A Haunting Paradox

“Phew…”

Running out from the iron door, Bai Wanwan and Liu Hanzhi collapsed onto the ground, gasping for breath. As they surveyed the familiar, brightly lit corridor, they realized they had returned to the stairwell of Baishi Hospital.

In almost the blink of an eye, the wide-open iron gate, the dim corridor beyond it, and the several ghostly nurses who had stood menacingly within, all vanished without a trace.

Bai Wanwan felt a sudden rush of cold sweat trickle down her back.

Liu Hanzhi, however, immediately cupped Bai Wanwan’s face, meticulously checking her over for any lingering effects.

“The death omen is gone.”

Liu Hanzhi let out a long, shuddering breath, her entire ghostly form slumping to the ground in relief. Her concern for Bai Wanwan’s life far outweighed any worry for herself.

“That was close, all thanks to the live stream’s… huh?”

Bai Wanwan stared at the phone in her hand, its screen shattered. No live streaming application was running; only a few debt collection messages had just come through, as if it had only just regained a signal.

She opened the live streaming app, only to find it was business as usual: either pretty streamers or bustling gaming tournaments.

Bai Wanwan’s last stream, it plainly stated, had been yesterday morning.

This implied Bai Wanwan had never actually streamed. So what about the sales figures in the live stream, or the bullet comments that had told her how to escape?

A chilling dread crept over Bai Wanwan as she pondered this unsettling paradox.

What astonished her even more was this: upon opening the backend of the live shopping link, she discovered the orders for ghost money and paper crafts were still there. The familiar sight of sums reaching tens of thousands of yuan made Bai Wanwan’s hands tremble uncontrollably.

‘Had she truly streamed?’

‘If not, then what were these paper craft orders?’

‘If she had, then those who had been watching her stream… were they human or ghost?’

Ding-a-ling.

Just as Bai Wanwan stood lost in her unsettling thoughts, her phone suddenly rang.

The phone’s insistent ringing echoed piercingly through the empty hospital stairwell.

Bai Wanwan glanced at the caller ID; it was Deng Shuqi.

“Hello, Master Bai? Are you looking for my brother’s soul? You mentioned you’d start streaming at eleven, and I’ve been waiting, but it’s already twelve o’clock. Have you run into some trouble?”

“Do you need my help?”

Deng Shuqi’s gentle voice emanated from the receiver. Hearing that familiar sound, Bai Wanwan’s taut nerves finally relaxed a little.

“Oh, it’s nothing, just a slight delay.”

Bai Wanwan pursed her lips. She chose not to tell Deng Shuqi about the eerie realm, but she still offered a few words of caution.

“That hospital is a bit strange. In the future, try to avoid the stairwells if possible. When taking the elevator, remember there are only two elevators in front of you; a third one behind you doesn’t exist.”

“If a third elevator appears behind you, under no circumstances should you get on it, understand?”

Bai Wanwan’s words left Deng Shuqi a little bewildered, but she silently committed them to memory. After all, she trusted Bai Wanwan implicitly; at this point, she would readily do whatever Bai Wanwan advised.

“Yes, I understand. When will you start streaming? I can help boost your live stream’s popularity.”

“A little later.”

Bai Wanwan knew Deng Shuqi was eager for her to find her brother’s soul, which was precisely why she had called.

She would certainly look for the soul, but before that, she had something far more important to attend to. The fine wine and incense she had promised to the deities she previously invoked hadn’t even been prepared yet.

This matter was clearly more crucial, lest she displease them.