Everything was eerily familiar.
The metallic tang of sweet, rancid decay accompanied the icy, pale ghostly figure that stretched out its arms and trapped Yang Siguang in its embrace.
Yang Siguang wanted to scream.
But the bone-chilling cold overtook his body even before fear could fully set in. He couldn’t make a sound, nor could he struggle.
“Ding Xiaolong” pulled out the IV needle from his arm and then leisurely tore apart the restraints on the bedside.
He seemingly embraced Yang Siguang with affection, step by step walking toward the window in the hospital room. Although Ding Xiaolong was still a teenager, his strength at this moment was astonishing. When he carried Yang Siguang directly onto the windowsill, his movements were as light as if he were holding a cat rather than an adult.
“Let’s go together.”
Yang Siguang heard “Ding Xiaolong” murmur to him in an utterly dazed tone.
Then, “Ding Xiaolong” pushed him toward the window.
“No—no—”
As his feet suddenly lost support, Yang Siguang finally managed to muster a trace of strength. He let out a faint scream and, just as his body was about to fall, he desperately reached out and grabbed the edge of the window.
Suspended precariously outside the hospital building, his breathing was rapid and labored.
This scene should have drawn a crowd of onlookers and cries of alarm.
Yet at that moment, the entire inpatient building was deathly silent.
Even the wind seemed to have frozen in place. Yang Siguang felt as though he had been forcibly plunged into a block of amber, where time itself had come to a standstill. The entire world seemed to consist only of him and “Ding Xiaolong,” who stood by the window, gazing down at him intently.
Li Chen’s face was like a thin veil of mist overlaying Ding Xiaolong’s original features.
Noticing Yang Siguang’s sudden surge of survival instinct, the figure tilted its head slightly.
“Click… click…”
…
Accompanied by the subtle sound of bones shifting out of place, “Ding Xiaolong” bent down in an unnatural posture. His neck appeared unnaturally long, and his bluish-gray face leaned directly into Yang Siguang’s.
“Don’t be afraid.”
The ghost’s voice seemed to come from a distant place. Yet, despite its ethereal nature, it sounded unnervingly clear in his ears.
The voice was like a tiny insect crawling into his ear canal, burrowing into his skull, and coiling around his soft, warm brain matter. It spiraled and squirmed, devouring the last remnants of Yang Siguang’s sanity.
“Just come with me, and everything will be fine…”
The ghost’s tone, previously sinister, suddenly became gentle.
“Siguang, this is what you’ve always wanted to do, isn’t it? Why are you resisting now, at the very last moment?”
“Ding Xiaolong” smiled. His cold fingertips slid slowly down Yang Siguang’s pale fingers, stopping at his wrist.
The skin there was delicate and fair, but upon closer inspection, several crisscrossing pale scars were faintly visible on Yang Siguang’s wrists.
The scars extended from his wrists to his elbows. As the ghost touched them, these long-healed scars began to split open, oozing crimson blood and returning to the state they were in when they first appeared on Yang Siguang’s body.
Along with the reopening of these wounds came a suffocating, swamp-like weight of despair—cold, heavy, and overwhelming.
He had thought he had overcome those feelings long ago. But now, he realized they had never truly left. They had merely hidden deep within his heart, lingering like shadows that refused to dissipate.
Tears blurred Yang Siguang’s vision, and it took him several seconds to realize that he had begun crying without even noticing.
“This world is so vast, but every time you wake up and look out the window, you can feel it—you have no place in this world. There’s nowhere that belongs to you… and no one who truly wants you in their life.”
“Your father abandoned you when you were so young. When he left, he didn’t think of you at all… You were utterly worthless to him. And your mother? Yes, she raised you, but you’ve always known, haven’t you? Deep down, she never truly wanted you. She only took you in out of societal obligation, begrudgingly dragging you along. In her new family, you’re nothing but an eyesore.”
“You know this. You’ve always known this. In that household, you’re just a burden, an annoyance, a piece of trash too inconvenient to throw out on the way downstairs.”
“So, that’s why your mother let that man do those things to you, isn’t it?”
“He kept hitting you, didn’t he?”
…
Hearing this, perhaps because he was utterly exhausted, or perhaps because he could no longer control his emotions, Yang Siguang’s body began to tremble. Gradually, his fingers, which were gripping the window frame, started to slip.
“No, no, no, no! Shut up! Shut up—”
Yang Siguang rasped in a hoarse voice.
But of course, “Ding Xiaolong” wouldn’t shut up. It continued speaking in a nauseatingly pitying tone.
“…That woman always told you, ‘That’s just how men are. At least he’s providing for the family, especially taking care of a burden like you.’”
“When you were little and had to go to the hospital several times for broken bones, that woman always said you’d fallen down the stairs because you were too playful.”
