Translator: Shewee
Chapter 11: Room 1303 (End)
Lin Banxia exclaimed in horror, “Officer—uh, brother, why do I have to go to the police station?”
The officer held up a pair of handcuffs. “Why did you say he was crawling on the ceiling?”
Lin Banxia replied, “Isn’t that how it’s always shown in horror movies?”
The officer asked, “Which horror movie?”
Lin Banxia rattled off a list of horror movie titles, leaving the officer momentarily stunned. After a long pause, he finally said, “You’ve really watched a lot, huh?”
Lin Banxia responded, “I dabble here and there.”
In college, his roommates loved watching horror movies. Whenever something scary appeared, they’d scream and cover their eyes, despite being tall, burly men over six feet tall. Some would shield their faces, while others shrieked, and the bravest even hid behind him, leaving Lin Banxia speechless.
Listening to Lin Banxia’s innocent tone, the officer’s expression softened. He continued asking questions about where Lin Banxia was last night and his relationship with Wang Jinqiao. Seeing Lin Banxia answer calmly, the officer eventually waved him off, indicating he could leave. However, he reminded Lin Banxia to report any new clues to the police. Lin Banxia agreed and slipped away as fast as he could.
One thing was clear—the officer’s serious look when he took out the handcuffs was no joke. Lin Banxia quickly left and headed home.
Dawn was just breaking, with the faintest signs of activity starting on the streets.
Lin Banxia got off at the bus stop and bought some breakfast from a stall nearby. He munched on his food as he walked home. Early spring’s chill made his thin clothing feel inadequate, but the freshly fried spring roll in his hand was warm. It was packed with sticky rice, minced pork, and bits of ham, with a crispy exterior—a perfect combination.
Lin Banxia wasn’t picky about food, so he was quite content. As he walked, he glanced at the time—it was barely past five. Ji Leshui was probably still asleep.
In early spring, the dawn comes a bit late. As he looked around, the whole complex was dark, with only a few dim streetlights illuminating the area. In such an environment, any lit window would naturally attract attention.
Munching on his spring roll, Lin Banxia noticed a single lit window in a nearby building.
Someone else lives here? Lin Banxia wondered. His work schedule was unusual, so he rarely encountered anyone in the complex, nor did he often see lights on in other units. Curiously, his gaze was drawn to that illuminated window.
The window wasn’t too high up, so he could clearly see a woman standing by it, backlit by the light. She seemed to be looking outside.
What was she looking at? The thought had just crossed Lin Banxia’s mind when he saw another figure appear. This new figure was much taller than the woman and seemed to be holding something shaped like an axe. The person appeared suddenly behind her.
The woman, unaware, continued to stand silently at the window. Meanwhile, the person behind her slowly raised their arm and the axe they held—
Lin Banxia’s eyes widened, and before he could react, he saw the person swing down. The woman’s head was instantly separated from her body, and dark blood splattered against the window.
Lin Banxia’s first instinct was to call the police. He took out his phone, ready to dial 110, but before he could press the call button, the light in the window went out. In the faint morning light, a bloodstained hand pushed open the window. Seeing this, Lin Banxia instinctively took a step back.
His reaction was right because, in the next moment, the person in the room threw a round object out of the window. It rolled down the path and stopped right in front of Lin Banxia.
Lin Banxia looked down and recognized it as a woman’s severed head, neatly chopped at the neck. Despite this, she wasn’t dead. Her bloody eyes fixed on Lin Banxia, and her mouth opened in a desperate cry for help.
Lin Banxia froze, unsure of what to do. Deciding against calling 110, he opted for 120, wondering if the woman could still be saved.
The woman started screaming, her shrill cries echoing like the wails of a demon.
Lin Banxia paused for a few seconds, then said, “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’ll call 120 right away! If you know who did this or have any last words, just tell me!” He quickly dialed 120 and explained the situation.
The 120 operator, clearly not as calm as Lin Banxia, cursed him for being crazy before hanging up.
Lin Banxia thought, “…Well, sorry, ma’am, but I guess you can’t be saved after all.”
