionless face with black hair rushing toward me.
"Holy shit!"
The door swung open. The thermos tipped, the cup crashed, and boiling water spilled on my leg.
Slippery floor, sharp pain — I lost balance and fell back hard. One hand clutched the camera; the other grabbed the blurry white figure instinctively.
Bang!
When I woke up, I saw I was holding half a long white dress.
Looking up, two snow-white, tempting long legs were inches from my nose.