“Sure, once you grew up, that man couldn’t beat you anymore. But then you found out he was still beating your mom. You couldn’t do anything about it, so you moved back home… You just wanted to protect the only family you had left. But compared to your protection? What that woman really wanted was still that man—the one who hit her and humiliated her. She’s his wife, Ding Xiaolong’s mother… They’re the real family.”
“And you? You’re just an outsider.”
“You can’t get along with others. You’ve tried so hard to pretend, but you’ve never learned how to communicate with people like a normal person. In the end, everyone thinks you’re weird… That’s right, you’re just a freak.”
“You don’t fit in with the world. You have no friends, no family. You don’t even know why you exist in this world. You want to escape, to become stronger, to shed this weak personality. But you can’t… You’re like a cruel child, always longing for someone to love you…”
“But you know, no one will love you.”
“No one will need you.”
“If you really died, people would just feel a bit annoyed, like dealing with a nuisance. They’d bury you simply, and within days, months, or less than a year, everyone would forget you.”
“You’ll leave no trace in this world.”
“Ding Xiaolong’s” arms, like snakes, coiled around Yang Siguang’s neck, then gently cradled his face.
“Don’t cry, dear. Don’t cry. I feel so sorry for you. I’ve always been watching you—watching you get bullied, watching you stumble through this world, bruised and battered. My heart aches for you.”
“That’s why I want to take you away.”
As it spoke, the ghost extended its long, thin tongue. Slowly, it licked away Yang Siguang’s tears.
“I like you… I like you so much it’s driving me crazy…”
The ghost whispered softly in his ear.
“Come with me, Siguang.”
“To a world where it’s just the two of us.”
“I’ll love you there; love you properly.”
“I’ll love you forever.”
…
At some point, the ghost’s voice had transformed into the tender murmurs of Li Chen from his memories. It was no longer terrifyingly eerie but filled with sincere longing and hope.
Yang Siguang’s arms had gone numb from pain. The ghost’s whispers pounded against his skull, and he could feel something inside him loosening.
Yes.
There really wasn’t anything worth holding on to.
He thought.
After all, in this world, he was…
[“Si…￥#@…Siguang… my…”]
Just as Yang Siguang was about to let go, he suddenly heard a vague, chilling whisper.
The next moment, he saw a pale arm suddenly extend from behind “Ding Xiaolong.”
Its elbow was broken, its fingertips worn down.
The hard, bony fingers dug directly into Yang Siguang’s flesh, causing a sharp, piercing pain.
*
“Siguang!”
The next second, “Ding Xiaolong” was forcefully flung away from the window.
It was a proper “flung away”—Yang Siguang even heard the dull thud when Ding Xiaolong hit the ground. Immediately after, Li Bo’s pale face appeared at the edge of the windowsill. When the man saw Yang Siguang teetering on the brink of the window, his pupils contracted sharply. Without hesitation, he grabbed Yang Siguang and yanked him back inside with all his strength.
Everything happened so quickly.
So quickly that Yang Siguang didn’t even have time to react. His wrists still bore the ghost’s icy chill, and his mind was utterly blank.
In a dizzying moment, he was back inside. Before he could catch his breath, he found himself pulled into Li Bo’s embrace.
“Siguang… Siguang…”
Li Bo rested his head on Yang Siguang’s shoulder, his breathing rapid. He kept repeating his name. Despite the fact that Yang Siguang had been the one teetering on the edge of life and death, Li Bo seemed even more shaken, as though he were the one whose spirit was on the verge of collapse.
…
With Li Bo’s arrival, the invisible constraint that had enveloped the hospital bed seemed to lift.
Time began to flow again.
Following close behind Li Bo were several medical staff who burst into the room. They arrived just in time to see Li Bo kick Ding Xiaolong away.
At this moment, the teenager lay in a corner, groaning incoherently, his mind muddled.
And the next second, when Li Bo pulled Yang Siguang up from the windowsill, the staff were so terrified they nearly lost their minds. No one had expected Ding Xiaolong to so easily break free from his restraints—let alone that he appeared to have been trying to push his brother out of the window.
This had to count as a major incident, right?
The faces of all the medical staff were drained of color.
“What… what happened here?”
“Is anyone hurt? What’s going on—”
“Sir, please let go so we can check the situation?”
“Ding Xiaolong? Ding Xiaolong, how are you feeling?”
…In an instant, the hospital room plunged into chaos and noise.
Yang Siguang vaguely realized that his mother later ran into the room too. When she saw Ding Xiaolong, who had been kicked away, her face turned ashen. Several medical staff tried to block her, but they barely managed to stop her from slapping Yang Siguang and Li Bo.
The woman’s curses and accusations were sharp and piercing, but Yang Siguang found that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t understand her words.