The woman continued screaming, but this time her eyes shifted away from Lin Banxia, focusing on something behind him. Lin Banxia sensed it, but before he could turn, he felt a huge shadow looming over him. Looking down, he saw a dark silhouette on the ground—a tall figure stood behind him, raising a sharp axe, ready to strike.
Lin Banxia rolled to the side, tumbling to the ground. When he looked back, he found that both the figure and the severed head had vanished, leaving only an empty path. He looked up at the window and saw only a closed, dark window.
Silently, Lin Banxia got up, brushed the dirt from his knees, and headed home.
When he arrived, he assumed Song Qingluo would still be asleep, but not seeing him around, he went next door and knocked. After a moment, Ji Leshui opened the door, his hair messy from sleep.
“Good sleep?” Lin Banxia greeted him.
“Yeah, not bad,” Ji Leshui replied with a yawn.
“Want to come over for breakfast?” Lin Banxia offered.
“No, no,” Ji Leshui immediately perked up at the mention of going over. “You’ve been working all day; you should get some rest.”
Lin Banxia nodded, casually asking, “I seem to recall that one day you were really scared in the complex. Did something happen?”
Ji Leshui shuddered at the memory and replied, “Why are you asking about that?”
Lin Banxia said, “Just curious, thought I’d ask.”
Scratching his head, Ji Leshui recounted his experience from that day. When he mentioned someone jumping out of a window, Lin Banxia asked if he remembered which window it was.
Ji Leshui replied, “I remember. It was the building next to ours. I’m not sure about the exact floor, but it wasn’t high up. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have seen it so clearly.”
Lin Banxia acknowledged this and suggested Ji Leshui get ready for work.
Ji Leshui didn’t think much of it and, after a brief goodbye, went back inside.
Returning to his apartment, Lin Banxia took a hot shower and finally lay down to sleep. Normally, if there were no work duties, he’d sleep a bit at night, but last night’s incident, along with concerns over Liu Xi’s condition, had kept him awake. Now, lying in bed, he quickly drifted off to sleep.
After what felt like an unknown amount of time, Lin Banxia faintly heard the sound of the front door opening. He opened his eyes and glanced at his phone—it was already noon. Slowly, he got out of bed and went to the living room, where he saw Song Qingluo. Behind him was a strange person, wearing a hat, sunglasses, and a large mask, bundled up so tightly that even his exposed fingers were gloved, leaving no skin visible.
Lin Banxia’s movement towards the living room paused. Song Qingluo noticed him and called out, “Want to join us for lunch?” He raised a bag of groceries filled with fresh ingredients.
Lin Banxia cautiously asked, “Where did you go?”
Song Qingluo replied, “Had some errands to run.”
“Alone?” Lin Banxia asked, his gaze lingering.
Song Qingluo looked at him, confused.
Lin Banxia clarified, “It… looks like there’s someone following you.” He remembered the woman he’d seen at the funeral home, who had something invisible trailing behind her—a presence that clearly wasn’t human but of uncertain origin.
Song Qingluo said, “Oh, I know. He’s my friend.”
Lin Banxia let out a sigh of relief, rubbing his eyes and joking that work had made him start seeing things.
Song Qingluo added, “But he can’t be in the sunlight, so could you close the curtains?”
Lin Banxia’s nerves, which had just relaxed, tightened again. He stared at Song Qingluo, “Can’t be in the sunlight? Does he eat garlic?”
Song Qingluo: “…”
The person behind him couldn’t hold back and burst into laughter.
With a hint of exasperation, Song Qingluo pulled the curtains closed, saying, “What are you thinking? Vampires don’t exist.”
Song Qingluo spread his hands. “You’ll have to ask them about that. Alright, Li Su, you can go out first. I’ll check the goods and let you know.”
So, this person’s name was Li Su. It was an ordinary name, but upon hearing this, Li Su methodically put his equipment back on, gave Lin Banxia a meaningful look, then turned and left the room. Lin Banxia felt uneasy and whispered, “Should I leave too?”
Song Qingluo waved his hand, indicating for him to stay seated.