Li Bo shielded him in his arms and walked straight out of the hospital room.
*
“…Based on the patient’s current indicators, the situation doesn’t appear to be too severe. There are some soft tissue bruises on his arm, possibly some minor muscle strain. But considering what you mentioned earlier, Mr. Li, that the patient nearly fell from a building, this is quite understandable…”
“However, I believe the patient must have been frightened during the incident. If conditions permit, I recommend staying by his side and letting him rest in a quiet and stable environment for a few days.”
*
The man in the white coat bent slightly, using his fingers to hold open Yang Siguang’s eyelids. A flashlight flickered in front of the young man’s eyes. After observing for a moment, the doctor put away the flashlight, straightened up, and turned to look at the nervous man on the side of the room, speaking in a deep voice to give his assessment.
Upon hearing that Yang Siguang wasn’t seriously injured, Li Bo visibly relaxed.
He even got up eagerly, carefully inquiring about care details while courteously escorting the doctor out of the room.
Outside the room was exceptionally quiet, its decor understated yet luxurious.
This was the hospital’s high-end private ward area, not open to the public. Without permission from the guards downstairs, random individuals couldn’t possibly cause trouble here.
Thinking back to the behavior of Yang Siguang’s mother during the earlier incident, Li Bo couldn’t help but frown.
It seemed the woman didn’t even notice that compared to Ding Xiaolong, who was kicked but could still wail and shout, Yang Siguang had almost died.
If he had been just a little slower…maybe only by a few seconds…
Yang Siguang might already be dead now.
The thought sent another wave of fear coursing through Li Bo.
At first, even he hadn’t noticed anything unusual.
The hospital room door had been shut, and only muffled, indistinct conversation could be heard inside, the tone calm and ordinary.
Though it wasn’t exactly ethical, Li Bo had subconsciously strained to listen. All he caught were fragments like “mother” and “family.”
It genuinely sounded like Yang Siguang and his younger brother were having a safe, friendly conversation in the room.
However, as he stood there for just a while longer, Li Bo began to feel the paper talisman on his chest grow heavier and hotter.
“And then, I suddenly heard…Li Chen’s voice.”
When mentioning that name, Li Bo instinctively pressed his lips together.
“He seemed to call out ‘Sisi.’ That’s when I realized something was wrong. But when I tried to open the hospital room door, it felt like something was pressing against it from the other side. I called several people to help break it open, and after we finally got in, well…that’s about what happened.”
Li Bo calmly recounted the situation to Yang Siguang.
However, Yang Siguang didn’t respond at all.
Li Bo’s heart sank.
Since bringing Yang Siguang to this private ward, the latter had remained silent and expressionless.
No matter what Li Bo said, Yang Siguang just stayed quiet.
But his blankness didn’t seem to stem solely from shock or sluggishness due to fright.
On the way to the private ward, Li Bo had clearly felt that Yang Siguang was staring at him with an unusually strange and scrutinizing gaze.
For a man who had never experienced heart palpitations even when negotiating billion-dollar deals, that gaze left him feeling an unprecedented sense of unease.
He keenly sensed that something very bad had happened.
Sure enough, in the next moment, Yang Siguang finally spoke.
The young man, expressionless, interrupted him.
“Did you know that Li Chen has been secretly bribing my brother to sneak into my house late at night…to assault me?”
The world instantly fell silent.
All sound froze in Li Bo’s throat, transforming into a heavy, thorn-laden icicle that choked him, making it impossible to breathe.
He stared at the young man before him, his mind going completely blank.
Before he could react, Yang Siguang continued questioning.
“Is he still stalking me?”
Yang Siguang’s gaze swept over Li Bo’s ashen face. His pale lips moved slightly, spitting out one horrifying word after another.
“Following?”
“Monitoring?”
“Or has he installed surveillance cameras in my house?”
…
Li Bo remained silent.
But it was clear his expression had already betrayed everything.
The questioned man’s face gradually drained of all color.
Yet the questioner himself appeared just as unsteady.
“I’ve always wondered…”
Yang Siguang murmured hoarsely, his voice rough as if each word were soaked in blood.
“Why were you so sure Li Chen wouldn’t do anything to me? Because in your eyes…he ‘likes’ me, right? You knew everything. Otherwise, there’s no way you would’ve shelled out five million all at once to buy my life back from Aunt Qiao.”
At this, Yang Siguang pulled the corners of his mouth into a smile that looked more like a grimace than an expression of joy.
“You know? People from families like mine, even if we worked our whole lives, couldn’t possibly save up five million. Li Bo, what are you doing? Are you trying to atone for Li Chen’s sins?”
At this moment, Li Bo finally squeezed out a weak response, though even he was startled by the frailty and hollowness in his voice.