Not daring to sit, Lin Banxia stood to the side, unsure of what to do. He felt as if he were witnessing an illegal transaction and thought, If I keep watching, I might be silenced.
Song Qingluo didn’t pay him any attention. Lowering his long lashes, he eyed the small box in front of him, which was about the size of a forearm. The box was secured with a tiny lock. He carefully inspected it, verifying there was no damage, and then pulled out a key, inserting it into the lock.
Lin Banxia was curious about the box’s contents but felt so nervous, given Song Qingluo’s demeanor, that he didn’t dare move.
Song Qingluo gave the lock a slight twist, removing it. Instead of opening the box immediately, he calmly took out a pair of black gloves from his pocket, putting them on with care. Only then did he lift the lid. A peculiar scent escaped from the box as soon as it was opened.
It was a scent Lin Banxia had never encountered, like plants growing in the depths of snowy landscapes, refreshing at first, yet quickly morphing into a thick sweetness tinged with a faint hint of something almost metallic. Memories he had tried to bury began resurfacing in his mind—visions of that detestable cupboard and the hand pounding relentlessly on its door. A small child, barely as tall as his knee, crouched silently, too terrified to cry, wishing only to disappear from this world. The sound of the pounding echoed in his ears, a nightmare he could never escape.
Snapping back to reality, Lin Banxia found himself staring at Song Qingluo, who was seated across from him, fingers intertwined, his dark eyes gazing at him intently.
“Was it a happy memory?” Song Qingluo asked softly.
“No,” Lin Banxia replied, his voice low. He forced a smile, but his lips refused to cooperate. Seeing this, Song Qingluo quietly said, “If you don’t want to smile, don’t force it.”
Lin Banxia pressed his lips together.
“My apologies,” Song Qingluo said. “I thought it might bring back pleasant memories for you.” He re-secured the lock on the box, this time changing it from white to black, matching the box’s color. Slowly, he took off his gloves, opened the window to let in some fresh air, then drew the curtains shut before calling Li Su back into the room.
“All done,” Song Qingluo announced.
“You… opened it right in front of him?” Li Su looked at Song Qingluo in surprise.
Song Qingluo nodded. “Yes.”
“How long?” Li Su asked.
Song Qingluo reached into his inner coat pocket and pulled out an old pocket watch. “Seventeen seconds.”
“Seriously?” Li Su looked at Lin Banxia in disbelief, his pale pink eyes wide. “Where’d you find this gem? He’s really that good? Does he… know about you?”
“Not yet,” Song Qingluo replied.
“Well, don’t forget to give the higher-ups a heads-up,” Li Su said. “I’ll head out now.”
“Go ahead,” Song Qingluo nodded.
Once Li Su left, silence filled the room.
Feeling slightly awkward, Lin Banxia was about to turn on the TV for some background noise when Song Qingluo gently held his hand back. His fingertips were soft and cool, as delicate as silk.
Song Qingluo asked, “Aren’t you curious?”
Lin Banxia replied cautiously, “Curiosity killed the cat?”
Song Qingluo smiled. “The pay is quite high.”
Lin Banxia perked up immediately. “How high?”
“You could pay off your mortgage quickly,” Song Qingluo replied.
Lin Banxia hesitated. “Then why are you living next door to me?”
Song Qingluo: “…”
“And in a rented apartment…”
Song Qingluo sighed inwardly. Lin Banxia, you truly have a way with words. He exhaled, thinking the full story would be too long to explain.
After a brief silence, Lin Banxia asked tentatively, “Could you explain what ‘natural aging’ means?”
He recalled Li Su mentioning this term earlier. From his understanding, it referred to high-precision parts, where, after manufacturing, the shape might gradually change over time due to stress. This transformation was inconsequential in regular machinery but could lead to issues in high-precision equipment. Thus, these parts were typically left in a natural environment for a period to release stress—this process was known as natural aging.
But clearly, Song Qingluo wasn’t involved in machining, so what did Li Su mean by “natural aging”?
Song Qingluo replied, “It’s exactly what it sounds like. In this world, many anomalous items exist, some benign, others dangerous. Most pose a threat, so we need to collect and secure them before they cause harm. This containment process can cause changes, and to avoid excessive backlash, we put them through a period of natural aging before sealing them.” His voice was soft, almost casual. “Your apartment is one such item undergoing natural aging.”
Lin Banxia was stunned. “Is there something… unusual about this place? Like, has someone died here?”
“No, this is a brand-new development, as indicated in your purchase contract,” Song Qingluo said.
That made sense, but then why…?
“It’s your door number,” Song Qingluo explained. “Haven’t you noticed there’s something different about it?”
Prompted by Song Qingluo, Lin Banxia remembered a time when he’d rushed back home and noticed an odd, almost skin-like texture on the doorplate. He hadn’t thought much of it then, but recalling it now sent chills down his spine.
“Creepy,” Lin Banxia muttered.
You don’t look the least bit convinced, Song Qingluo thought.
“But wait, if you’re conducting natural aging, why sell the apartment?” Lin Banxia complained. “I worked so hard to buy this place, and now you’ve tagged it with a cursed doorplate.”
Song Qingluo sighed. “That was an oversight.” They had specifically chosen this development due to its isolated location, with few people around to reduce the risk of accidents. However, the person coordinating the purchase with the owner had encountered an accident and was now missing. While the situation remained unresolved, Lin Banxia—unwittingly drawn by the lower price—had bought the apartment before they even realized it.
Once they learned of the mishap, they immediately called Song Qingluo to handle the issue. His job was demanding, so he simply moved into the apartment next door. Initially, he’d wondered how to approach Lin Banxia, only for the latter to come knocking himself.
“If there’s no ghost, then what did Ji Leshui see?” Lin Banxia asked, still brimming with questions.
“That depends on what he feared during that period,” Song Qingluo explained. “You should be glad it’s just the two of you here.”
“Why?” Lin Banxia asked.
“Because in this apartment, fear materializes,” Song Qingluo said. “What he fears, you’ll see too.”
Lin Banxia’s eyes brightened. “So, if he fears money…”
Song Qingluo: “…” This guy might have a knack for making money, just like the business-minded Ji Leshui.
Seeing Song Qingluo’s speechless expression, Lin Banxia chuckled and added, “Just kidding. Who’d be afraid of money?” He pondered, “So, according to what you said earlier, once you move in, you can’t leave, and even outside, you may encounter terrifying apparitions?”
“Not exactly,” Song Qingluo replied. “Only if you consider leaving will you start to see them.”
Lin Banxia’s smile froze.
“What’s wrong?” Song Qingluo asked.
“Uh…”
“Yes?”
“I just remembered that last night, on my way home, I think I saw something.”
Song Qingluo looked at him in surprise. “You’re thinking of moving out?”
“No, no,” Lin Banxia said innocently, “not at all. But before this place started scaring us both, Ji Leshui saw something similar in that spot.”
“What did he see?” Song Qingluo asked.
Lin Banxia repeated the scene Ji Leshui had described, feeling a growing sense of unease and noticing the goosebumps on his own arms.
“What about you? What did you see this morning?” Song Qingluo asked.
Lin Banxia vividly recounted what he’d seen that morning.
After listening, Song Qingluo’s expression turned complex. He glanced at the genuine goosebumps on Lin Banxia’s arms and asked, “You… didn’t find today’s encounter frightening?”
Lin Banxia shook his head honestly.
Alright then, Song Qingluo thought. His reactions seem to rely on sheer luck. When the moment’s right, he’ll catch on.
Author’s Note:
Lin Banxia mumbled to himself: “I’m scared of the renminbi, scared of the renminbi, scared of the renminbi.”
The next day, he checked his wallet, and the money was gone.
Lin Banxia broke down: “Aaaah! My fear has materialized! Song Qingluo, help meeee!”
House number: Hmph, so you think you can take advantage of me just because I haven’t read enough books?
Staring at the pitiful number of clicks, he fell into deep thought. Why is this happening? Could it be that other titles are more enticing…?