“It’s not like that… I just thought… Li Chen once told me that he was always trying hard to control himself, that he did those things just so he wouldn’t hurt you…”
When Li Bo realized what a terrible defense he had just made, it was already too late.
“It’s really not like that—”
The next second, he saw Yang Siguang stand up. The young man raised his hand and punched him square in the face.
A sharp, searing pain exploded in the middle of Li Bo’s face. Crimson blood spurted from his nose under the heavy blow.
Staggering backward in pain, Li Bo took two steps. Blood dripped continuously through his fingers.
Yang Siguang stood still. The torment of recent days had left him looking like little more than a skeleton. His ragged breathing made him appear so frail, so pitiful.
He stood there, staring fixedly at the blood on Li Bo’s face. His fists clenched, then loosened.
Then clenched again.
“Siguang…”
Even though he had taken a punch, seeing Yang Siguang in his current state made Li Bo’s chest ache with indescribable pain.
I’m not just trying to make up for Li Chen’s mistakes.
I just feel so sorry for you.
I want you… I want you to live.
So many words swelled in his chest, but just as Li Bo was about to speak, Yang Siguang interrupted him coldly.
“Get out—”
The veins on the young man’s forehead throbbed violently.
“Let me explain…”
“Get out of here—”
*
Li Bo hesitated, wanting to speak but holding back. After a long pause, he finally left under Yang Siguang’s bloodshot glare, turning back with every step.
Almost as soon as he left, all the strength drained from Yang Siguang’s body, and he collapsed to the ground.
Even though he was gasping for air, he still felt like he was drowning in the depths of the ocean, unable to breathe.
Yang Siguang felt like he was losing his mind.
The malicious spirit that clung to him didn’t just use words to tempt him into ending his own life.
In the brief moment of physical contact, Yang Siguang had seen too many fragmented images.
He could try to convince himself that they were illusions created by the spirit to confuse him, but deep down, he knew they were real. And Li Bo’s guilty and panicked expression when confronted only confirmed it further.
Unbeknownst to him, he had been humiliated and tormented in secret for a very long time.
The most laughable and tragic part was that Li Bo had always known.
And before all this, Yang Siguang had truly trusted that man. He had even…
…
In a daze, Yang Siguang once again recalled the moment in Aunt Qiao’s bathroom when the power outage plunged everything into darkness—the man’s hands pressing down on him and the sound of his labored breathing.
“Hah…”
A hoarse sob escaped from Yang Siguang’s throat.
I want to die.
I want to die, I want to die, I want to die, I want to die…
I just want to die…
So disgusting.
…
As Yang Siguang teetered on the brink of collapse, his phone suddenly emitted a series of notification sounds.
At that moment, he had no interest in checking his phone. However, the notifications persisted.
After the alert tones came a WeChat call.
When the call went unanswered, the phone began to ring incessantly.
After what felt like an eternity, the notifications resumed, buzzing incessantly until Yang Siguang, overwhelmed by the noise, finally picked up his phone. He intended to turn it off, but the moment he grabbed it, a message popped up on the screen.
“Yang Siguang, I’m doomed. I think I accidentally captured a ghost in a photo.”
“Seriously, I’m screwed. Right before Li Chen died, I happened to take a picture of him.”
“Out of respect for the dead, I didn’t think much of it at first. But just now, while sorting through my photos, I realized something was wrong. Look at these pictures—”
[Image.jpg]
[Image.jpg]
[Image.jpg]
[Image.jpg]
“I showed them to other people, and they all said they were fake, accusing me of using AI to create them as a joke. But I didn’t! You were there when I took them, weren’t you? You saw me!”
“I’m freaking out. I’ve been feeling unlucky lately, and maybe I really did provoke a ghost.”
“Please, Siguang, reply to me. I feel like I’m going to die. I’m terrified.”
“Siguang, reply to me if you see this.”
“Just say something, I’m begging you.”
…
Every single message was from Xu Lu.
As Yang Siguang read the content, his expression froze.
Indeed, he remembered that Xu Lu had taken photos of Li Chen shortly before his accident.
But ghostly?
Almost against his will, Yang Siguang opened the photos Xu Lu had sent. The moment Li Chen’s figure appeared on the screen, Yang Siguang felt an even greater weight pressing on his chest.
Even knowing all the horrible things that man had done…
In the photos, Li Chen still looked so striking, so radiant.
Glowing, handsome, and aloof.
Even in a candid shot amidst a crowd, Li Chen stood out like a king without a crown, effortlessly drawing everyone’s attention.
At first, Yang Siguang couldn’t even spot anything unusual in the photos. It wasn’t until he averted his gaze from the central figure of Li Chen, as if fleeing, that he noticed someone standing in the corner of the image.
That person’s body was mostly obscured by the crowd, but he was staring intently at the camera.
And he had a face identical to Li Chen’s.
